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CHAPTER ELEVEN
“It wasn’t—isn’t your fault,” Casper told Persy for what she knew had to be the dozenth time as she paced up and down the sitting room of her apartment.
She paused long enough to level a glare at him. “I’m the person responsible for Martyna finally finding the courage to leave her husband.”
“Before he had the privacy and opportunity to kill or have her killed.”
“We don’t know that for certain.”
“Don’t we?” Casper scoffed. “I met Morozov in person this morning, remember? Two minutes—one minute in his company, and there was no mistaking the fact he’s a cold-blooded killer.”
Persy gave a pained frown. “Martyna said he was kind to her at first. Caring. Loving.”
“Of course he was. The bastard wanted inside her panties,” Casper scorned. “Once they were married, he turned into a fucking monster who didn’t hesitate to hit her in a public restaurant. Or to execute, or have executed, the three bodyguards who had allowed her to get away from him several weeks later!”
Persy knew Casper was right. Of course, he was. But thinking of the possibility of Martyna being back in Vadim Morozov’s violent clutches brought her out in a cold sweat.
Although the chance of Morozov’s men having arrived at Persy’s apartment during those few vital minutes when Casper and Persy were in her bedroom surely had to be pretty remote?
Maybe.
But at the moment, they still had no idea if Martyna had left of her own accord or if she’d been taken by more of Morozov’s men. Men who were no doubt all too aware of what happened to the last three men who had failed their employer.
Persy hadn’t heard a single noise to indicate which of those choices it might be while she and Casper were in her bedroom. She knew that was because they had both been totally lost in each other and the passion their kisses had ignited.
A complete search of the apartment hadn’t revealed any clues as to whether Martyna had left willingly or not. The other woman had brought very little with her when she left her husband, just a shoulder bag in which she’d kept her cell phone and purse, and the gun she’d pointed at them. Martyna had also stashed the more expensive pieces of jewelry given to her by her husband in that shoulder bag.
Although, Persy had already warned the other woman against trying to sell any of those gifts in London. Morozov would know of the missing jewelry by now and likely had feelers out to anyone who was willing to buy such expensive gems without evidence of purchase, which Martyna didn’t have because they had been gifts.
The fact Martyna’s bag was also missing could be because she’d chosen to take it with her when she left. Equally, Morozov had ordered his men to bring it with them when they brought his wife back to him. Not only because of the jewelry, but because Martyna’s cell phone had all her contact numbers, including Persy’s.
A brief telephone conversation with Caleb and Richie had assured Persy and Casper that no one had arrived or left the building through the front entrance.
At which point, Casper had accepted responsibility for not instructing one of those men to stand guard at the back of the apartment building. He admitted he simply hadn’t thought it would be necessary. Mainly because he hadn’t thought that if Persy was responsible for helping Martyna, she had actually hidden the other woman in her own home.
Both Persy and Casper accepted that if they hadn’t disappeared into her bedroom and been distracted by kissing each other, there wouldn’t have been enough time for Martyna to have been either carried off or to have left of her own accord because she no longer felt safe here.
Either way, Persy knew she’d let the other woman down in the worst possible way, and no amount of reassurance from Casper was going to make her think otherwise—
“You can’t stay here.”
“Sorry?” Persy blinked to clear her head of the thoughts that kept racing round and round in circles inside her head with no obvious solution in sight.
Casper gave a sigh as he walked toward her. “You can’t stay here,” he repeated huskily. “Whether Martyna left voluntarily or if she was taken, it isn’t safe right now for you to remain in your apartment.”
Which was why, Persy acknowledged heavily, the first rule of protection was not to hide the protectee in your own apartment. She appreciated the fact that Casper was refraining from saying the equivalent of “I told you so” on the subject.
She nodded abruptly. “I’ll book into a hotel for a couple of nights—”
“We’ll both go back to the estate,” Casper cut in firmly. “For Martyna’s future safety, there needs to be a family discussion before any further move is made on our part.”
Persy winced at the unspoken criticism of her having acted alone in helping Martyna escape in the first place. “I thought I was helping her…”
“You were helping her.” Casper raised his uninjured arm and cupped the side of Persy’s face with the warmth of his palm. “We now need to take that help to the next level, and we’ll need an army with which to do it. The men working at Kingston Security and the family army,” he added firmly.
Casper was right. Of course he was. She should never have attempted to rescue Martyna on her own.
Besides, however or why Martyna had left Persy’s apartment, the other woman was no longer going to think of it as a place of refuge. Which meant Martyna wouldn’t come back here, no matter what her current situation might be.
