“Did you try to convince his submissive to leave him?”
“Yes,” she admits. “Of course I did.”
I exhale in exasperation. “Fiona. What if she tells him? Did you ever consider that he might come after you?” A sudden suspicion strikes me. “Is that what you’re trying to do?” I demand. “You’re deliberately provoking him?”
She immediately shakes her head. “I swear, that thought never crossed my mind. I just saw Katya, and she reminded me so much of myself. I acted on instinct.”
“Stay clear of him, Fiona.” I lace my fingers in hers. “I’m not ordering you as your dominant. I have no desire to control you. I’m asking as someone who would be shattered if anything were to happen to you.”
Her eyes soften. “I promise, I’m not helpless. I have a black belt in taekwondo. My parents were cops. They taught me how to defend myself.” She bats her eyelashes at me, the little minx, as if that’s going to soothe my worries about her safety. “I appreciate you taking care of me,” she says, her voice gentle. “But can you understand how I feel like I have to help Katya?”
“Sandy died in a ski accident,” I tell her. “Adrian suggested the trip. To this day, he blames himself for her death. He thinks he’s responsible.”
Her expression turns shocked. “He does?” she whispers.
I nod. “Please leave Downing alone, Fiona. If something were to happen to you at Club Ménage, Adrian would carry his guilt to his grave. It would wreck him. It would wreck me.”
She leans forward and kisses me on the lips. “I understand,” she says quietly. “I won’t confront Raymond. I promise.”
“Thank you.”
But my fears aren’t entirely eased.
If I had my way, we would leave Club Ménage immediately, and I would deal with Downing privately, without Fiona being anywhere nearby.
I have a very bad feeling about this.
The three of us head downstairs to eat breakfast on the back patio. “This is so good,” Fiona says, digging into her spinach and feta omelet with gusto. “I guess Xavier wasn’t kidding about the place being a resort.”
“It’s pretty nice,” I agree.
Kiera comes over with a pot of coffee in her hand. “Refill?”
Fiona looks up at her. “Hey Kiera,” she greets the bartender. “I didn’t realize you worked at the resort too.”
“Not usually,” Kiera answers. “But one of the waitresses called in sick, so I’m pitching in.” She pours me a cup of coffee. “I’m not looking forward to tonight,” she says conversationally. “It’s going to be a zoo.”
“Why?” Adrian asks, puzzled.
“It’s Open Night tonight.”
I groan. “What’s open night?” Fiona asks when Kiera departs.
“One night every three months, members can bring in up to two guests,” I reply. “The place turns into something of a nightclub.”
“And you’re not a fan of it?”
“It’s a security nightmare,” Adrian says grimly. “It’s a masked ball. Too many masked people on the dance floor, tipsy, giggling… Anything can happen.”
“I love to dance.”
I glance up at her. “You do?” That doesn’t quite fit in the mental image I have of her. It’s ironic, really. I know exactly how hard to finger her to make her come, but I have no clue what she does when she’s not working.
“I do.” She smiles at us. “Can we stay?”
“Of course.” My phone rings and Dix Ketchum’s number flashes across the screen. Fuck. For Dix to be calling me on a Saturday… I pick up the call. “What’s wrong?”
Her voice is somber. “I just got off the phone with Callie Weiss,” she says. “She got fired this morning, and the bitch who owns the motel is refusing to pay her last two weeks of wages. She says that guests have complained about their belongings going missing. She’s accusing Callie of theft, and before you ask, Brody, it’s not true.”
My grip on my coffee cup tightens, and I carefully set it down, afraid I’m going to shatter the handle. Pure, white-hot anger runs through me. The last few days have been idyllic and lost as I was in Fiona, I almost forgot my parents’ latest mess. Almost. “I wasn’t planning on asking.”
This has my mother’s hand all over it. Mary Lou Chaney is smearing Callie’s reputation, ensuring that the woman won’t easily find another job in the small town. I don’t know if the other business owners will believe Mrs. Chaney’s accusations, but I do know that they won’t get involved. Easier not to hire Callie and avoid the appearance of taking sides.
“Do whatever you need to do.”
“It’s not going to be cheap,” Dix warns.
I know. I just wrote a hundred-thousand-dollar check to Callie Weiss last week. Because of Ted Downing’s interference, we’re a little cash-crunched. Both Adrian and I had to dip into our personal funds to cover the cost of bringing the team back home. In the long-term, my finances are in good shape. In the short-term, however?
None of that is Callie Weiss’ fault. She, and her daughter, the young woman that Eugene Payne assaulted, are the real victims here. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll make it work.”
Adrian’s caught enough of my conversation to guess what’s going on. Fiona, on the other hand, is staring at me with unabashed curiosity, mingled with concern. “Is everything alright, Brody?”
I think I’m falling in love with her.
“No,” I reply. “Everything isn’t alright.”
Then I tell her everything, every last sordid bit.
When I’m done, she has tears in her eyes. “Oh, Brody,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry.” She moves her chair closer to me and kisses my lips, and I hold her, breathing in her scent, clinging to her soft curves as if my life depended on it. “What can I do to help?”
“You already have.” I kiss her cheek, brushing my thumb over her lip. “I’ll sort it out. The timing’s a little awkward, but I’ll figure out a way.”
Her eyes narrow. “What do you mean, the timing’s a little awkward?”
Crap. I wasn’t really planning to tell her about Ted Downing’s power play. I give Adrian a glance of appeal. Bail me out here, buddy.
Adrian clears his throat. “Senator Theodore Downing has been applying some pressure on our clients. We’ve lost a few of them this week.”
She stares at us. “Because you confronted Raymond?” she asks. “Were you planning on telling me?”
I don’t want to lie to her. “No.” Her eyes flash with irritation, and I hold up my hand. “Let me finish. Ted Downing didn’t pull this stunt because we confronted Raymond. You know the senator has always wanted us to hire his son. That was true two years ago, and it’s still true. Early last week, he asked us to bid on a contract, more or less assuring us that we’d win.”
“And?”
“We declined,” Adrian replies. “We have no interest in being beholden to Ted Downing. This isn’t about your history with Raymond, Fiona. This is the senator trying to control us.”
She bites her lip. “Okay,” she agrees. “You’re right. This isn’t about me. But…” Her voice trails off.
“But what?”
“Trust is a two-way street,” she says quietly.
She’s right. “We should have told you,” I admit. “I’m sorry.” I place my hand over hers. “We’re going to make mistakes. But you’re important to me, Fiona.”
“To us,” Adrian says.
I nod. “And I’ll do anything in my power to make you happy.” This isn’t about the pet play demo. It isn’t even about dominance and submission. It’s just about us. About the future.
There’s a sheen of tears in her eyes. She blinks them away, and then her expression clears. “I have an idea,” she says, her lips curving into a grin. “Xavier’s still feeling guilty about me, and he’s a romantic. Let’s get him to buy a motel in Mississippi.”
I consider the idea. I don’t know why I’ve never thought about it. Well, I do know. I’ve always thought
of my father’s actions as a burden that I need to carry alone. But Fiona’s right. I can ask for help.
I’m definitely falling in love with this woman.
31
Adrian:
We walk into a fury of sound and light.
The club is transformed. Gone are the seating areas and the center stage. In its place is a dance floor. A low, thumping bass is playing on the sound system, and strobe lights are flashing on and off.
The club is absolutely packed with people dancing to the music, grinding against each other. “Want to dance, Fiona?” Brody shouts above the noise of the music. “Come on.”
I shake my head and follow them. I don’t have a good feeling about this.
Half an hour later, the three of us have worked up quite a sweat. We’re ready to take a break when someone slams against Fiona. I moved protectively in front of her and look up to see who the clumsy fool is.
It’s Downing. Even masked, I’d recognize him anywhere.
Does he want to get beat up in front of an audience? Brody and I have battle-hardened skills. Only a complete idiot would cross us.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” My voice is low and deadly. I take a step closer to Downing, my fist clenched at my side. “Did we not tell you to stay away from Fiona?”
At Downing’s side, his submissive looks terrified. Strangely, her gaze is fixed, neither on Brody nor me, but on the woman at our side. Fiona.
Fiona’s eyes widen. “Adrian,” she says quietly, tugging at my arm. “Listen, it’s a crowded floor, and I’m sure it was just an accident. Let it go.”
Something is wrong. There’s an urgency to Fiona’s tone, a tension in the way she’s standing. I look closer and catch it. In her right hand, she’s holding something that looks like a crumpled scrap of paper.
A note?
Brody sees it too. “Let’s go,” he says curtly.
I take a step back and give Downing a scathing look. “You’re lucky that Fiona’s a better person than I am.”
As we walk to the bar, Fiona moves closer to us. “Katya was the one who bumped into me, and she pushed a note into my hand,” she whispers. “I need to read it.”
I don’t want Downing to see us. “Let’s head upstairs.”
“Okay,” Fiona agrees.
The three of us move toward the exit. “Why doesn’t she just approach us directly?” Brody asks. “Or Xavier, or anyone else? Why the cloak and dagger stuff?”
“I don’t know,” Fiona replies, removing her mask, her face etched with concern. “When I talked to her yesterday, she was terrified. More afraid than I’d ever been.”
A group of people is in the lobby, and we fall silent. The elevator arrives, and we step in. As soon as we are alone, Fiona unfolds the scrap of paper in her hand. Her eyes scan it, and then she shakes her head, exhaling in frustration. “It’s in Russian. I can’t read it.”
“Katya’s a smart girl.” I hold out my hand for the note. “She’s using her brain. If the note’s in Russian, Downing can’t read it.”
“And you can?”
I nod. “I’m not fluent enough to pass for a native, but we did some missions in Georgia and Crimea. I can read well enough. So can Brody.”
I read the note, my fury growing as the words sink in. When I’m done, I hand it to Brody and turn to Fiona. My chest is tight with rage, and my voice is cold. “I am going to kill Downing.”
Fiona:
I thought I had it bad with Raymond. When Adrian tells me what Katya’s note says, I realize how lucky I’ve really been.
As I suspected, Katya Simonova is Russian. She’s the daughter of a reporter who had been quite critical of Putin’s policies. Unfortunately for him, his writings were noticed by the government, and as was far too common in Russia, he disappeared last year.
Fearing for their lives, his family fled Russia and immigrated to Canada as refugees. They spent almost six months there, frantically searching for news of what had happened to Viktor Simonov.
Then Katya received a tip that her father might still be alive. The Russians were doing a deal with the Department of Defense for the purchase of some spare missile parts. Katya came to Washington to beg the senators in charge of that deal to pressure the Russians for word of the missing journalist.
One of the senators was Theodore Downing. He turned down many requests for a meeting, and Katya, in desperation, finally ambushed him at a party.
At that same party, the senator’s son took a dangerous interest in her.
At the start, Raymond promised to intercede on her father’s behalf if Katya had sex with him. But the situation quickly spiraled out of control. Raymond had started beating her, sharing her with friends without her consent.
And last month, after she tried to escape back to Canada, he stole her passport and held her prisoner.
Katya was trapped, with no friends to turn to, no means of contacting her family, and no way of knowing who to trust. Until last night.
“That poor girl,” I say out loud, absolutely aghast. “What are we going to do?”
Adrian looks grim. “He’s gone too far this time,” he says, opening his room door. “The senator might turn a blind eye to Downing’s activities in Thailand, but he’s not going to be able to sweep this under the table quite as easily.”
I kick off my high heels and sink on his bed, flexing my toes in relief. “You think he’s going to disavow Raymond?”
Adrian nods. “I’m reasonably sure of it. The senator cares about Raymond, but he cares about his career and reputation more, and this is kidnapping. Raymond Downing has finally crossed the line.”
Brody pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Let’s retrieve the passport.”
“You can do that?”
Any other day, he’d have grinned. Not today. “Yes,” he says soberly. “We can do that.”
“I don’t want Raymond to get away with it.”
“He won’t,” Brody replies. “Once my team finds the passport, they’ll call the cops and get them there. Downing’s going to find out that actions have consequences.”
“Will he go to jail?” After what he did to Katya and to that poor prostitute in Thailand, I hope they lock the cell and throw away the key.
“Kidnapping. Blackmail. Rape. Assault. He can’t dodge all the charges.”
“Only if Katya testifies.”
Adrian gives me a humorless smile. “He isn’t going to get away with this,” he says. “Trust me.”
Always.
“While you get the passport,” Adrian says to Brody, “I’m going to find Xavier and make sure Downing doesn’t leave the premises. Fiona, want to come with me? You made this happen, after all.”
I get back on my feet and fumble for my discarded shoes. Funny how these things work. I’d been brought into Club Ménage to investigate a blackmail attempt. A photo of Maria Dumonte, strapped to a red Saint Andrew’s Cross had started all this.
A red Saint Andrew’s Cross.
The truth strikes me like lightning. Of course. How could I have missed it?
Adrian notices the change in my expression. “What’s the matter?”
“I just realized why Xavier doesn’t seem to care about Maria Dumonte’s blackmail attempt,” I reply. “Let’s get Raymond sorted out, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Henri tells us that Xavier is on the club floor. We find him near the bar. Maria Dumonte is chatting with him, her eyes sparkling. As I watch, she reaches out and touches his arm, an inviting smile on her face. She’s clearly besotted with him.
We approach Xavier. “Can I talk to you for a few minutes?” I ask. “Alone?”
He surveys me with an inscrutable expression. “Of course,” he says. “Maria, if you’ll excuse me?”
Maria gives me an evil look. Oh, honey, I’m not interested in him, I want to assure her. I have my own dominants, and I wouldn’t exchange them for the world.
Xavier leads the way to his office. Brody catc
hes up with us on the way, giving Adrian a meaningful nod. “It’s taken care of,” he says. “Team’s on premise. They’ll call me once they locate the passport.”
“What’s going on?” Xavier pushes open the door and gestures to the chairs in front of his desk. Adrian and Brody sit down, but I remain standing. Adrenaline is surging in my blood.
Adrian speaks up. “It’s Fiona’s story,” he said. “She should tell it.”
My heart warms in appreciation of their support. “You were looking for something on Raymond,” I say. “I think we’ve found it.” I explain the contents of the note. “We need to keep Raymond here in the club, and keep Katya safe until her passport is found and the cops are here.”
Xavier’s expression grows cold as I tell my story. He picks up his phone. “Bring Downing and his submissive up here,” he says to the person on the other end of the line. He hangs up and turns to me. “I owe you a debt of gratitude, Fiona. How can I ever repay you?”
“I’m sure we’ll find a way,” I reply, thinking about the motel in Mississippi. “You knew Maria Dumonte was never being blackmailed, didn’t you?”
He gives me a searching look. “I had my suspicions. Maria is rather transparent in her affections, and the blackmail seemed like a cry for attention. How did you find out?”
“The color of the Saint Andrew’s Cross.” I pull the photo from my purse and slide it toward him. “I should have noticed right away. All the equipment here is black and silver. The cross in this picture is red.”
Adrian and Brody lean forward. “I’ll be damned,” Brody says. “Good catch, Fiona.”
Brody’s phone rings. He listens briefly to the person on the other end of the line, and he hangs up. “They have the passport.”
Yes. Raymond is finally going to get what he deserves.
“Good.” Xavier leans back. “Let’s talk to Downing.”
Brody gives me a warning look. “If Downing’s on his way up, you shouldn’t be here.”
Listen to him, Fiona. This isn’t about you. It’s about Adrian.