Billion Dollar Hearts (Inconguity Series Book 3)
Page 11
Chapter 15
Chloe
“Chloe.”
A low insistent whisper and a hesitant shake to my shoulder rouses me to full consciousness. What, happened. I feel groggy and very much disoriented just like the last time when those assholes drugged me and tried to kidnap. . .
It all comes rushing back and I shoot up right, but I still see darkness.
“Chloe, oh thank God. Are you okay?” I know that voice.
“Sam?” I say to the darkness.
“Yes. Shit, this is bad. They gave you a good knock on the head.” She informs me.
“Why can’t I see you?” I question. And why can’t I move any other part of me? I know I’m seated or laying on something bumpy and very much uncomfortable for my plush behind. My muscles feel cramped and I can’t feel my legs.
“Oh, they blindfolded us and as far as I can sense, we are probably somewhere dark.” She informs with a shaky voice. “And both our feet and hands are tied together, that’s why we are in an awkward position.”
“Damn Chloe, are these the same people that tried to kidnap you?” She questions with reasonable panic in her voice but how do I pacify that? How do I explain to her that the people we thought were on our side were never there to begin with?
“It would seem these are different people but probably under the same pay roll.” I answer, resignation laced in each syllable that leaves my mouth.
“What? Shit. Fuck.” Sam cusses, and if only her mother would hear her now.
“What happened? I know for a fact that they don’t want you.” I question with curiosity, as I try to find the direction of her voice. But that doesn’t help matters because we both can’t see each other but at least we are together.
“I don’t even know!” She answers with frustration. “One moment, I was exiting the taxi right in front of the restaurant and I was walking towards the door and the next thing I know, two huge men block my path and they force me to go along with them. Forcefully, might I add!”
So, just like I suspected and as Gideon explained about the gala night—this was all premeditated. But how could they have known where I was or where Sam was going? It’s obvious that they were watching us or maybe listening in on all my conversations. But wait, if they were listening in to my phone calls, then they know of my conversation with Gideon earlier about the police report concerning my parent’s case.
“Wait, did you recognize any of the men?” I ask her.
“I don’t particularly hang out with dimwits, Chloe so no.” She rushes out and I can tell her anxiety is coming in again.
“I know Sammy. Everything is going to be just fine, you wait and see.” I try to pacify her. I just hope that Tom picks up on the clues that I left for him in the restaurant.
“Anything else you noticed?” I question her.
“Well, not really. I mean, one of the men was fat, stout with a beer belly and had this calculative gleam in his eye. . .” I can literally visualize her shudder in the dark. “Yes, he pulled out an FBI badge and told me that he wanted to ask me questions about you so naturally I said I know nothing, that’s when he got handsy.”
“Special Agent Alec McGuire.” I spit out his name with all the venom I can muster within me.
“How do you know?” She questions.
“He took your phone didn’t he?” I question and she hums her agreement. “With that phone, he used it to call me and tell me that if I didn’t leave the restaurant and come to him, he was going to hurt you.” I inform her, my voice as quiet as possible. I hope to hell and back that we are alone in wherever we are.
“Shit, I wouldn’t put it past him. There was pure evil in his eyes Chloe. This is bad.”
And boy don’t I know that? How are we going to get out of this? We don’t even have any idea of where we are or what will happen in the next few minutes, forget about hours and days. It suddenly feels like we are breathing on borrowed time, but fuck that. Fear has no place here.
“What are we going to do?” Sam asks me after a long pause where both of us were stuck in our own thoughts of doom.
“We fight Sammy. No matter what they throw at us, we go kicking and screaming bloody murder.” I say, making sure to harden my voice as much as possible. This plot, this incessant need for revenge has opened flood gates of hell and I don’t know if we will make it, but what I do know with every fiber of my being is that I will avenge my parents. Even if I die trying.
There is rough movement and then silence, both Sam and I both gasp out loud and hold our breaths in silent anticipation. At this point, anything can happen and I’m not sure if the dread I feel is the sign that the beginning to the end is here or not.
We listen intently to our surroundings, both of us so damn silent, I swear we are able to hear a drop of a pin miles away. And because of that silence, we can hear the slamming of doors—car doors by the sounds of it. We are silent until the juggling of a set of keys in a lock breaks the silence.
“Someone is coming.” Sam whispers harshly and I desperately wish I could see her but I can’t.
The key in the lock turns and then a door seems to open somewhere really close to where I’m seated and then a gust of air rushes into the enclosed space where Sam and I have been cooped up for however long.
“Ahh, I see you are both still alive, Glad you didn’t suffocate through our short drive out of town.”
My body tenses and I feel my anger coiling within my body. How can anyone do what he does? How can anyone pledge and take a vow to protect and serve for a country, swearing allegiance to keep safe the citizens only to turn back around with malicious intent, and not forgetting the greed, and then do what he does?
“What do you want with us, McGuire?” I demand, looking in the direction that I hope he is in.
“Oh, it’s not me who wants you, but trust me, I’ll get you when he is done.” He says with an evil laugh in his voice.
“Who wants us?” Sam chooses that moment to angrily question the dirty ‘federal agent’
“You’ll soon find out, silly girl. You were safe with that asshole Jones but just like every other stupid female dog out here, you chose to get that ‘I’m an independent woman’ song to your head.” He says maliciously, “but whatever, it worked out didn’t it.”
I feel pressure on my right arm as if someone is dragging me, moving me to God knows where.
“Let go of me, you asshole!” Sam screeches and I think it’s because someone else is moving her.
“Where are you taking us?” I question him, loudly.
“We are just taking a little trip.” He says and I can literally sense the smirk in his voice.
“Hurry up, we need to get this bird in the air now and get there in under two hours at most.” I hear his terse instruction, talking to someone else as my feet hit the hard tarmac.
“A bird in the air? Are we flying somewhere?” Sam questions, her voice really close to me. I think she must be walking beside me.
“Very perceptive of you, doctor! Your mother would be proud.”
“Where are we going?” I demand once more and then suddenly the blindfold covering my eyes in ripped off my eyes and the first thing I do is squint because I’m looking directly up at the glaring sun.
Someone forcefully grabs my chin and forces me to open my eyes again to look who it is. My tummy feels like it will revolt in my stomach as my gaze connects with that of the slimy federal agent.
“We are going to Chicago!” He announces and just like that, my heart rate spikes and I feel color draining from my face and my body tenses. He starts to laugh as he turns away, walking towards the small plane in front of us.
I feel an unexpected prick on my neck but before I can lift my hand to check what stung me, my vision goes blind once more.
Chapter 16
Gideon
My stomach drops and I feel the slicing coldness of horror spreading throughout my veins as my eyes connect with those of the man who bears the news that I don’t th
ink I was prepared to hear.
I mean, I knew something sinister was brewing. All along I knew that Giovanni was going to strike and I knew he was coming after Chloe and I but what I wasn’t betting on was how fast he would work. Not like this though, not her. Not when I just got her safe from that horrid gala.
“What did you just say?” I grit out, unable to recognize my own voice. It’s some kind of inhumane, animalistic growl that moves through me, breaking the stillness that had fallen around us in Alexander’s office.
“Who has been taken?” Alexander interjects but I can’t turn to look at him. I don’t want to face him yet, knowing that the expression on my face is probably murderous and I will probably lose it because I’m obviously losing a handle over my emotions.
“How the fuck did that happen?” I demand immediately. I feel my hands balling into fists. I could grab Peter’s collar and crush his neck right now due to the violence churning within me, but that wouldn’t do anyone any good. So, I hold myself tightly back. Just breath.
“Tom just called and he is asking that you come over immediately.” Peter informs, his facial expression tight and I can tell he is prepared for anything that I might throw at him and God knows I want to wring each of their necks and Tom. . .
“Where?”
“A little restaurant at Bryant Park.” He states.
“What was she doing there?” I demand.
“Gideon, who was taken?” Alexander questions, his voice suddenly closer than it was. I turn around to face him and see that sometime during my hard breathing, staring Peter down, he moved around his desk and came to stand next to me.
“Alexander, I. . .” where do I begin with this? How do I tell him that all his supposed protection is actually a farce? My chest squeezes with an uncomfortable agony, not for Alexander but for the woman who I didn’t do all I can to protect, and now look at what has happened. I can barely speak.
“It’s your grand-daughter.”
The words tumble out of my mouth and honestly at this point in time, I have no patience to wait and console him or explain what I meant to him to I turn to leave.
“What do you mean by that? I don’t have a grandchild.” His voice is filled with disbelief and he is obviously shocked but as I keep staring at him, there is something in his eyes that’s beyond shock. . . I can’t place it though. It’s gone before I can even try and identify it.
“Your daughter, Sandra, had a daughter with her husband, James.” I inform slowly, watching him as various emotions flicker over in his eyes. “You met her before.” I remind him as I study him closely. Something about the way he carries himself now as if he already knew this. . .
“That beautiful, young woman who graced your arm at your birthday dinner?” He questions shocked recognition sparks his eyes.
“You knew, didn’t you?” I call him out on his bullshit. I honestly don’t know what I am asking but I go with it anyway. Sometimes my mouth goes before my brain and in this instance, as I watch him squirm and then proceed to sink into the office chair right beside the one I previously occupied, I don’t mind it. As a matter of fact, I’m grateful for it.
“I. . .” He stammers, looking around his office as if his brain is spinning.
“You knew about her, didn’t you?” I demand again, this time I want answers. I can’t deal with all these lies nor can I move forward with them so heavy on my back. It’s because of those lies that the one woman who I promised my devotion, my protection—has now been kidnapped after a failed attempt that I thought would ward away any other attempt. Clearly, I was wrong. Evidently, I wasn’t aware of just who I’m dealing with.
“I didn’t know.” His voice comes through as a pained whisper.
“What do you mean by that?” I demand, looking down at him, my fists clenching. The need to let loose and do irreparable damage savagely demanding to be let loose.
“Everything that happened with Sandra was a huge mistake. A torrid affair with a bellhop.”
“A bellhop that you didn’t want your daughter with yet you knew they were in love?”
He looks up sharply at me, piercing me his gaze. “Did she tell you that? What does she know?”
His vehement and violent question throws me off guard but I school my features into impassivity. What’s going on here? Is Chloe supposed to know something concerning Alexander or his daughter. I think whatever information that might be can be a threat to Alexander but what is it?
I wonder if Chloe actually knows but I immediately dismiss the idea. She was completely gutted that night at my parents’ house. There is no way she knows something.
“She isn’t aware that you are her blood.” The lie falls from my lips easily and I guess that was the right thing to say as I watch Alexander let out a sigh of relief but tries to hide it by turning away to fix himself a drink.
“Scotch?” He questions me but I decline the offer, watching as he pours—and pours—the amber liquid into his tumbler and then proceeding to chug half the contents down.
“I sent Private Investigator after Private Investigator to find Sandra after she ran from home but they all came back with nothing. It was almost as if she was wiped across the face of the earth.”
Ran off? From what I understand, the then Sandra and James ran away from Alexander and his wrath. I remember my father telling me that Alexander was a man not to bet all your money on.
“Surely with all your money you tried looking for her.” I prompt again as he polishes off the contents in his glass.
“I have to admit, there were a few hits that came across my desk a couple of years after she ran away.”
“And did you ever suspect why she ran off?” I question, my head tilting to the left as I start studying his office, seeing it with new eyes. There are portraits of turbulent seas, troubled by violent winds and storms.
“Of course, it was that sonofabitch James that coerced to run off, leaving behind a much more respected life. He was no good and good riddance that he was killed.” Alexander spits the words out with venom and hatred that has me raising an eyebrow. I wonder if Chloe’s father was more than just a bellhop that fell in love with his daughter.
I look at Peter whose gaze is transfixed onto something on Alexander’s desk. I follow his line of sight and right there, almost hidden by the piles and pies of files and loose papers scattered across the desk, is a wooden carving.
A wooden carving of a snake. Not just any snake, but a diamondback rattlesnake.
Well, I will be damned. This is a curveball I didn’t see coming. The carving is perfectly hidden at the desk which is why I missed it at first but Peter clearly doesn’t have any qualms at discovering shit that makes my blood boil.
“When did you find out about Sandra and James’ tragic murder?”
“Tragic? That was fate and destiny! Too bad Sandra was mixed I all of that.” He says but I know—I can see it in his eyes—he isn’t at all sad about his daughter. There is a surprising look of indifference in his eyes that makes me narrow my eyes.
“I have to go now, thank yiu for your time Alexander.” I say as I turn away from his desk and look at his stout, fat figure standing by the window.
“Yes, yes. I have a posh dinner thing I have to attend out of state. Have to get going.” He responds but his voice is distracted and I wonder what’s brewing in his mind.
“Well, you enjoy that.” I call out as Peter and I turn to leave. But I have a feeling we are going to meet each other soon.
Why would my grandfather do this? Why would he have me finding the granddaughter of Alexander Hamilton? Yet when I told him about her, he wasn’t shocked nor was he overjoyed. I wonder if all his drunken rants about losing his wife and daughter were all a fabrication. Because if that were true, wouldn’t one be hopeful and joyous at the thought of having family after all.
Yeah, this is war and the casualties are going to be sky-high. I just need to make sure Chloe makes it out of this alive.
Chapter 17
/> Chloe
My head rolls on my shoulders and I feel like I’m spinning. I feel dizzy and nauseous as I come to. I feel an all too familiar pounding in my head that makes me groan. God, if I never have another pounding headache caused by someone else in my entire life, I would die a happy and satisfied woman.
“Oh, look who is awake.”
A deep, malicious voice speaks from somewhere, making me instinctively back away. I know that voice. Oh hell no. But before I can move any of my limbs, the pressure of the ropes binding me to a metal chair that I’m seated on hold me back. That can’t be good.
I don’t know how it happened but somehow, my hair is no longer in its perfectly groomed high ponytail I made earlier. Earlier? I don’t even know what the time is, let alone where exactly I am. Someone moves my hair away from eyes and I’m suddenly eye to eye with a blue-eyed goddess. She straightens but doesn’t move away, watching me as I assess her.
Blue, frosty eyes. Long blonde hair that falls in waves down her back. Her body is swathed in black tight pants that seem to have been poured over her tight curves. A black, long sleeve top covers her impressive rack. As I peer up at her, I wonder how tall she is, obviously taller than me. But then, that may be due to her black leather, six-inch stiletto boots. She has a really deep red lipstick coating her lips—lips that are curled in an ugly, nasty snarl.
She looks like some kind of sleek and conniving bitch. All dressed in black looking down at me. She doesn’t even have to try to make me envious of her, I already am.
Her eyes are frosty and for some reason, I sense deep hatred within her. I’m not wrong because her ‘act’ of kindness to pull my hair away was only to make way for the stinging blow that she suddenly gives me.
I gasp out, my head turned all the way to the side by the force of her powerful blow. I’m so shocked at the sudden assault, I don’t have anything to say but someone else in the room hoots and whoops like he’s enjoying the show.
“Damn, that’s hot.” Caleb says, whistling at the woman who just slapped me. I bet that’s going to bruise.