“But,” Megan said, “if we hit him personally, rather than through his business, and we hit him hard, surely he’ll get the message and leave Claire alone? Plus we’d still have the information we need to find Katrina. And the authorities would still have what they needed to take down the whole organisation in one fell swoop. We’d all get what we want.”
Rachel nodded, surprising everyone by taking Megan’s side—again. “I agree. From everything we know about Abramovich, I don’t see why a personal message wouldn’t work on him. It makes sense that Claire’s family would strike out at him to make him back off. I don’t see how that would have repercussions for a police investigation.”
Callum ignored Rachel and addressed Megan. “I know you want this to end for your sister. You need to trust me that that’s exactly what we’re going to do. It will just take a little longer than we envisioned.”
“And in that time, Claire gets to worry about Rudi coming for her while she’s pregnant. We can’t watch her every single minute of every day. The risk is too high. If we don’t make it clear that Rudi needs to back off now, we take a risk with the lives of Claire and her baby.”
“You have to trust us. We know what we’re doing.” Callum would not be moved on this point. “Hurting Rudi, because that’s what you’re talking about here, will only make him suspicious. It could jeopardise the whole plan. It’s a risk we can’t take.”
Megan wriggled in Dimitri’s arms before turning to him. “Let me go. I won’t hit anyone.”
He didn’t want to, but he opened his arms. Megan pulled up a chair and sat right beside him, her thigh touching his as though needing the warmth to ground her. Dimitri placed a hand low on her back and rubbed his thumb to soothe her. She relaxed a fraction more, but didn’t acknowledge his touch in any other way.
“I really don’t see how it could jeopardise the police side of things,” Rachel said. “There is no way to connect Dimitri and Megan to the police. If they should warn him off Claire, while they have their meeting with him, it would only come across as a personal response by a family member to a personal threat. I don’t see how he could connect it to his business in any way.”
“We can’t take that risk,” Callum said again. “Getting his business records and getting out in one piece is more important than anything else.” He looked at Megan. “That’s if you’re still on board.”
Dimitri wanted to smack Callum for asking the question. It showed how little he knew of the woman. He felt her stiffen under his hand. Her chin shot up and her eyes were dark.
“I’ll do my part. Unlike some people in this room, I keep my word.” She stood, her posture rigid as though she was clinging to her control by sheer will.
Callum nodded. “I had to ask.”
“No, you really didn’t.” Megan shook her head in disgust and left the room.
“You’re making a mistake,” Rachel said to Callum once Megan was gone. “You should trust her, trust your team to pull this off without jeopardising future arrests.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Rachel.”
Dimitri winced at Callum’s words. He saw Rachel’s lips thin and her eyes narrow. The temperature in the room seemed to drop by several degrees. And Dimitri wondered if they’d made a terrible mistake by tying Megan’s hands. He, more than anyone else in the room, knew exactly how far a person would go to protect someone they loved. And he knew Megan was nowhere near her limit.
Chapter Fourteen
“This isn’t going to work,” Megan complained for the thousandth time since Julia had suggested they head across London to Rachel’s flat for a private girl meeting. Her anger had worn off and now all she was left with was a sickening sense of betrayal that made her want to vomit. “She hates me. She won’t help.”
“Have some faith,” said the woman who hid behind office plants.
“Either way, it should be entertaining,” Elle added, as she adjusted the yellow headband she’d pulled from her bag. It matched her skater dress perfectly and made her look like a punk Doris Day.
They entered the lobby of Rachel’s swanky apartment building on Hyde Park Corner and approached the concierge desk.
“We’re here to see Rachel Ford-Talbot,” Megan said, mainly because Julia was pretending to be invisible again and Elle was too busy checking out the decor.
“One moment, madam,” the guy in the tailored suit said as he reached for the phone. “Whom shall I say is calling?”
“Her nemesis, her pet hacker and the invisible office manager,” Megan said.
Julia poked her in the back. Megan rolled her eyes. “Megan Donaldson, Elle Roberts and Julia Collins.”
“Very well.” He dialled Rachel’s apartment.
“Ms Ford-Talbot, you have guests here to see you. A Ms Megan Donaldson, Ms Elle Roberts and a Ms Julia Collins.”
There was a moment’s silence while the guy listened to Rachel. Megan tried to work out Rachel’s end of the conversation from the completely blank look on his face, but she didn’t get very far.
“Ms Ford-Talbot would like to know what business you have with her this evening?” the guy said at last.
“We’re staging a revolt and thought she’d like to be in on it,” Megan said.
He repeated her statement word for word then listened. “Of course, madam.”
He replaced the phone while Megan waited to be kicked out of the building. There was no way Rachel would entertain them. The woman only thought about herself and had made it perfectly clear that she considered everything else, beneath her notice.
“You may go up. Apartment five. Use the last elevator on the left.”
For a second Megan stared at the guy, unable to believe they had gained entrance to the princess’s tower, then she felt a tug on her sweater.
“Thanks,” she said as she followed Julia and Elle to the lift.
“Do you know that the cheapest apartment in this building goes for thirty-seven million pounds,” Elle said.
“No way!” Megan’s jaw dropped and she wondered if she should wipe her fingerprints from the elevator buttons. Or even better, erase her shabby presence from the building all together.
“Yep.” Elle nodded. “This is one of the most elite addresses in the world. And I can tell you for a fact that Rachel’s apartment is not the cheapest in the building—she’s in one of the split-level penthouse apartments.”
“How long has she lived here?” Megan wondered if she’d bought the place from the money she’d earned working for her cousin’s IT company. And if so, she wondered just how much Harry was paying his staff.
“She’s owned this place about three years. Before that she owned a house in Chelsea.” Elle smiled. “Right next door to her parents’ mansion.”
“Ah,” Megan said. “Silver spoon, huh?”
“Platinum spoon,” Elle corrected.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Julia said, and sure enough her face was grey.
“Hey.” Megan wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulder. “It’s only money. Don’t be intimidated.”
Julia looked up at her as she swallowed hard. “It’s not the money. I met lots of wealthy people when I worked in television. It’s Rachel.” She leaned in and whispered. “She’s terrifying.”
Megan couldn’t disagree. “Stay behind me. I’ll protect you.”
“This should be fun,” Elle muttered.
A few minutes later they were standing on plush burgundy carpet outside the door to Rachel’s flat. Megan noted it was the only door in the hallway. It figured Rachel would have her own elevator—she probably had her own butler too. The door opened without them having to knock and to Megan’s surprise they weren’t greeted by the help, but by Rachel herself.
“You must be desperate if you came to me,” Rachel said by way of hello.
“No kidding,” Megan said.
Julia’s arms shot out. She thrust a box of cupcakes in Rachel’s direction. Her face had turned a deep shade of
red but no words came out of her open mouth. She seemed petrified in place.
“We brought cupcakes.” Elle took the box from Julia’s outstretched hands.
Rachel looked at it as though the sugar would jump out and bite her bony backside.
“Oh for goodness sake, it’s just cake. We’ll eat them. Rachel is afraid the calories will cling to her.” Megan rummaged around in her bag, bringing out some carrots and dip. “I got you carrot sticks and carb free, fat free, flavour free dip.” She shoved the lot into Rachel’s hands. “You’re welcome.” She pushed past her and into her flat.
No, not a flat, this was something else. The room was a vast open plan experience, with polished dark wooden floors interspersed with thick white carpets. There was space enough for three large sofas and two armchairs, all shades of white and cream, but with different patterns and textures. The cream walls had a plethora of modern art, some of it Megan even recognised. The paintings were original, expensive and added colour to the room. But the best part of the whole space was the wall of floor to ceiling windows that showed a panoramic view of Hyde Park and the lights of London.
“Holy hell,” Megan hissed. “Just how rich are you, Rachel?”
“It’s crass to ask someone about their wealth.” Rachel sauntered past her to the cool white marble-topped breakfast bar between the living room and the kitchen. The kitchen cabinets were a deep, reflective red. Like blood. Megan shuddered. It suited Rachel to a tee.
Megan dumped her hobo bag on an armchair wide enough for two people and sauntered past the baby grand piano to look out the windows. “On a scale of one to Kardashian, where do you sit?”
“Trust you to compare me to the Kardashians. As I was saying—crass. Let’s just say I’m comfortable and leave it at that.”
“Comfortable?” Megan burst out laughing.
“She’s a trust fund baby.” Elle threw herself into the middle of one of the large, soft sofas and propped her pastel blue Doc Martins on the glass coffee table in front of her. “Her family own TayFor Pharmaceuticals. Her father still holds the majority share and is on the board. Her brother is the current CEO. Rachel is the wild child, believe it or not, because she didn’t go into the family business.” She cocked an eyebrow at Rachel. “I’m still trying to figure out why you didn’t?” When she got no response from Rachel she carried on. “Her estimated worth is round about the six-hundred million mark.”
Megan felt her jaw drop. “I should have let you buy your own carrots.” She curled up in the big armchair and stared out into the darkness at the blinking lights of Central London.
“Get your feet off my table.” Rachel pointed at Elle.
For a second Megan thought Elle would argue, instead she plopped her feet onto the white shag rug.
“Why are you working for my cousin if you’re so rich?” Megan asked.
Rachel gave her a look that said she thought Megan’s IQ had taken another dip. “Do you expect me to spend my life drinking tea and discussing Harry’s love life?”
“Why would you discuss my cousin’s love life? I thought you hated his wife.”
“Not Harry your cousin. I’m talking about the prince. William’s brother.” Rachel let out a sigh. “Grandson of the Queen. That Harry.”
“You know Prince Harry?” It was a good job Megan wasn’t the type of person to feel easily intimidated because this conversation would have caused some serious inferiority issues.
Rachel shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone?”
“Uh, no, Rachel, we don’t all know Prince Harry personally.” Megan thought about it for a second. “But some of us aren’t against being introduced to the guy.” She batted her eyelashes and gave Rachel her best pleading look.
It didn’t work. “I’ll make sure to schedule an introduction for the first of never,” Rachel said. “Now tell me why you’re here and what you want.”
Megan wasn’t quite ready for that conversation just yet. She was done dealing with disappointment for the day. If Rachel was going to kick them out on their ears, she’d rather it was delayed. “Do you have a pool?” she asked, because it seemed like exactly the kind of thing Rachel’s apartment should have.
“Of course. It’s upstairs.” Rachel sauntered towards them. She was dressed in white silk yoga pants with a matching cropped top. Her hair was tied in a high ponytail on top of her head and her feet were bare.
“Great,” Megan said. “Then, do you have a spare room? I’m looking for an alternative place to stay in case I get kicked out of the office.” She let Rachel gape for a beat. “Don’t panic, I was joking.” Still… “But if you ever want someone to look after the place for a few days while you’re away, keep me in mind.”
Rachel’s expression was easy to read—it said Megan was the last person she’d let loose alone in her home. In fact, from the way she was standing, arms folded in the middle of her living room, she was being pretty clear about not wanting her there at any time.
“What do you want?” Rachel said.
“Believe it or not, we’re here to ask for help.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Trust me,” Megan said. “Neither do I.” She pointed at Julia who’d scurried over to the seat furthest from everyone. In this case it was the piano stool. “It was her idea. She said you have connections that we could tap into.”
“Connections like?” Rachel cocked one perfectly groomed eyebrow, which made Megan wonder if she had staff on hand to keep her looking like that.
“Do you have a stylist? A staff of spa people? A live in chef?”
“Do you have ADHD? That would explain why you can’t focus for more than ten seconds at a time. Read my lips—what connections are you talking about?”
“Your pharmaceutical connections of course,” Elle said as she rummaged around in the kitchen area. She came up with a bottle of white wine and four glasses.
“Help yourself,” Rachel said sarcastically.
It washed right over Elle, who said thanks then started pouring the wine.
“Why do you need access to my family’s company?” Rachel asked Megan.
“Well, it’s like this. After this afternoon’s briefing, and the news that Claire is being hung out to dry, we,” she motioned to Julia, Elle and herself, “decided to take matters into our own hands.”
“And exactly how do you plan to do that?” Rachel looked so bored she was almost comatose.
“I’m going to warn Rudi off Claire.”
Elle wandered over, handing out wine glasses to each of the women. Megan noted she’d removed her Doc Martin boots and wore silver rings on most of her blue painted toes.
“And where do I fit into your planning?” Rachel surprised Megan by taking the glass Elle offered and sipping from it without comment. “I won’t be a party to anything that will endanger the team. One of us has to be sensible here.”
“They’re morons, Rachel, but I don’t want them to get hurt. We’ll make sure they’re otherwise occupied while I deal with Rudi.” Megan sipped her wine. It was good. She bet it cost a bomb.
At last, Rachel showed a spark of interest. “You’re taking on the bully? Tell me you’re going to hit him harder than he could ever hit you.” She looked at each of the women in turn.
Julia whispered a yes, Elle grinned widely and Megan nodded.
“We’re going in hard and fast and we’re leaving as much damage as we can when we’re done,” Megan added. “We won’t do anything to interfere with getting the information Dimitri needs, or tipping Rudi off about the investigation and arrests. This is purely about getting him to back off Claire. About standing up to the guy. About making him pay.”
The cold smile that spread over Rachel’s face made Megan shudder. “In that case, ladies. Count me in.”
Elle whooped and held her glass out to Rachel for them to toast her decision. Megan eyed her fellow conspirators. Between them they were smart, resourceful and courageous. The men really shouldn’t have locked them out of the pla
nning.
Megan sat up straight and grinned. “How about we move this meeting to the pool? And don’t forget to bring the cupcakes.”
Chapter Fifteen
“The women are definitely up to something,” Dimitri said the following morning, as he watched them through the glass window in Julia’s office door.
“Yep.” Joe folded his arms over his black wifebeater. It was good to see he looked as disturbed as Dimitri felt at the sight of Megan, Julia, Rachel and Elle with their heads together.
“They’re plotting.”
“Yeah, but what?”
Dimitri glanced over at Joe. “You don’t think they’re going to do something stupid that will interfere with the op, do you?” To be honest, if he was in Megan’s position, that’s exactly what he’d do. Although he completely understood her rage at discovering her sister wouldn’t be safe for months yet, it didn’t mean he’d let her screw things up.
Joe frowned in the direction of the women. “They wouldn’t, would they? Haven’t they been paying attention? They can’t mess with this op, or this guy. He’ll chew them up and spit them out.”
“Yeah, but look at them. Rachel is in there and I don’t hear shouting. That isn’t a good sign.” Dimitri cocked his head as he studied the women. “Maybe we should remind them exactly how dangerous this guy is? Knock this on the head before it causes problems.”
“I like how you think.” Joe grinned at him. “I know just the thing. We’ll give them a slideshow they’ll never forget. Get them to the conference room in ten.”
“And if this doesn’t scare them straight?”
Joe’s eyes turned to flint. “Then we corner the weakest link.”
They looked over at the women.
“Julia,” they said at the same time.
As Joe jogged off, Dimitri headed past reception and into Julia’s office. Laptops snapped shut when he opened the door. Yeah, that wasn’t suspicious at all. Amateurs.
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