Trace quickly explained as he set up the equipment to monitor and record phone conversations, and then Kayne made the call.
“Allo?” A groggy female voice answered.
“Lutcia, put Krysin on,” Kayne demanded.
“Kayne, is that you?” Oksana's mother asked. “I've begged Valentin to let me call you ever since we heard about Tasha. How is she?”
Kayne huffed out an impatient sigh. “She's been kidnapped, along with my wife. Where is Valentin?”
She let out a fearful cry. “Not again! How could this be? I don't…I don't know where Valentin is. He's...You know what he is. I don't know who he's seeing these days.”
“Who's The Wolf?”
She sucked in an audible breath. “Where did you hear that name?” she asked cautiously.
“He sent a message for Krysin. He says Krysin has something that belongs to him.”
“Then I am terribly sorry for your loss, Kayne. Valentin will never give Aleksandr Volkov what he wants.”
“Who the fuck is Aleksandr Volkov?” Kayne shouted. But even as he said the name, a voice whispered in his ear that he'd heard it before.
“Kaynan Aleksandr Volkavich, if you don't already know, you need to ask your mother that question.”
The implication hit him like a truck-load of bricks. Jesus God, he'd all but forgotten that name. Volkavich had been his surname as a young child, before he came to America. Kayne was vaguely aware of Trace's office filling with bodies, all wearing lanyards attached to various federal acronyms and listening intently between urgent whispers and gestures to each other. Kayne knew something was going on, but he could only focus on one fact.
“Are you saying this Aleksandr Volkov is my...my...biological father?” he sputtered. His mother had sworn she never knew who his father was. Just one more goddamn lie. The bitch! The motherfucking bitch!
“Yes,” Lutcia said after a long pause.
“Lutcia, I know Oksana is gone, but Tasha is alive. My wife is with her. They tried to take Tasha, but Jessica faced a gunman and demanded to go…” His voice broke, and he had to stop. “To protect her daughter. Your granddaughter. I can't lose them, Lutcia. I can't.”
“I can't live with these secrets anymore,” she murmured. “Valentin’s choices have taken everything that matters from me. And now from you. I will help however I can. I owe you that. I owe Oksana that. She loved you so much. So do I.”
“What does Volkov want?” Kayne felt, more than saw, the hovering agents lean in, even those wearing headphones.
“Stolen Russian artifacts, but it's not that simple. To help you I have to go to the beginning. I will try to be as quick as possible. There is little time.”
Lutcia told them an incredible tale of Krysin and Volkov growing up together. Both had been from affluent, political families. They had been the best of friends until the day they met the young orphan girl, Nina Babeshko, Kayne’s biological mother. Both Valentin Krysin and Aleksandr Volkov fell instantly in lust with her. All Nina had ever dreamed about was having a home and family. Security. Realizing both men were in love with her, or so she'd thought, she held out for who could offer her the most.
Aleksandr Volkov won.
While both men had claimed to love Nina, neither had any intention of marrying her. In fact both were already married, a fact they'd failed to tell Nina. Somehow, an infatuation had gotten out of hand, and it had turned into a fierce competition to best each other. It was no longer about Nina. Or friendship. It was about dominance and power.
“Aleksandr managed to convince your mother to sleep with him.”
Kayne snorted. “That shouldn't have been too difficult.”
“She wasn't like that, at least not then. She thought she'd found her happy-ever-after. He stole her innocence in more ways than one. When Nina discovered she was pregnant, she told Aleksandr, hoping he'd marry her. It was then she learned he was already married.
“Aleksandr forced her into one of his whore houses. Valentin looked for her, but Aleksandr moved her from place to place until he sold her to the man who took both of you to America. I didn't find out until after you were in America what Aleksandr had done.”
Kayne cringed inwardly. He'd had a horrible childhood, but it seemed it could have been worse. Thankfully, he'd found Ben and Luann Dobrescu. His real parents. He shook his head wondering where the fuck she was going with this. “What does any of this have to do with now?”
“One night, Aleksandr and Valentin got together under the pretense of making amends. They got drunk, and Aleksandr started bragging about where his family money had come from. Aleksandr's father had been a top adviser for Joseph Stalin. He'd been one of the men responsible for selling off many of the Romanov artifacts to finance Stalin's career. Little by little, his father had stolen artifacts, creating a nice cache for himself. Aleksandr let slip where he had that cache hidden. Not long after, Valentin and his men stole the treasure. Tens of millions of dollars’ worth of history, to punish Aleksandr for his treatment of Nina. And the war between the two truly began. It was all political at first, until Oksana was kidnapped. That was the longest two months of my life.”
Kayne reared back. Holy fuck! “You’re saying my biological father is the sick bastard who kidnapped and raped Oksana?” And Jess and Grace were with him. God, he was sure he was going to be sick.
Suddenly, memories of Oksana’s constant reminders that it didn’t matter who his father was flashed through Kayne’s mind, and it all clicked into place. She hadn’t been reassuring him his parentage didn’t matter; she’d been reminding herself. Kayne looked nothing like his mother, which meant he had to be the spitting image of his father. ‘You reminded her of someone from her past.’ Petra had said. Jesus God!
Kayne felt the room begin to shift, and suddenly Rafe was there shoving him down into a chair.
Lutcia continued on, oblivious. “He is an evil man. He recorded the rapes and sent it to Valentin. He wanted Valentin to know what he'd allowed to happen to his own daughter. Valentin took what was Aleksandr's, and Aleksandr swore he'd take everything that mattered to Valentin in return. He’s the one who ordered Nikolai and Natalia's murders, even though they were his grandchildren too.”
Kayne was almost afraid to ask, but he had to know. “What happened to the baby? I know Oksana had it.”
“After I found out about Nikolai and Natalia, I asked Valentin. He told me he drowned the baby on the day it was born and sent its body back to its father.”
Oh, Jesus God, an innocent child's life had meant nothing to either of these sick motherfuckers.
“Why the fuck didn't Valentin just give him what he wanted?” Or better yet kill the fucker.
“Valentin does not negotiate. He does not show weakness. He does not allow himself to love, so that there is nothing for his enemy to use against him. That child was nothing but a pawn to him, just like Oksana, or your kids, or me.”
Someone held a yellow tablet in front of Kayne. He read the words out loud. “Where is this stuff? What is it?”
“I don't know where it is now. A lot of it you have. Or had.”
A dozen pair of eyes snapped to Kayne. He quickly shook his head. “Me? That's not possible.”
“Oksana knew. We gave you millions and millions of dollars in books, paintings, jewelry and other artifacts like the Faberge eggs and swords. Valentin called it a wedding present, but really it was a way to ensure Aleksandr never got his hands on it.”
Kayne’s head snapped back. “Whoa! Are you trying to tell me it’s all real? That the box of costume jewelry is real?”
“Yes. Do you know where they are? Valentin had men try and retrieve it after Oksana's death, but all of it was gone.”
Of course it had been gone. The moment he was free to go back into the apartment, he started boxing up everything that had been a reminder of Oksana. He'd intended to donate it, but his parents had demanded they take it and put it into storage, because they knew he'd want it later.
> Kayne wearily scrubbed his face. “My daughters have been playing dress up with the jewelry for weeks.”
“Every stone in there is real. If you still have the puzzle box there is a false bottom and stuffed inside are blank bonds worth tens of millions of dollars.”
Kayne picked up a pen, ready to write on the note pad in front of him. “How do I contact Volkov?”
“I don't know. Your mother has been with him off and on for the past few years. Kayne, be prepared, even with you offering to give it all back, it won’t be enough. It’s not about the money anymore, it’s about power, and I don't think it's just Valentin he wants to destroy. I think Aleksandr won’t be happy until he destroys you, too.”
Kayne shoved a hand through his hair. “Why, me?”
“You were born.” She said the words simply, and somehow that made sense. “This all started with you.”
Great. Just fucking great. “Lutcia, I need you on the first plane out of Russia. I need you here in Arizona. I’ll make it happen. Just get to the airport and on the plane.”
“I'll never make it, Kayne. I signed my death warrant the moment I started talking to you. Please, find my granddaughter. Find that brave wife of yours, and don’t ever let her go. No one deserves a woman like that more than you.”
Kayne surged to his feet, sending the chair skidding backwards. “Lutcia, please, get out of there.”
There was a sudden urgency in Lutcia's voice, as if time had run out. “She loved you, Kayne. Oksana called me the day she died. She said she'd finally found her way into the sunlight because of you. She said she loved you,” Lutcia whispered.
Suddenly there was banging and shouting.
Gunfire erupted.
Lutcia screamed.
The line went dead.
Kayne chucked the receiver against the wall as hard as he could, threw back his head, and howled in rage as he sank to his knees.
THIRTY-EIGHT
The kidnappers knew the area well. The driver had pulled into an alley behind a building on Main Street, where they switched vehicles. Then they waited in a four-wheel drive Toyota Land Cruiser for all of the emergency vehicles to scream past on their way to the park, before calmly pulling away. They drove through town on back roads, blazed a trail through a section of forest land, and, before Jess knew it, they'd bypassed any road blocks that might have been put into place and were pulling up in front of a secluded cabin.
Jess hadn't recognized him at first, but now she realized the driver was the tattooed man from the water park. The fact that they'd let her see his face, hadn't blindfolded her while they took her to this remote location, told her more than she needed to know. She wasn't walking out of here if they had anything to do with it. Her and Gracie’s only hope was to buy time and pray that Kayne would find them.
She wondered if she'd ever have the chance to explain why she couldn't let them take Gracie without her. Truth was, she hadn't thought about anything but Gracie's fear and the possibility she was going to die. She couldn't let her face that alone. Even if it meant sacrificing her own life, she would do everything she could to save her daughter.
Jess's last glimpse of freedom was a darkening sky full of rain-laden clouds. The same angry gray Jess knew Kayne's eyes must be right now. God she wanted him here.
The gunman shoved Jess through the front door, and Jess blinked frantically, trying to adjust to the darker interior.
They weren't alone. Three other men and a woman stood in the room. It was clear which one was in charge. They circled him like he was the nucleus to their cell. Jess surmised he must be the one they called The Wolf. Tall in stature, with broad shoulders, he exuded an air of confidence that reminded her of someone, though she wasn't sure who. His suit did little to hide an incredibly fit body, especially for someone who must be in his mid- to late sixties. As she was shoved forward, she noticed other details like the gray laced through his thick black hair and the scar that bisected his cheek from his chin to his lower eyelid.
His eyes...
Good God, it couldn't be. She knew those eyes. She'd stared into those eyes as she'd made love again and again. Dark steel, the color of the churning storm outside. Kayne's eyes. But this sure as hell wasn't Kayne, because while there was a resemblance physically, there was nothing but a soulless murderer staring at her.
The stranger's eyes flickered in amusement for a moment. “I see that bastard son of mine chose better this time. Obviously, you've figured out who I am.” Even his voice was Kayne's, despite his thick Russian accent.
Jess took a staggering step back. “His mother said she had no idea who you were.”
“Nina had her reasons for keeping secrets. Didn't you, dear?” He turned to the woman next to him. His mother? She was part of this?
Nina scoffed. “Oh, don't look so shocked. You of all people should understand why I participated in this.”
Jess slowly shook her head, whether in denial or confusion, she wasn’t sure. “Actually, I'm at a loss, but let’s start with this, what exactly is this?”
“She,” Kayne’s sperm donor—Jess couldn’t bring herself to think of him as her husband’s father—said, indicating Gracie, “Will ensure Krysin returns what he stole from me. Or not.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him either way.
Jess tried to take a step back, only to feel a wall of muscle in her path. “Who is Krysin?”
“Cody said the marriage was a sham, but really. Doesn't my bastard talk to you about anything?” Nina mocked. “Krysin is Tasha's maternal grandfather.”
Cody? How the hell did he fit into this? Jess frowned. “You willingly killed your own grandchildren?” She studied Kayne's sperm donor, frantically piecing the puzzle together.
“They are little more than a means to an end. Krysin feels the same. In fact, he was my inspiration for drowning them. I took great delight in letting Oksana escape, once I had ensured she was pregnant.” He smiled manically.
Dear God, he was the monster who'd raped a fourteen-year-old Oksana? Jess fought hard to swallow the fear that was threatening to erupt in the form of vomit.
“Krysin's response was to return that baby to me on the day of his birth. He'd drowned the little bastard. Too bad he hadn't done that with the first bastard I'd sired, then none of us would be here.”
It took a second for Jess to realize he meant Kayne. Christ Almighty, life meant nothing to this man. “You are a part of this?” She looked Nina in the eye, hoping she read the contempt Jess felt for her. “How could you be with someone that would have so little regard for life? Are money and security all the matter to you?”
Nina laughed a cold humorless laugh. “That was good. Cody, would you like to remind Jessica how you helped her kill her first husband and collect his death benefits?”
Already reeling from the previous revelations, it took a moment for what Nina said to sink in, but when it did Jess shouted, “I did no such thing! I loved Jarred.”
Jess stood helpless as a man dragged a badly beaten Cody Johnson into the room. Fuck, even Cody was involved in this. Somehow that didn't surprise her as much as it should.
“This wasn’t the deal,” he rasped, looking at her through eyes that were nearly swollen shut. “I agreed to help you take the brat. It's not my fault your men fucked up time and time again. Let her go.” Cody’s voice was full of a threat his body clearly couldn’t back.
“Never. This all started with the birth of Kayne, but it will end here. When everything that has ever mattered to Krysin and Dobrescu—what a name, Dobrescu translates to good-son and that little bastard has been anything but—has been destroyed while they watch. Only then will it be over. She matters to him, so she must die too.”
Cody struggled to get free. “No, you promised me I would get Jess.”
“I lied.” The Wolf’s tone was flat. Emotionless.
Before Jess could blink, The Wolf pulled out a handgun and shot Cody between the eyes. Jessica was too stunned to scream.
As
if he executed people every day—and the sick son of a bitch probably did, she thought grimly—he turned away. “Zeff, take them to the underground room and chain them up. The storm is almost here.”
“No, please. I need to be able to take care of my daughter,” Jess pleaded. “I swear I won't run.” Taking a wild guess that Kayne had been given his Russian middle name for a reason, Jess said, “Aleksandr, please.” She stood no chance of escape if she were chained up.
There was a brief flash of surprise in his features. She'd guessed right.
“It's a shame you ended up with Dobrescu; you're a smart girl. I would have enjoyed you.” He looked lecherously over her body. “I had his first wife, maybe I'll have you too before it's over. I'm sure he'd enjoy watching me take my pleasure with you, don't you?”
Jess couldn't help the shudder of revulsion that ran through her. God, she was going to be sick.
“In the meantime, there are arrangements for Dobrescu's whelp.”
The Wolf nodded, and his brute squad jumped to action like well-trained circus monkeys. Too bad they looked far more dangerous. “Take her with you.” He motioned to Nina.
“Me? What? No, Sasha, don't do this. I beg— ” Nina’s words cut off midsentence when The Wolf backhanded her, then jammed his gun barrel to her forehead.
“You swore to me, when you came back from California, that you'd gotten rid of that little bastard. Yet he lives. I should have killed you years ago, when I discovered your lie. Not only did he live, he was married to Valentin's daughter. You'd have been dead long ago if I still didn't have a possible use for you. Go, or I will shoot you now.” Jess had no doubt he'd do it too. He'd already proven he was capable of unspeakable acts.
The scariest of the brute squad—the one The Wolf had just called Zeff—grabbed Jess’s arm, spun her around, and marched her out of the cabin toward the forest behind it. A fat drop of rain landed on the hand that cradled Gracie's head into the crook of her neck. Gracie wasn't making a sound, but she was trembling like an Aspen leaf. If they made it out of here, there was going to be serious therapy in her future. When, damn it. When they made it out.
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