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“Where are you hiding it?” he asked sternly, but I remained silent. Then he laughed.
“Looks like someone's itching to be examined. For the last time, Grace, where is it?”
The only thing you need to know are these two rules: One. You can't give this envelope toanyone else. No one, Grace. Never give it to anyone else. Secondly. Never open it. Keep itsealed.
I didn’t answer. He killed my father. He cannot be trusted.
The corners of his lips crooked upwards, and without warning he slipped a hand under my shirt and his warm hands brushed my bare skin. I gasped, wide-eyed, and blushed. He grinned at my reaction and bared his white teeth as he continued his assault.
Slowly, he slid his hand down my back and then ran it deliberately and with intent over my flat stomach, examining it thoroughly. I inhaled sharply as his hands journeyed higher and touched the thin fabric of my bra. Against my will, my nipples hardened, and the growing smile on his lips told me he could feel them.
“Well,” he said, his voice so deep, it sent chills down my spine. “So far, nothing.”
“Told you, didn’t I?” I spat.
“That doesn’t mean you don’t have it,” he snarled, his eyes growing darker than the galaxy. He pulled a gun from his belt, and I felt my heart drop into my pants. “Listen, little girl, I don’t have time for games. Where the hell is the envelope?”
An accusatory frown creased my forehead, and I leaned forward to challenge him. “Who do you think you're calling a little girl? I’m twenty-one, old man, and I'm telling you, I don’t have the bloody envelope.”
He put the gun under my chin and forced my head up. A grin formed on his lips as he leisurely stroked my chin with the cold steel.
“Such a pretty face.” He murmured.
“What are you still waiting for? Don’t just pretend, you know you can get away with it, you're a mob boss. Pull the damn trigger and don’t feel sorry for me.”
I was terrified and couldn’t believe what was coming out of my mouth, but I had to let the tough girl hang out. This Varkov guy didn’t know who he was dealing with. If he thought he was going to get me that easily, he had his work cut out for him.
“Huh,” he scoffed, tilting his head. “You're bloody mad and so fucking stubborn and beautiful for risking your life like that. I admire your determination to be brave, but rest assured I'm not going to kill you. Not tonight, anyway.”
I swallowed carefully and kept the fear out of my voice. “What are you going to do to me?”
“I don't know yet,” he said with a shrug and got up from his chair. “But you should know that I’m not going to let you go that easily.”
To anyone else, that might have sounded like a good thing. But to me, it sounded worse.
Much worse. I imagined all the things he could do to give me a slow and painful death. He stood next to the chair, one hand in his pocket, the other on the chair, watching me intently.
I was curious. I had to know why this envelope was so important and why precious lives had to be risked for it. “Is there a USB drive in the envelope? What’s on it? Why are you willing to sacrifice innocent lives for it?” I asked.
His icy frown impaled me, nailing me to the chair. “You may think it’s just a small piece of hardware, but it's not ordinary, Grace. It holds more power than you could ever imagine.”
He turned and walked away while I wondered what this was really about, but more importantly, how I could escape Igor Varkov.
Chapter 6 - Igor
My steps out of the house and to the car were brisk and sharp. Alexei was already standing by the car, smartly dressed in an all-black outfit and polished shoes, waiting while he scanned the surroundings with his hands folded over his crisp pants. When his eyes met mine, he jumped into the car and revved the engine. I made myself comfortable in the passenger seat, slammed the door, and fastened my seatbelt.
“Drive.”
My tone was flat and only loud enough for Alexei to hear. It was quiet on the drive to the office. My thoughts wandered back to the house and especially to my hostage. This spirited and stubborn young woman was keeping me on my toes. I had to find a way to crack her and tell me where she had hidden the envelope.
Three days had passed since the incident with Connor at Clooney’s and three days since I'd had Grace in my home. I'd had her moved from the dark room to an unused bedroom upstairs and locked her in. A smile tugged at my lips; there was no way she could escape. Every time I saw her beautiful face and the sparks in her green eyes when she tried to convince me to let her go, a warmth spread through my heart. I enjoyed having her in my house and our daily banter.
“Uh, boss?” Alexei said, snapping me out of my thoughts, and I turned my head towards him.
“I’m listening.”
Alexei cleared his throat and gripped the steering wheel even tighter. He turned and moved into another lane, his eyes still on the road. “The news of Connor’s death has gotten around among the Irish mob and they're not taking it well.”
