The Executioner 2: Love, Lies, and Revenge (The Executioner Series)

by Melissa Silvey

  She lay back on the mat and closed her eyes, and thought about Vince and Jordan. Even Sam Clark made a cameo in her thoughts. She laughed at the memory of him urging her to smile at him. She closed her eyes, and soon she was asleep.

  “SIB is still working on the identity of the kidnappers,” Jordan groaned when Vince called him several hours later. “She’s made it up to Indonesia but still no hits.”

  “I showed the pictures around to several people and businesses. Taking into account the language barrier, I got a lot of shakes of the head.” Vince was tired. It had been dark for two hours, and he wanted to return to his hut and go to sleep. He rubbed his eyes and remembered that Ari was out there somewhere; she could be anywhere. She could be in some brothel in Viet Nam, or in an apartment of some oil sheik in the Middle East. Or she could be dead.

  “I got a bit luckier with Damien Tremblay. He is on a diplomatic mission in Hong Kong. He was in meetings all day.” Jordan stated mechanically.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I had video feed of him on one of the monitors the entire time.” Jordan affirmed.

  “Where is he now?” Vince wondered.

  “He checked into his hotel three hours ago,” Jordan stated.

  “Then I guess I’m flying to Hong Kong,” Vince groaned.

  “That sounds like a plan,” Jordan agreed. He shrugged as he couldn’t think of anything else to say or do.

  Arianna heard the door to the hut, and opened her eyes expecting to see the older woman again. She was surprised, though, to see the blonde man from her graduation standing in the doorway. She stared at him for several minutes, speechless. He was so handsome in a pair of lightweight white trousers and a bright green polo that brought out the color in his eyes.

  He crossed his legs and leaned against the doorframe. She took in his white skin that seemed to glow with the moonlight behind him, and his fair hair that gleamed silver. He was so handsome, beautiful even, in a way that was otherworldly. She had to admit she hadn’t encountered any monsters quite as stunning as him.

  “Hello, Arianna,” he said sweetly. His tone was as clear as a bell, his voice like music. “I’m sorry to keep you in these quarters, but I know how dangerous you are. I can’t let you stay in the main house if I’m afraid you’ll hurt someone to facilitate your escape.”

  “That’s not fair, since I don’t know anything about you,” she sighed. She had the feeling that he looked familiar, like she’d seen him somewhere before. But that was impossible, since she knew if she’d seen someone who looked like him she’d definitely remember.

  “I don’t want to tell you anything right now, but we’ll be spending a lot of time together. I think we’ll get to know each other” he said, and idly played with a piece of the grass that formed her prison.

  “Can you tell me why I’m here?”

  “I can’t really tell you that either, yet,” he sighed.

  “Then why did you even come here,” she wondered.

  “I wanted to see you, to make sure you were really here and Kosum was feeding you.” How could such a face, such a voice, belong to someone so cold inside?

  “She fed me once yesterday,” Ari affirmed and complained at the same time.

  “She checked on you again and you were asleep. I’ll send her in again with food before I leave,” he assured her.

  “You’re leaving?” She asked softly.

  “I have to be in Hong Kong in three hours or your boyfriend will wonder where I am,” he shrugged.

  “Vince or Jordan,” she couldn’t help but ask.

  “The one who knows everything,” he admitted. His voice betrayed him a little. He snarled only slightly when he said it.

  “Jordan,” she nodded.

  “What must it be like to live with someone who is more of a machine than a man?” It wasn’t a rhetorical question. He really seemed interested.

  “He’s much more caring and loving than you are right now,” Ari said as she shook her chains. “He’s very sensitive, warm really, when you get to know him.” The man scoffed. He clearly didn’t believe her. “It’s true. He is the caretaker and the comforter in the family.”

  “Are you three a family?” He stressed the word. “It seems more of a twisted sexual relationship from the outside.”

  His accent, she’d heard it before. He didn’t sound quite American. “We do have a sexual relationship, the three of us. It may seem twisted to others, but it suits us well.”

  “Do you like sex that much now, Arianna? You were such a good little virgin the first time I encountered you. How did Vince Argento pervert you to his way of life?”

  He’d known her since… Since before she met Vince. His problem was obviously with Jordan. But he didn’t like Vince much either.

  “Would you tell me your name,” she wondered. “Please?”

  “No,” he said as he glanced at his watch. “But I’ll be back to see you at sunset this evening. And maybe I’ll bring you a gift.”

  “Thank you,” she said sweetly.

  “I’ll see you later,” he said with a beautiful smile, and then he was gone.

  A few minutes after he left the older lady came in with another bottle of water and some kind of oatmeal looking stuff, probably made of rice, with an egg in the middle and a bit of ginger. It tasted really good. “Thank you, Kosum,” Arianna said with a grin.

  The older woman nodded, and smiled. She said several words and ended the sentence with “Arianna.” She thought maybe she was saying “you’re welcome.”

  Vince sat in the lobby of Damien Tremblay’s hotel at 7:30 am. He slept a few hours on the plane, checked into a hotel where he slept another three hours. He dressed, ate a croissant as he walked out of the hotel, and made his way to the other hotel to see him get off the elevator at eight and make his way toward the continental breakfast. If that bastard had Ari he wasn’t supervising the operation. He’d paid someone to watch her, which meant Ari was in twice the danger.

  Or maybe Vince was wrong and he had nothing to do with it. But he didn’t doubt his gut, and his gut said Damien Tremblay was the man. He finished his breakfast at 8:20 and exited the hotel. He made his way to a black chauffeured limo, and climbed in the back.

  He didn’t need to hop in a cab and follow Damien. That’s what he had Jordan for. He walked a block or so and ordered a coffee at an American chain shop as he waited for the text. Jordan finally sent the address where Damien’s phone stopped. He stood outside the tall office building for about two hours. But he eventually got bored and walked to a restaurant several blocks down and had a light lunch. Damien climbed into the limo with several other men an hour later. They went to a restaurant for lunch. Then he returned to the office building again, and stayed there until he left with a few men for dinner. After dinner he returned to the hotel.

  He had to be the most boring man on the planet. After he arrived at the hotel at seven pm he stayed there the rest of the night. At ten Vince headed back to his own hotel. He’d sat in the lobby for an hour, then stood outside the hotel for another hour, but Tremblay didn’t show.

  At 7:30 Damien Tremblay walked through the lobby of the hotel, right past Vince Argento. He knew the man was there, and he didn’t even glance his way. He’d observed his mother’s Executioners, particularly Arianna, for several years. They didn’t know, of course. They never met him. But he knew of them. He even knew where Arianna lived, and sat in the parking lot of her apartment building when he expected her to be home. It wasn’t hard to track her movements when she used his mother’s private plane.

  He ordered several wigs complete with facial hair, and colored contacts from the same places the Executioners did. He had a fascination for the way they easily changed their appearance whenever it suited them. He learned to do it too. So when he strolled past Vince in a brown wig with a brown moustache and brown contacts Vince didn’t even look twice at him.

  Damien, much like Arianna herself, was recognizable for his coloring. Take that
away, and they blended in to any crowd. Plus he left his American cell phone in his hotel room, and carried out a burner phone he’d purchased in Hong Kong. He carried a back pack over his shoulder, and smoothly entered a waiting taxi.

  He’d placed several gifts in the pack for Arianna including her favorite chocolate, a bottle of wine, and a change of clothes. He wasn’t sure exactly how he would manage getting her in the shower. He hoped she would cooperate enough to finally take her to the main house.

  He tried not to let his thoughts of Jordan Stewart and Vince Argento taint his thoughts of Arianna. But she had chosen to be with both of them; not that he would have been able to be with her anyway.

  He’d know of his mother’s soldiers for years, but his mother had put the women strictly off limits to Damien. And that’s why he wanted them, especially Arianna. There was something about her that couldn’t be defined. She was beautiful, yes; strikingly so with that tan skin and blue eyes. But there was more to Arianna Becker than a pretty face. She had an innocence, a sweetness, about her that made men want her.

  And now his mother was gone, his wife had left him, and he had Arianna in chains on a private island. He felt he deserved Ari for what Jordan had put him and his family through. Now he just had to figure out a way to keep her and get his revenge on Jordan.

  Or maybe keeping her would be his revenge. He thought about that as he boarded the private plane with a fake passport; another thing he had thanks to his mother’s connections.

  Chapter Six

  Arianna had more of the strange fruit, two bowls of noodles, and four bottles of water that day. The older lady had to empty her bucket and bring it back, which was probably the most humiliating thing she’d ever experienced. She apologized profusely even though the woman couldn’t understand her.

  Ari knew there was no hope of escape for her as long as she was chained in the hut. She had to somehow talk her mystery man into moving her. Hadn’t he mentioned a main house?

  She lay on the grass mat thinking when she heard the door. She sat up to see her mystery guy beside Kosum. He handed Kosum the bag as he said something to her in the language Ari couldn’t understand. Kosum carried the bag to Arianna, then left the hut. The sun had set, and the sky outside the door was an interesting soft pink. The color played along the tips of his hair.

  Ari opened the bag to find Swiss chocolates, French wine, and a bikini and cover-up from an Italian designer.

  “International gifts,” Ari said excitedly. She couldn’t wait to open the chocolates, so she tore into them. “I’m not sure I can open the wine,” she sighed as she stared down at the cuffs on her hands.

  “If you promise you won’t hurt me I will open it for you,” he said in his melodic voice.

  “Where would I go if I hit you,” she wondered. “I’m chained to a post.”

  “That’s true,” he said with an angelic smile. He climbed into her mosquito netting and opened the wine. He pulled a plastic cup out of the bag, borrowed from his mother’s private airplane, and poured a glass for her. He smiled as he handed it to her.

  She knew she’d seen the cup before, and she knew where. She stared at it closely, then took a sip. She sighed when the flavorful liquid touched her tongue. “That’s soooo good,” she said with a bright smile. “Thank you.”

  He didn’t read in her eyes that she knew who he was: the Secretary’s son. Now she knew why he was so angry with Jordan; angry enough to kidnap Arianna. But to what end? Did he want to kill Jordan, or just hurt him by keeping her?

  He wore a pair of light khaki pants and a blue polo. The blue shirt made his eyes appear blue, where the green shirt the evening before made them green. She tried not to gaze too closely into them.

  He sat with one leg curled under the other, and leaned slightly toward her. He smelled exotic, like island spices. So this was Damien Tremblay. He looked younger than he was, she guessed. He had to be at least thirty, maybe a little older. But he didn’t look it. He was married, as far as she remembered, with two small children. She was supposed to be their nanny. She knew why he seemed so familiar now. He looked like his mother.

  “What should I call you?” She wondered as she glanced at him. Her eyes moved over his face, down his body, to his ring finger. It was empty. She was sure he was married. Blonde hairs lightly covered his forearms. His biceps were big, but his shoulders were bigger. And his face… She had to admit to herself she was entranced by it; handsome and beautiful, soft and manly, striking and unique.

  “I shouldn’t tell you,” he whispered.

  She took another sip of wine. “Why not? If you don’t tell me your name, it makes me wonder what you have in store for me.” She tried not to sound nervous. She finished off the wine and tipped the empty glass toward him. He refilled it graciously.

  “I’m Damien,” he finally said. “Tremblay.”

  “I was your nanny,” she chuckled.

  “Supposedly,” he said with a shrug.

  “So I know what you have against Jordan.” She tried to sound sympathetic. She wanted to engage him, if for no other reason than to get out of this hut with no running water and a bucket for a toilet. “But what are you going to do with me?”

  “I thought about keeping you,” he said honestly. He refilled her glass again, and she continued to drink. Whatever made him happy, she would do it. She took another bite of chocolate, and he grinned.

  Jordan snoozed at his desk. He hadn’t been home since Ari was taken, and that was two days ago. So when the knock came on his door he was shocked awake. He really, really hoped it wasn’t Selena Davies, he thought as he walked toward the door. He half expected to see Mark Dutton standing on the other side, although he knew that Vince had already communicated with him.

  But he was stunned to find Sam Clark there. “I just heard what happened to Ari,” he said nervously. “How can I help?” This was the last person Jordan wanted to see again, ever. Just looking at him reminded Jordan of Ari’s smile as she stared up at the man. And now he wanted to help when Jordan didn’t have any idea what to do himself.

  “We’ve come to a standstill,” Jordan stated as he returned to his desk. “Vince is in Hong Kong, but that lead isn’t panning out.”

  “Hong Kong?” Sam asked incredulously. “Weren’t Ari and Vince in Singapore?”

  “Yes,” Jordan nodded. “Vince is following a lead.”

  “What lead?” Sam wondered. Jordan shook his head, and returned to his computer monitors. “You have to let me do something to help. I can’t just do nothing while Arianna is out there somewhere.”

  Jordan sized up the other man. He was good looking, smart, and very well off. He wore expensive clothes, drove an expensive car. Sam was all the things Jordan strived to be. But what he didn’t have was a right to think he meant anything to Arianna, or Arianna meant anything to him. They had shared one night, one, and that was only because Jordan allowed it to happen. And then he remembered Vince’s warning for the billionth time. Vince warned him that people had emotions, and Jordan shouldn’t play with them. But he did it anyway.

  “What do you know about Damien Tremblay?” He couldn’t think of a reason not to trust Sam.

  “He’s a nice guy,” Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve seen him out a few times, socially.” Sam looked up at the ceiling. “His wife left him, just after his mom and dad were put in jail.” Sam turned his bright blue eyes toward Jordan. “You think he kidnapped Arianna? You think he did it because of what you did?”

  “I don’t know,” Jordan groaned as he took his seat again. “He’s been in Hong Kong the entire time. If he’s the one who took Arianna he’s not watching her.”

  “The men who kidnapped Arianna have Malaysian IDs,” SIB interrupted. “Here are their names and addresses.”

  “Who was that?” Sam asked. But Jordan continued to stare at the screens.

  “I see you have a guest. Welcome Jordan’s friend. May I ask your name?” A pleasant voice asked politely.

  “Sam
Clark,” he answered as he looked around.

  “There are too many Sam Clarks in the metro area. Please provide more information so that I may identify you,” the voice continued.

  Sam couldn’t deny that he felt a bit weird. “I’m a lawyer.”

  “Samuel Martin Clark: born July 4, 1977, Fargo, North Dakota; graduated as Valedictorian from Central High School in 1995. Graduated summa cum laude with a Bachelor of Science in Political Science from University of North Dakota. Graduated summa cum laude with a Juris Doctor from Notre Dame…”

  “I like her,” Sam said with his superstar grin.

  “Enough SIB, call Vince,” Jordan said, and then picked up his phone. “I know who took Arianna,” he said into the phone. Sam lingered, waiting for Jordan to tell him what to do. Finally after he and Vince had a short but constructive conversation he turned toward Sam. “Find out every piece of gossip you can about Damien Tremblay.”

  “I can do that,” Sam said with a nod.

  Vince wished he had access to SIB, but since he didn’t the internet would have to do. He pulled up a search engine and searched for flights from Hong Kong to Malaysia. There wasn’t another flight until six am, so he set his alarm for 3:30 and went back to sleep. He would have a long day ahead of him.

  She finished off the entire bottle of wine and all of the chocolate. She felt just tipsy enough to smile up at him and say, “This would be so much nicer if I’d showered sometime in the last two days.”

  Blood flooded his pale cheeks; he sincerely looked embarrassed. And then, for whatever reason, he pulled a set of keys out of his pocket. “Promise you won’t run?” She nodded. He unlocked her handcuffs, and she stretched her arms as wide as she could.

  “That’s much better,” she said happily. She rubbed at her wrists idly and saw only faint red marks developing there.