And they went up.
She climbed to the top and felt the door. Wood with a sturdy metal lock and a knob that wouldn’t budge. No light came through the edges, but she felt a gap at the bottom. It could be night outside, or it led to another underground chamber. Either way, it was her best bet for an escape route.
She plucked the drone spider from her hair and held it on her hand by the gap under the door, then spoke the wake-word and gave the spider drone the instruction that could save her life. “Find a signal. Transmit location.”
The spider came to life, and she felt the feathery touch of its legs as it left her palm and slipped under the door, then she crawled back down the stairs and found a crevice in which the stench of dead fake cousin was least overwhelming.
Now she would wait and hope the drone transmitted her location before Reuben returned.
Chapter Fifty-Four
“You need to go to Kulik’s. Can you do that without killing him?” Freya’s question was deadly serious.
Rand gave it the consideration it deserved. She was right. His character would show up at Kulik’s and demand to see Kira, having no idea that she’d a) been abducted, and b) seen video of him kissing Nadia. But he did see blood and broken glass and had met her supercilious “fiancé.” Hostility was warranted.
“Sixty-forty chance I won’t hurt him. Depends on what the prick tells me.”
“Sixty-forty isn’t good enough, Fallon.”
Again, she was right.
He closed his eyes and saw the blood on the floor. He remembered how Kira had looked in December when he’d turned her over and saw the cut on her forehead and bruises from multiple blows to her face.
His fault then. His fault now.
There was a click on the line, and he realized Freya had dropped NSWC from their connection. This was now a private conversation. “I love her too, Rand. In a lot of ways, she’s the only family I have left. From before.”
He heard the tears in her voice and felt his own eyes burn.
His feelings for Kira couldn’t be conveyed with words. She was, quite simply, everything.
And he’d left her vulnerable to that prick.
He cleared his throat. “I can do it. But if he even hints that he’s hurt her, it’s open season. It’s what Reece Foresman would do.”
And that was who he’d been playing today. The thriller writer who killed with words—“Sweetheart, I’m also deadly with paper”—and bodybuilder who knew how to throw a punch.
“Fair.” Freya let out a shuddering breath. “We’ll get her back. He can’t risk killing her, not when his father was expecting to see her. She’s alive somewhere, waiting until he needs her again. He’s hidden every move he’s made against Kira from his father. He won’t blow it now.”
Rand believed that. It was the only reason he wasn’t charging in with a team of SEALs already.
He dressed carefully for his visit to the Kulik villa. A man confused about why his girlfriend left without a word. Worried because someone had clearly been hurt when an expensive piece of artwork broke.
He drove to the estate, and the gate opened without him even having to slow the vehicle. He parked by the fountain and marched up the path to the ornate doors.
Reuben met him in the entryway. “What do you want?”
“Kira.”
His brow furrowed. “Why? Did you lose her somewhere?”
Rand’s right hand curled into a fist. He took a deep breath. “I was told she left Laskin’s estate on the helicopter with you.” He was told no such thing, but the lie was reasonable.
“Who said that? The maid you kissed? Kira saw the video, you know.”
“She came on to me. I humored her because it was the only way to get rid of her.”
“Right. I hope your fiction is better than that or you’ll starve.”
Rand took a step closer to Reuben, entering his personal space and spreading his shoulders in a posture sure to intimidate the smaller man.
This guy had hurt Kira. Rand didn’t know what he’d done—Freya said the locket had gone into a pocket after the initial blows—but he’d heard Kira’s groans and Reuben’s nasty words.
“Where. Is. Kira?”
“I have no idea.”
Footsteps sounded on the staircase, and Rand looked up to see Luka Kulik descending the wide, curved steps to the right of the entry hall.
“You again,” Luka said. “Where is my daughter? She said she was coming to see her mother’s paintings.”
Rand had noticed the man’s yellowish skin yesterday. Was it more pronounced today or was it the lighting? Could be hepatitis, but also, there were several poisons that triggered jaundice. He wouldn’t put it past Reuben to be slowly poisoning his father. If the man already had a chronic hepatitis B diagnosis, it could be assumed to be a flare-up.
If he was dying—or believed he was dying—it could explain his desire to see Kira to the point of luring her to Malta. Even the July third deadline made sense. He couldn’t let her put off the trip, not when he didn’t have much time left.
No wonder Reuben was scared. He’d been so close to having it all. His father’s fortune, a political ally in Laskin, and a strike on the US military that would secure his political position.
