Her every nightmare rose, freezing Amber to the spot. Warren Brady stood behind his huge desk to wave her into a chair. He smiled but, like a kabuki mask, revealed nothing of his true face beyond the cold stare fixed in a double-barreled bead.
“You’re still the image of your mother.”
His reference to her family broke through her paralysis. “I doubt you’ve changed.”
“We are what we are. Please, have a seat.”
She sat, posture rigid as they faced off across the gleaming desktop. “I’m here as your prisoner not a guest, so don’t play the congenial host. What do I need to do to be free of you?”
He tented manicured fingers before him, contemplating a moment. “I understand you have child.”
His insinuation brought bile to burn in her throat. Swallowing it down the way she never could his question, Amber snarled, “She’s not yours! You share nothing with her, not DNA and not a name, and for that, I’m forever grateful.”
“Whose name does she have? The one you’ve made up to hide behind, or the one you were hoping to worm your way into with that Terriot fool? Pity that won’t be working out for you.”
Fury damned up her tears, giving her the strength to state plainly, “What we call ourselves is none of your concern. She’s my daughter. She belongs to me. Tell me what you want so I can get back to her.”
“Where’s your father?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen or heard from him since he broke my child’s arm. If I knew where he was, I’d give him to you on a platter.”
A laugh. “Pretty much what your brother told me. And your dear mother?”
“She was smart enough to run far and hide well. I haven’t heard from her, either.”
“So, it’s just you, all alone.”
Her chin tipped up rebelliously. “No.”
His smile slithered across his face. “You’re wrong.
Rico! Her chest jerked, throat clutching tight around a truth she couldn’t bear to swallow. Think of Evie. Think of Evie!
Pitching her voice low and flat, she stated, “Then I have no reason not to bargain for me and my child.”
“Bargain? You’re in no position to make deals, girl.”
“I have what you want, what you’ve always wanted. That one thing my father was able to hold over your head.”
Cold eyes narrowed as the line of his lips turned up in a thin smile. “You are in no position to blackmail me, either. Your brother is holding your daughter, waiting my word.”
“He’d never harm her. Never.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t. That’s why both will have to go. Now, you little bitch, give me what I want!” The genial pose fell away as he rose to lean aggressively over his desk.
“I wouldn’t give it to you then, and I won’t give it to you now, you bastard. Not for nothing.”
He dropped back into his chair with a booming laugh. “Dad would be so proud. His precious little girl still breaking balls to get away.”
She didn’t wince. “This time I won’t be hiding in poverty. We want to live well off your good fortune. We deserve that after suffering for your and my father’s greed.” When she reached into her oversized bag, his hand darted to a side desk drawer, pausing when she withdrew the chewed-up Bible. “My mother gave me this just before she disappeared. Generations old, she told me, and what it held would provide for generations more.” She tossed, and it landed on the desk with a heavy thud.
Brady regarded the ragged New Testament complete with Colin Terriot’s teeth marks in the spine. “If you’re hoping I’ll get religion, I hate to be the bearer of bad news.”
“I know what your religion is. Power. That’s what that book holds. Along with a flash drive containing a list of everyone my father blackmailed or hoped to. That was his retirement plan, and now it’ll be mine.”
Brady picked up the book as if fearing it might burn him. His brows knit as he studied the fang marks, then he opened the cover, leafing through thin pages until he came to the hidey hole cut into the book’s center, safely out of reach of Colin’s bite. He shook out the ancient drive, examining it with a frown.
“What’s to stop me from breaking it in half?”
Amber laughed. “The possibility that it contains more secrets than just your own.”
“He had information on me?” He sounded almost hurt. “And you’ve seen it?” Again, the Ginzu stare.
“It’s passworded. I don’t know what the password is.”
He gave the drive a thoughtful toss in his palm. “So, you’ve never seen what’s on it.”
“No. I only heard him brag to Auguste about how they were going to use it to pad their future, siphoning of the rich and influential.”
“So why didn’t your brother bring this to me and use it himself?”
It was Amber’s turn to mock, “Because he didn’t know I had it, or he would have squandered it years ago and gotten himself killed.” She shrugged philosophically. “Now, that’s a moot point.”
He studied her for a long moment, hatred and lust warring but finally losing out to avarice. “You know I’m not just going to take your word that this contains anything of value.”
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t assume you would.”
“Then you won’t mind remaining my guest until I know for sure.”
Mind? Remaining in the home of the monster who’d ripped her innocence from her? But being his guest kept her and her family safe for that much longer. For them, she’d endure. And when her mother’s gift paid off with their freedom, they would run far and fast and be free of their father’s dark legacy. She’d provide Evangeline with the normal teen years she herself never knew, gift Augie with an opportunity to build something honest and decent of his own, once she’d decided to forgive him . . . if that was possible. And she would try to hang onto the joy of their happiness while living the rest of her own life alone.
But first, to stay alive.
* * * * *
The bitch! Making deals with him after what she’d done! He placed a hand on his crotch as if feeling that excruciating pain even now.
Brady stormed down the hallways of his palatial home, flash drive clenched in his fist. Oh, the satisfaction of telling her that her precious family and her lover were dead, and after the delicious joy of taking in her shock, he’d take everything else he’d been dreaming of since that day she’d nearly ended all of his. And he’d take his own sweet, savage time in doing it.
He found the unlikely pair carrying on in the kitchen where his daughter obviously spent too much time. She was at the island cooktop stirring up something undeniably tasty from the way it teased the nose while her suitor sat on a high stool opposite. He immediately straightened with a respectful murmur while Ophelia scowled at the interruption.
“Chris, have you got a minute?”
“Of course, sir.” He instantly bounded to his feet, all long, lean legs and floppy hair, as eager to please as a puppy.
“No, Dad, he does not,” Phe interrupted, tapping the spoon sharply against the side of the pan in irritation. “He’s here visiting me, not sucking up to you.”
Before Brady could address her rudeness, her handsome young friend stepped between them with an ingratiating smile. “We were just talking. Is there something I can do for you, sir?”
A whip-smart, polite fellow, nothing like the girl’s usual sort of sycophants using her to get close to him.
“Christopher!”
“I’ll be right back. Don’t let anything catch fire while I’m gone.” His easy smile charmed her from her temper, and that in itself made Brady like the kid, as Kip winked at her. “And keep an eye on the food, too.”
She melted like a pat of butter.
He followed Brady out into the hall and waited at a flattering attention to hear him out. Few young men had manners anymore.
“Phe tells me you’re a whiz at computers.”
Hot color rose in his lean cheeks. “I didn’t ask her to speak to you, sir. I apologize for her taking up your time on my behalf. I can speak for myself.”
“I’m sure you can, but for a moment, can you just listen.”
A quick downward cant of the eyes. “Of course, sir.”
Then that bright, intelligent stare fixed on Brady’s as he waited patiently. That, too, he often found in short supply.
“Was she boasting, or are you good at electronics?”
“I’m extremely good at anything with circuits or memory and everything in between.”
Not spoken in boast but as fact. He liked that, too. Men should never be afraid to state their own worth.
He opened his hand, displaying the flash drive.
“Whoa! That’s an antique.”
“Careful,” Brady chastened to earn a quick flash of Kip’s smile. “Can you find out what’s on it?”
“May I see it?” Christopher took it when offered and gave it a thorough examination. “It’s not damaged. I don’t see why not.”
“I don’t have a password,” he admitted, holding his breath until the young man shrugged.
“Shouldn’t be a problem. I can break into just about anything given time.”
“Time’s on short supply here.”
“I’d like to try, sir, if you’d allow me.”
The catch. “The information might be highly confidential.”
“I understand. I’ll just get it open, then the contents are all yours.”
“We’ve got a computer room down the hall.”
He hesitated then, glancing back toward the kitchen. And Brady liked that, too. It showed character.
“The material’s time sensitive,” Brady stated, letting the boy make up his own mind about what was important. And he chose wisely.
“Give me minute with your daughter to make my apologies.”
“She may not accept them.”
The young man shrugged off his warning with another grin. “Yes, she will.”
And true to his word, he returned after a short discussion that involved no breaking of dishes to say, “Let’s get started.”
* * * * *
Grim weather settled in over the city like an oppressive dark cloak, heavy, hot for the time of year, and as pleasant as a wet dog in a car with the windows up. Rico sat in the front seat of his brother’s baby, Babineau in back, as the three of them studied Brady’s well-armed camp.
“This guy has some serious trust issues,” Colin muttered, pointing out the guards changing shifts with a military precision back by the well-lit, multi-car garage.
“Do we know for sure she’s in there?” Alain asked.
“She’s in there.”
No one doubted Rico’s quiet claim.
“It’s likely they have as many boots on the ground inside. We’re not going to be able to walk right in.”
Babineau’s somber claim was followed by a sudden blast of rain as the passenger door opened.
“Hi, guys. Nasty night.”
All jumped at once as Turow Terriot muscled his way into the backseat beside a startled Babineau.
“Row, what the hell are you doing here?” Colin demanded, the first to overcome his surprise.
“My job. Keeping an eye on the kid. Cale had me stay behind in case he got in over his head.”
Rico stared in disbelief over the seat, anger beginning to percolate. “Where were you when I almost lost mine?”
“You and Col were supposed to look out for each other. Why?” He looked between the two of them. “What did I miss?”
“My funeral!”
“You look pretty healthy to me. At least until you try to bust in there. Place is a fortress.”
Before Rico could tear into him, Colin placed a staying hand on his arm, a wry smile beginning to spread. “What do you know that we don’t?”
The impassive tracker waggled his brows. “I know a way in.”
* * * * *
After a tortuous hour seated in Brady’s office, she was approached by a suited, well-armed man wearing an earpiece who said simply, “Please come with me.”
He ushered her through the maze of hallways to a small yet elegant guest bedroom with a very solid lock on the outside of the door. It clicked into place behind her escort as he left.
Amber took in her accommodations hoping for a way to escape, but the grillwork on the window wasn’t ornamental nor was there a phone. It offered a single bed, half bath, and a loveseat with a light meal on expensive china set out on the coffee table. She sat and ate with a single-minded fervor, needing to stay strong and alert and ready for possible rescue.
But who would come for her? Her brother had sold her into this untenable situation.
They were safe for the moment, a moment she hoped would be long enough to provide a way out. Brady, like her father, would be looking for an opportunity to screw her over, his placating lies buying him time to formulate a suitable and probably long dreamed of revenge for emasculating him all those years ago. A man didn’t get over that kind of personal insult. His hatred of her had to be equal to or greater than her terror at again being helpless within his grip. But she still held the upper hand, if she could hang to her nerve long enough to play it.
She didn’t have to wait long.
The door burst open, startling her into a defensive pose. An enraged Brady shoved his man aside to close himself in the room with her, a room suddenly a hundred times smaller and less cozy. Though fright leapt in her chest, Amber forced her posture to relax as she regarded him, smile remote and taunting.
“I see you got beyond the password issue.”
“You think this is a game?” he raged, big, brutal hands working at his sides as if eager for the feel of her neck between them. “The information is coded.”
“And without that code, useless to you. Do you think I’m stupid? With access to that information, you’d murder me in a minute. You’ll get the code when my family is out of your reach.”
Features mottled with fury, he took a threatening step toward her. “I’ll choke it out of you first.”
Without hesitation, Amber smashed the delicate plate on the lip of the table, brandishing the sharp fragment like a blade. He laughed at her defiant gesture, advancing another fierce stride before drawing up in disbelief when she pressed the jagged edge to the rapidly pulsing artery in her throat.
“I’ll die before I feel your hands on me again.” Bright crimson welled to emphasize her determination. “You’d never reach me in time, and all those lovely opportunities for blackmail millions will be gone.”
The stalemate stretched out into a quivering tension. Finally, Brady sneered. “You’d take your life and leave your daughter helpless?”
Amber’s glare darkened with ferocious conviction. “If there’s no way to protect her from the life you’d force on her, I’d rather die here to spite you than watch her live it.”
Impressed as much as infuriated by her vitriol, Brady reassessed, always the calculating businessman. He backed down with a narrow smile.
“I have someone working on the code. He’s quite brilliant, so don’t get too smug and comfortable. I’d rather pay him than you. You, I have other plans for.”
Her show of teeth was pure bravado. “Good luck with that.”
He slammed out of the room. As the lock clicked into place, Amber’s starch dissolved into fitful shivering. She’d won time but little else. If he truly had someone who could break the code, her hell on earth was just beginning.
* * * * *
After what could have been minutes or hours, debilitating fear warping her judgment, the sound of the door lock brought Amber to combative alertness on the couch. Her hand curled about the shard in readiness. But instead of Brady, a youthful face peered in.
“Ms. James?” He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Do you remember me?”
She didn’t remember the dark hair, but the intense readiness was all Terriot. “You’re Rico’s younger brother.” Her relief gusted audibly.
“Yes, ma’am. The baby of the family. Unless you’re settled in real comfortable here, come with me, quick and quiet.”
Amber leapt up to join him at the door. “How did you get in?” she whispered as he checked the hall.
“I’ve been in for some time. Shhh. Stay close and hurry before Rico comes charging in and ruins everything.”
Rico’s alive! He’s here!
Anticipation lighting up every nerve ending, Amber trotted in the lanky prince’s shadow, sticking tight, her fingers gripping the back of his shirt as her lifeline.
The feel of muggy night air on her face was as much a surprise as another tall figure looming up in the darkness just outside the side door. Her savior made quick introductions.
“Our brother, Turow. He’ll take you the rest of the way.”
Amber hugged her young rescuer, tight. “Thank you. Be careful. You don’t know what he is.”
“Yes, I do,” he vowed as he slipped back inside and shut the door.
“Ma’am,” Turow Terriot murmured with a calm efficiency, “not a sound.”
When she nodded, he gripped her elbow, leading her at a fast jog through the gloom. Heart pounding, breath chugging, she barely felt the graze of bamboo shoots against her cheek, her focus on the high fence ahead, nearly hidden in the shadow of an ancient oak. Finger to his lips, Turow stepped away from her and with a seemingly effortless jump, balanced between the spearlike fleur de lis.
As she reached for his hand, another gripped her arm from behind, jerking her around to face two of Brady’s black-garbed guards. One raised his weapon to take aim at the crouching Terriot prince while the other began dragging her, struggling in desperate silence, back toward her prison.
A sudden groan pulled her attention back to the armed man, now lying sprawled and motionless in the grass. Before her captor could react, a large hand reached from the darkness behind him, gripping his face to halt any outcry as a brutal twist broke his neck. Released, Amber stumbled back as the dead man fell, revealing Rico Terriot behind him.
“Go!”
His fierce whisper set her in motion, jogging the last few steps to the fence where Turow caught her upstretched hands to hoist her up and over, leaping down lightly beside her onto the age-buckled sidewalk. Rico landed soundless beside them, lagging slightly behind to watch for possible pursuit as Turow rushed her across the wide avenue, staying out of the pools of light, racing toward the low silhouette of a vehicle a block away. The passenger door opened. A familiar figure pushed the front seat forward so she could scramble into the back. There was no time for exchange of words or touch as she settled into the darkness while the two brothers embraced and bumped brows.
“Just couldn’t wait here, could you?” Turow chastised quietly.
“Not my style.” A flash of Rico’s smile then his soft vow. “I owe you.”
“No problem.”
“Keep the little guy safe,” Colin whispered to Turow with a wave as Rico climbed in front and quietly shut the door. Turow faded back into the shadows to silently disappear.
Coming apart at the jagged seams, Amber choked out, “Evie?”
“We’re taking you to her.” That promise from Oscar’s father who shared the backseat and, unbeknownst to him, a child with her.
“Auguste?”
Rico’s quiet answer from the front. He didn’t turn around. “He didn’t make it.”
Both relieved and devastated, Amber James let go and sobbed.