“You said these tests were important. So, fuel first. You don’t have much time, and it’s important for you to eat.”
Her heart contracted, and that roller coaster in her stomach was on full loops. He was such a sweet man. The best of the best. She had no idea how she’d gotten so lucky, but she was going to give him everything he ever wanted or needed.
She sent him one emotion-laden look from under her lashes. “Don’t ever tell me you aren’t a good man, Andrii. Not ever again.”
He flashed her another one of his heart-stopping grins. “Doesn’t mean we aren’t going to be discussing dreams in the future, Zelie. We’re just putting that on pause for today.”
He handed her a box of the most delicious Thai shrimp, along with chopsticks. She sat in the sun with him, fueling for her tests and enjoying every bite. It was perfection.
EIGHT
Azelie used the private side entrance that was for employees only. Not all employees. One had to have a special microchipped card to gain entrance. An armed guard sat in the hallway behind a desk supposedly to check IDs. She knew he was there to ensure no one took that small left corridor that led beyond the underground Adventure Club. The door was built seamlessly into the wall, impossible to see. If one didn’t know it was there, the entrance to the underground offices would be difficult to find even when looking for it.
The guard looked up as she approached. It was always the same. He recognized her, she knew him. His name was Bobby Aspen, and he’d been working the security in that corridor for as long as she’d been working for Alan Billows. At sixteen, she’d been silly enough to find the intrigue exciting—thrilling even. She wanted to help her sister by paying for her own clothing and also to give something to Janine toward the household expenses. If she was being honest, she had wanted to show off. Few people had her skills, and even fewer had them at her age.
“Hey, Bobby,” she greeted and pulled back the hood of the sweatshirt she wore so he could see her face and clearly identify her. “How are you?”
“I’m good, but Sandra has a nasty virus,” he said. “Being a schoolteacher, she gets every single illness those kids bring to the classroom.”
Sandra was his wife. They didn’t have children, and after getting to know Billows and understanding the extent of his criminal activities, Azelie thought it was a good thing he didn’t have a large family. Anyone associating with Billows lived under a threat—including her. Maybe especially her, since she had been doing his books for so many years. She knew if she quit, she would have to disappear for a while. She knew too much about their activities. Not really what they were doing so much as that the amounts he brought in were massive and came from illegal activity.
Over the years, she’d been in the office working while Billows had visitors, seedy men dressed in suits. They smiled at her when they greeted her, but their eyes were speculative and moved over her face and body, leering and giving her the creeps. Billows had hustled them from the office she was working in and later would come back to reprimand her for not locking the door. He had a policy that she was never to lock the door. It was a direct order, but the few times she had locked the door after he yelled at her, he seemed to change his mind.
She detested Billows’ mood swings. She detested him, but she’d learned to stay calm and act friendly and a little spacey, as if she didn’t have too much in the brain department. She knew he had begun to believe she was gifted when it came to making his books look legitimate, but he also believed she wasn’t quite bright in any other field.
“Tell Sandra I hope she gets better,” Azelie told Bobby.
Bobby lowered his voice. “He’s in a mood and he’s texted four times to see if you’re on your way down.” There was concern in his tone.
Whatever the problem was, Billows was really acting out of character. He had never come to her house before or waited by the bus stop for her. Something was really wrong. Clearly, Bobby thought it was unusual for Billows to text him about her arrival time or he wouldn’t feel the need to warn her.
“Thanks.” She lifted her hand at him. “Let him know I’m on my way.” She gave Bobby a vague smile. She knew from experience not to trust anyone no matter how friendly they seemed. If Billows employed them, he bought that loyalty and kept it through fear and money. She’d learned that much about him.
Billows tended to surround himself with men like her brother-in-law. Yes-men. Men who had addictions and failings and could be taken advantage of. It seemed to be Billows’ specialty to spot men and women he could use.
When she’d first been shown the door that fitted so seamlessly into the wall, she thought it was super cool. She’d been so excited to discover that beneath two dance floors was a maze with hidden rooms. The idea of it sounded so much like spies and fantasy. To a sixteen-year-old, the concept of secret passageways, guards and special IDs was intriguing.
“Fantasy versus reality,” she murmured as she started down the narrow steps lit only by LED lights. “Not so fun when you know your boss is creepy.”
She had been working alone in the office one night when she heard screams. She had worked up the nerve to investigate, even though Billows had ordered her to stay in her office and go nowhere else. She’d never once broken his rule until she heard someone screaming. It had sounded like a woman in pain, and she couldn’t just ignore it.
The office she always worked in was soundproof. The entire floor was soundproof. Above them, music played constantly, and customers played in the lavish dungeon-themed Adventure Club. Above that were more music and even more customers, dancing and talking in the Pleasure Train Club. Despite the amount of people and noise above the office, it was absolutely quiet in the underground maze. That was why hearing someone scream was so shocking. And frightening.
Azelie had leapt up, knocking over her chair. She was ashamed that it took a few seconds to force her terrified brain to stop panicking and allow her to move. She had never been shown around to the other offices. She knew there were hidden doors and cameras everywhere. Billows would know she’d run out of her office into the corridor rather than heading back up the stairs. He would be able to view the security tapes even if someone wasn’t monitoring and informing him she was breaking the rules.
The screams increased in volume, sending chills down her spine. She ran toward the sound, but it was abruptly cut off. The ensuing silence seemed worse than the screams. She found herself facing three walls as the corridor dead-ended. That meant there had to be hidden doors in the wooden panels. Whoever had screamed was behind one of the walls.
“What the fuck are you doing, Azelie?” Billows sounded furious. “You aren’t to leave that office.”
She leaned against the wall, one hand supporting her, her palm seeking to reassure the woman when she had no chance of finding her. She found herself trembling.
“I’m sorry, Alan.” She was conciliatory immediately. “I heard screaming. A woman.” There was no point in denying it. “She sounded hurt, in pain. I rushed out to find her, to help, but I don’t know my way around and I got lost.”
His fingers bit deep into her arm, his grip hard enough to leave bruises. “Call me next time you think you hear something. This entire floor is wired.”
He began walking her back toward her office.
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means if you step wrong, you could set off a bomb.”
She paled, the color draining from her face. “Do you mean you have active bombs down here? If I accidentally set one off, would it kill the people above us?”
Billows’ fingers bit even deeper. “Don’t you dare get hysterical on me. I was watching a fucking horror movie in the office next to yours and I had the door open a crack. You heard the screaming and, like an idiot, didn’t bother to text me to see what was happening.”
He was lying. She knew he was lying. Worse, that woman had stopped screaming. Azelie had no idea who she was or where she was. If she called the police and they came and searched the maze, they might set off bombs. She wanted to go home and pull the covers over her head and pretend she’d never met Billows.
He practically flung her into a chair, his face a mask of anger. She knew he could feel her trembling; there was no way to stop it. He hadn’t answered her question about the bombs. She absolutely believed him that there were bombs. What was he doing besides rearranging his books to make his businesses seem legitimate?
“I’m sorry, Alan,” she said, pouring contriteness into her voice. She didn’t feel contrite. She just felt scared. “I won’t leave my office again.”
“You’d better not.” He sounded menacing.
Now, each time she descended the narrow stairs to the office where she worked, the atmosphere beneath the dance floors always felt tense and oppressive. It felt sinister and dark, as if a thousand ghosts cried out for her to join them.
She ignored her overactive imagination and headed straight for the office she always used. The door was open, and Alan Billows was waiting for her inside, one hip to the desk. His dark eyes jumped to her face as she pushed back the hood and shook out her hair.
