He still has the slightly sleazy Mediterranean vibe about him. Leathery tanned skin, a thick head of curly hair that he has coifed to absurdity, white Bermuda shorts, and a shirt completely unbuttoned. And a large gold cross on a chain. Religious irony seems to be a recurring theme in my life lately.
Still, if he’s suffering any moral dilemmas, he certainly isn’t showing it. He looks perfectly pleased with himself. One would never have guessed he’d recently lost nine figures from his net worth. Along with two pairs of emerald earrings.
“Constantin,” I say just as amicably. “You’re looking well.”
His expression quickly transitions and all hints of congeniality are gone.
“I’m going to be as straight to the point and efficient as you are…Enrique Marín.”
“So you know my name. What else did you learn about me this week?”
His expression grows dark. “This past week was not about you. I had the matter of a painting to deal with. None of your concern.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I consider myself a bit of an art connoisseur.”
“What happened this past week is not something that I find very amusing. Right now, I have no intention of killing you. Don’t make me change my mind.”
“What is it that you do want from me then?”
“My money back.”
“Naturally.”
“Plus interest.”
“Naturally.”
He laughs, but it doesn’t reach his cold eyes. “This would be the point where I tell you that I’m not a greedy man before quoting some absurd amount. But we both know that would be a lie; I’m quite greedy, as you well know. But I am also a practical man. I realize that taking everything from you would only encourage you to find a way to avoid paying me. Instead…I will take only half.”
“Half,” I repeat in a noncommittal tone.
“Half of everything you have taken from the others. And don’t bullshit me by feigning ignorance. I know exactly who you’ve stolen from, and I can hazard a guess as to how much you’ve taken. Of course, I could always go to the source. Richard Coleman.”
He studies me carefully after dropping that bomb, trying to gauge my face for a reaction. I’ve been prepared for every scenario since I first had a conversation with the woman still standing next to me, so I manage to hide any type of a reaction.
All of his money plus half of everything else. I’m surprised at how little the request affects me. Of course, none of this was about the money in the first place, at least not for me. My team might not feel so indifferent about the matter. Even if I gave up all of my share of the bounty, at least a little would have to come from their end.
If I play by Constantin’s demands.
“I can give you all of my share. That comes to almost two hundred and fifty million euros. Plus the earrings.”
He clucks his tongue and shakes his head. “No, no, no, Señor Marín. That is not how this works. You have no negotiating power here. I make the demand, you follow it. Comprende?”
“It will take me some time.”
“You have one more week. My people will have an account for you to which you can wire the funds. The earrings you can send by mail. Insured of course.” His cold smile returns.
I nod, thinking about how I’m going to break this to the rest of the team. Which suddenly has me begging the same question that popped into my head when I first realized someone was after me.
“How did you find out about me?” I ask, assuming I won’t get an answer.
This time when Constantin smiles, it does reach his eyes. “That is the amusing bit. That little tart you stole from was a thief herself. If only she had waited a while, the earrings would have been hers. Instead, she seized the opportunity you so generously provided her. Do you honestly think I wouldn’t have jewelry like microchipped with a tracker so long as they were still mine?”
I silently curse myself.
I knew that one day something minor and seemingly harmless would come along to slip me up, and all it took was a pair of earrings. Obviously I scan everything I take. He must have activated it after the fact. Perhaps that damn woman was smart to choose the diamonds instead. At least I can rest easy that it wasn’t a member of my crew who betrayed me.
“Once we traced your location, it was easy enough to follow you to Ibiza. The girl was an interesting development. I don’t recall any of the people working with you having such nice figures underneath those suits of yours. And here she is, still with you a week later.”
This time it’s harder to keep a neutral expression on my face. I know exactly what he’s doing.
My instinct is to rise up, smash my fist into his face and threaten to do far worse if either him or any of his hired professionals so much as lay a finger on her. But that would only make things worse. For her sake, I have to not only keep it cool, but do exactly as he asks.
The good news is, his only concern about her seems to be as leverage to get me to do his bidding. If he knew who Leira was, he might be a bit more intrigued, especially considering this mysterious tie she has to Richard Coleman, even if he is just a name given to her by her father.
“I suggest you don’t let me down, Enrique. For her sake. One week. I’ll give you until midnight next Friday.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Leira
The small plate of food before me in the bar lies mostly uneaten. I’ve managed to nibble on a bit of the bread from the bruschetta, but all it did was remind me how tied up in knots my stomach is.
I’ve passed the time thinking the worst
Use my judgment? How long is too long for Enrique to be gone? What exactly is the acceptable time period for a hostage situation?
Without a watch or even a phone, I have no concept of how much time has passed. Why the hell doesn’t this bar have a clock? Considering the drunk beside me, I can probably figure out why. I’ve already had two drinks myself, despite Enrique’s caution. I don’t even recall what I ordered. But he’s not the one who has to sit here wondering if he’s dead or not, and if so, am I next?
My eyes have been glued to the marina, waiting for that boat to come back. When it does, I nearly spit out the sip of the cocktail. I sit up, waiting for him and those goons to get off, but it’s just him by himself.
His face looks dangerously grim.
The knot in my stomach tightens just a bit more.
By the time he walks through the doors of the restaurant, his expression magically transitions to that playfully devilish look, no doubt meant to put me at ease.
I plant a smile on my face to similarly try and put him at ease.
“So, who was it?” I ask, unable to contain myself any longer.
“Let’s get out of here first,” he says with a tight smile.
After paying, he guides me out. He does a good job of hiding it, but I see him surreptitiously looking around, which has me looking around as well.
What’s going on?
We walk until we reach the path that goes along the beach before he starts talking.
“It was one of the people I stole from. Constantin Papadopoulos. He wants his money back.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s not so terrible then, is it? I mean, I’m sure it’s a lot for you but—”
“He wants his back and half of everything else from all the others. Plus some items stored back on the island.”
“Oh.” I stare ahead, feeling my brow crease. “I guess that would be difficult?”
“To put it mildly. I don’t mind giving up my share, but I’d have to dip into the money that my team has.”
I nod, grasping what that might mean for him. We walk a bit before I finally get to the elephant in the room.
“What will he do if you don’t?”
Enrique is silent for a long moment, and I sense what’s coming.
“They found me because of something I hid in the lagoon. As it turns out, there was a tracker on it. They followed me to Ibiza.” He turn
s to look at me. “Which is how they knew about you.”
I stop and turn to face him. “What does that mean?”
“It means that they are watching both of us and if I don’t do what he asks, he’s made it quite clear what will happen to me…and to you.”
“Me?” I manage to breathe out along with any remaining air in my lungs.
“Let’s sit down,” he says, guiding me to a bench facing the beach.
I try to get my breath back as I stare out at the sunbathers enjoying themselves, seemingly without a care in the world. I envy them. Hell, I’d even return back to the beaches of Ibiza when Enrique himself was still my only threat.
“I want you to go home.”
I snap my head around at Enrique's request. “What?”
“It’s the safest place for you, Leira. If I’m going to do this, I don’t want to have to worry about you. You and I both know your father will keep you protected better than anyone. Certainly more than I can.”
He’s right of course, but my mind still roars with protest at the idea. It isn’t even my father’s wrath and draconian measures he’ll now go to in order to keep me out of danger, it’s leaving Enrique.
“But…” I start, unable to finish.
Something deepens in his gaze and he reaches out one hand to brush my hair away from my face. “I know, Leira. But when this is all over, I’m coming for you.”
A soft smile touches my lips as I imagine that. The handsome prince coming to claim the princess now that he’s slain the dragon.
“Call him. I’m sure he’ll be on an immediate flight out to come and get you. I need to get started on this in the meantime, first of which is getting back to Ibiza to get my boat,” he says with a cynical laugh, as though realizing he’s left it anchored near some abandoned beach this whole week.
I think about how long it took to get here from Ibiza. That’s almost a day wasted, then getting the boat, going to the island to get whatever he needs from there, then somehow convincing his friends to give up their money. He certainly doesn’t need me fretting and pining over him while he concentrates.
I suck it up and find my strength, focusing on how to make this as easy as possible for him.
“I guess we have to get another burner phone. We definitely can’t use yours,” I say with a cynical smirk. “I’ll call him and, like you said, he’ll send someone for me or just direct me what to do. I’ll no doubt have to go through the embassy or police, considering I have no passport or anything by way of identification with me.”
“I will come back for you, Leira,” he insists.
I smile and reach out a hand to cup his cheek. “I know. Now, let’s get going, I want to pull this band-aid off as soon as possible.”
He smiles and shifts his face to kiss the palm of my hand. Then, he takes it and rises up from the bench, bringing me with him.
We get another throwaway phone and I stare at it, not at all enjoying the prospect of making this call.
“A week ago, I basically told him to fuck off. Now, I’m calling to come crawling back home.”
“Leira,” Enrique says, taking my face in both his hands. His eyes pierce me with such emotion, I forget all about my dread over making this call. “I need you safe. I—I won’t be able to function if I know something has happened to you. You have no idea…” His breath catches and he seems to snap out of whatever feelings threatened to overtake him. “You didn’t tell him to fuck off. You exerted your independence, rightfully so. And now you’re not crawling back home, you’re turning to the best resource of safety you have available to you. You know your father can protect you in ways that even I can’t. Go to him…so you can return to me.”
I nod in his hands, feeling suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. “Okay, Enrique.”
He leans in to quickly kiss me on the forehead, then let's go so I can make the call.
I punch in the number and close my eyes. It’s answered after the second ring.
“Hi, Dad.”
There’s a pause before he speaks, which means he’s pissed.
I decide to make the most of the brief silence. “Before you say anything, I should tell you that I don’t have much time. I’m in trouble here in Barcelona, and I need to come home. I don’t have my passport or anything really, so I’ll probably need to go to the police and then the embassy.”
“What kind of trouble?” he asks in alarm.
“It’s…it has to do with Richard Coleman.” I give Enrique an apologetic wince. He just shakes his head as though I don’t have to worry about it.
“What?” Dad asks, and I can just imagine him shooting out of his seat. “What is his involvement? Has he taken you? Are you calling from—”
“No, Dad, it’s one of the people he works with. I can’t say much, especially over the phone, but any moment now—”
“I’ll have you on a plane by the end of the day. What is the closest police station to you right now?”
“Um, let me ask someone,” I say, pulling the phone away to ask Enrique. When he tells me, I repeat the location to my father.
“Go there and wait. I will have someone come and get you. He will take care of everything as far as getting you a new passport and on a plane home. Then we will be discussing this.”
I don’t miss the warning tone in his voice. Once again, the disobedient daughter has gotten herself into trouble. Any resentment I feel is ebbed by the fact that now is not the time for wallowing in my daddy issues.
“Thanks, Dad,” I say before hanging up.
I let go of a breath and smile for Enrique’s sake. “Not a problem. I’m supposed to wait at the police station, and someone will come for me.”
“Let’s go,” he says, taking my hand to take me there.
The police station has a small area in front with a bench to sit on so I take a seat rather than try to file a false report for my “stolen” belongings. Best to wait until the arrival of whoever it is my father is sending.
“It’s fine now, Enrique. Go and take care of whatever you need to.”
“I’m not leaving until he comes,” he says with a look on his face that doesn’t invite any protest.
Although I know he has a lot to take care of, a part of me is relieved he’s staying. I take his hand and squeeze appreciatively.
“Leira Montoya?”
I turn at the sound of my name and find a policeman approaching.
“Yes?” I reply.
“I was sent here to escort you to a secure location? For a new passport and a plane ticket?”
“Um, yes,” I say, pleased that an actual policeman was sent.
“Who sent you?” Enrique asks with suspicion.
“Señor Montoya and a Walter Hanson?”
Enrique turns to me with a raised eyebrow for confirmation.
“That’s my father’s lawyer,” I say, feeling even more relieved. I hadn’t even thought to question the officer.
Enrique relaxes and nods.
“One moment,” I say to the police officer. I turn to Enrique and smile. “Do what you have to do, and don’t worry about me. I’ll spend the week singing your praises to my dad so when you finally do come to rescue me, he’ll treat you like the royalty you are, as far as I’m concerned.”
A grin spreads his face and he pulls me in for a kiss. We linger over it, enjoying this last moment. That swell in my heart that’s been developing over the past week finally has it beating at a rhythm that only spells one thing.
I pull away, and quickly lean in to whisper in his ear. “Te amo.”
Without waiting for a response, I stand up and walk past the police officer to head out.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Enrique
I love you.
I watch Leira’s retreating figure as she exits the door, the policeman quick on her steps.
Even though they were whispered, her words still echo in my ears as loud as a roar.
Te amo.
I knew something had been buildi
ng over the week at my grandfather’s vineyard, but it only now hits me how deep it ran.
And it wasn’t just her.
Being raised by parents who put wealth and image over comfort and affection, my emotional compass has always been slightly off-kilter. The last remnants I have of sincere love are the snippets I remember from my mother, my real mother.
Leira has created a crack in the damn blocking those feelings, letting enough seep out to be receptive to those two words.
Te amo.
Suddenly, finishing this mission for Constantin is more urgent than ever. Suddenly finishing everything is more urgent than ever, ending with my father.
Something in my mind snaps into place at that thought. The beginnings of an idea form in there.
“Perfecto,” I mutter to myself as I stare at the wall ahead.
The irony of being in a police station as I formulate yet another criminal scheme hits me, and I smile as I stand up to walk outside. My first stop, after a brief detour to get the key, is to the Estació Nord Bus Station. The lockers there have a fifteen-day maximum storing limit, which works well enough with my visits back to Barcelona. For my purposes, it’s much safer than a safety deposit box or storage unit, both of which leave a paper trail.
The key is kept in a storm drain leading from my apartment building, secured deep inside by a long wire that I use a knitting needle of all things to dig out. All very cloak and dagger, in a crude sort of way, which is the beauty of it.
The only item inside the locker is a completely untraceable phone, only to be used in case of getting in touch with my crew for the next job. I’m sure this one will be a surprise for them.
For this one, we’ll be taking it all.
The best part is, Constantin will still be getting what he has coming…in more ways than one.
Sometimes I impress myself.
While I send the message with the code word, a meeting location, time and date for two days from now, I think about what life will be like once all of this is over. I definitely want to take Leira back to my grandfather’s vineyard in September for the harvest festivals. That’s when the area truly comes alive from its sleepy summer. By then, I should have hopefully won her father over.
Spanish Pirate: A BWWM International Legacies Romance Page 21