Hitman's Captive: A Bad Boy Romance (24 page)

Chapter Eighteen

Alessa

“…and she’s
still
not
said anything!” The furious voice made me pause, looking ahead to the slightly
ajar door of my father’s office.

I hadn’t thought anyone
was still up. It was past midnight, and I was only prowling the halls because I
couldn’t sleep - hoping the walking would cure some of the restlessness I
hadn’t been able to shake since I got home.

“It’s only been two days,
and who knows what he did to her...” My father’s voice was lower, calm as
always, and I realized with a start they were talking about
me
.

“Still fucking unhelpful.
The Russians already think we’re behind Viktor’s death, and now she turns up -
not a mark on her, no information we can use or share with them. They’re not
going to look past
their
boss dying and our daughter returning
unharmed.” I crept closer as my uncle spoke, his anger obvious, and my heart
sped up at the conversation.

It was the first thing
that had cracked through the disinterest that had overtaken me since I’d
returned. I knew I should be glad to be back, but for some reason all I could think
about were those fleeting times with Leo - the pool and the sun and the sex. As
if it had been some god-damned holiday.

I’d kept myself blank and
somewhat numb to the questions and comments so far, giving limited or no
answers while I waited for the moment when all this would feel
right
again.
When I’d slot back into everyone’s expectations and the way I’d lived before.

The best part of it all
had been seeing my sisters again - they’d rushed up to hug me and I’d held them
both tight for a long time, ignoring a lot of their chatter as always and
finding out everything they’d been up to while I’d been gone. They hadn’t been
told the full story, and I didn’t enlighten them, letting them think I’d just
gone away to stay with a relative.

But everyone seemed to be
different. My father’s grim countenance was somehow less intimidating, my
brother seemed too ridiculous in his usual self-importance and arrogance, and
my sisters were more naive than when I’d left them. It took a while before I
realized that none of them had changed at all. I had.

It seemed stupid that two
weeks could do that, even if they were crazy and intense, but they had. I
wasn’t the same person who’d been kidnapped and taken from these people. And I
didn’t know where that left me.

I knew I’d adjust back
eventually - I still knew what was expected of me, I understood my place here.
And I’d thought maybe they’d give me a little breathing room to slip back into
it. Hopefully, that would be enough.

“…such a clusterfuck - the
whole thing.” My uncle was still ranting ahead of me, and I couldn’t bring
myself to step away and leave them to their private conversation. My father
might be the controlled, calculating one of the pair, but - within the family,
at least - there was no doubting that my uncle’s ruthlessness dominated. “His
death was meant to cut the
bratva
off from the allies Viktor brought to
the table - now these loose ends have those sons of bitches riled up and
searching everywhere for his killer. What the hell were we thinking, hiring an
unknown hitman through an untrustworthy source?”

My idle interest
sharpened to a point that was almost painful as I froze by the door.

What?!

“You know exactly why we
used intermediaries. We couldn’t let anyone see our involvement.” My father’s
tone was still neutral, as if this revelation didn’t change
everything.

“But the fucking bastard
was supposed to give us the hitman’s identity - not just disappear without a
trace!” I could almost hear the grinding of my uncle’s teeth.

“Killing Manny was a
mistake, it told O’Connor we were taking out anyone connected to the hit,
spooked him too early—”

“We had to do that, Tony,
he
knew
we were the source of his intel and if anyone had gotten to
him—”

“Yes, Vincent. I know.
We’ve been over this, remember? Nothing has changed.” I finally heard a hint of
exasperation from my father, as if this was an old argument.

“
Nothing has changed?!
Your fucking daughter came back alive, that’s what fucking changed!”
My
uncle’s voice was as vehement as he could make it without shouting, and I heard
the stomp of his heavy boots as he started pacing the room. I winced and
glanced around, wondering whether he was going to wake anyone else, but
everywhere around me was dark, and there was no other hint of a disturbance.

I was leaning against the
wall for support now, my heart in my throat and part of me wanting to run away
- to stop myself from hearing whatever they were going to say next. I could
barely believe this much, and anything else—

“Would’ve been better if
she’d fucking died with him. What kind of fucking useless hitman doesn’t kill a
witness? If she’d died, the
bratva
truly wouldn’t have suspected…”

The blood in my ears
drowned out whatever else he was muttering about as everything I’d ever known
and valued suddenly crashed down around me.

No, no, no, no…

I bit my lip to keep from
moaning it out loud, my forehead slamming into where my arm held me up against
the wall.

“Maybe, Vincent, but you
can’t expect me to regret that my daughter is alive. She can still be useful—”

I pulled myself back with
a vicious jerk, too numb to even care about being silent. They were probably
too lost in their world of murder and pain and betrayal to notice anyway. I
couldn’t listen to this anymore.

I fled as silently as I
could, running all the way back to my room and closing the door before throwing
myself down on the bed, my heart hammering in my chest. I felt suddenly
claustrophobic and in danger in a way I hadn’t felt since that horrible night
in the motel. This was my
home,
this old familiar room had been mine for
years
. And now I was terrified of being here.

I hugged myself, wanting
nothing more than to have Leo sweep me up in his arms as he had that night,
promising to keep me safe and make everything okay again. They might be stupid,
childish fantasies, but I’d believed him the way I’d never believed anyone else
in my life. He’d kept his word, the whole way through.

Exactly as he’d said he
would.

My uncle’s damning words
replayed again and again in my head, my father’s quickly following them. I’d
been raised on duty and obedience all my life - taught that, for us, there was
nothing more important than family. It had made me proud, to be part of
something where we all looked out for each other - our family against the world
and whatever else life might throw at us.

Now all of that was
stripped away and revealed for the ugly truth it was.

It wasn’t
our lives
for family.
It was
my life for their ambitions.
The idea sickened
me. They were my
family.
They were supposed to care, to protect, to
guide.

For one long moment, I
lay there grieving - for the family I’d thought existed, and the life I’d
thought I had. My blood felt like ice in my veins, frozen in disbelief and
sudden terror.

And then, quick on its
heels, anger bloomed to take its place.

How dare they?! How could
they throw my life away like that?!

I trembled with the
fierce heat that overtook me, fighting the urge to yell and scream and throw
things around the room. Anything to get rid of this sudden, unrelenting energy.

It was hard to lie there,
still and silent as if I were sleeping peacefully - as if I was the obedient
daughter they thought I was - while my mind raced and I tried to work out what
the hell this meant.

I don’t know how long my
wretched emotions flipped between disbelief to fear to anger and back again,
before I finally thought I’d felt everything I could feel.

Most of all, I just
wanted Leo. Tears pricked my eyes and I cursed myself for the longing that
filled me. The way his arms had wrapped around me, the way he’d made me feel
like I could do anything, the way he’d listened to my silly fantasies and
dreams…

That was enough for me to
finally start thinking again. Maybe this revelation destroyed everything my life
had been - but that meant what was left, was
mine
.

The thought was
terrifying and utterly intoxicating. I had no reason to live up to my father’s
expectations anymore - I could create whatever kind of life I wanted.

Even if what I wanted was
a cocky, infuriating hitman.

A shiver of pleasure
spread through me at the idea. I didn’t know how it was going to work yet, but
I was going to take the life he’d just begun to show me. Fear and anger gave
way to a cold, hard determination.

Whatever happened, one thing
was certain: I couldn’t stay here. Not one moment longer.

* 
*  *

I crept back along the
dark, empty corridors of the house, terrified of seeing anyone in a way that I
hadn’t even considered several hours ago. But now it truly was late enough for
everywhere to be deserted.

I steeled myself as I
approached my father’s office, but there was no sound or light from inside -
the late-night conversation had obviously finished.

Part of me wanted to
start running right now and not stop - right back to that house with its
idyllic pool and simple village. But I doubted Leo would still be there, and I
imagined my attempt to track him down would yield about the same amount of
success as everyone else’s had - which was to say, none at all.

And after hearing everything
they’d done, I couldn’t just run back to Leo with nothing. He’d been framed and
used by my family almost as badly as I had. Sure, he was a hitman and maybe it
was part of the job, but I wanted to get him the missing information he’d
needed. It felt crazy now to think that instead of being my kidnapper and
almost murderer, what he’d done had saved me from my uncle’s schemes.

After all, ‘what fucking
useless hitman doesn’t kill a witness’?

So I tried the door to my
father’s office, and to my relief found it open. It wasn’t surprising - he
didn’t make a habit of doing business here, and the office was off-limits to
the women in the family. Something that none of us had ever thought to question
or disobey, so it didn’t exactly need a lock.

I slipped as quietly as I
could across the floor, grateful the full moon from outside was shining
directly into the room and providing enough light to make out the ghostly
shadows of the furniture. I didn’t want to risk turning on the main light,
but…as I reached the desk, I picked up the lamp he used there, hoping to angle
it to let me read whatever I found.

My blood pulsed in my
ears, but I ignored it as I started carefully looking through the desk, trying
to find
something
that might link them to this. I couldn’t quite believe
they’d be stupid enough to have evidence lying around, but then…they were
stupid enough to talk about it openly this evening. My uncle had always been
rash and impetuous like that, and he’d always been safe here - there was no
reason for him to think otherwise now.

The top of the desk only
had a few papers on it - my father’s fastidious nature keeping it tidy - and it
was clearly a couple of ledgers and reports from his more legitimate
businesses. I frowned in irritation, then gently tried the desk drawers.

One simply held
stationary and writing implements, laid out in an orderly fashion that I knew
better than to touch. My hopes were slipping away from me as I opened the next
one - and found a stack of papers that could be my answer.

Carefully, I placed them
on the desk and started looking through, making sure I maintained the order so
that no one noticed my intrusion. But there was nothing there about Viktor, or
anything that implicated them in any crime.

C’mon!

I was growing more scared
of being caught here in this room rifling through my father’s papers with every
passing moment, and I wasn’t finding anything. Disappointed, I finished looking
through the stack and returned it exactly as I’d found it. My heart was sinking
in my chest - despite my best intentions, I might not be able to find anything
useful for Leo. My father was too careful.

I tried the last drawer
with a quick tug - only to find it locked. My pulse sped up with simultaneous
hope and disappointment, and I bit the inside of my cheek in thought. I didn’t
have time to go looking for a key, and it could be with my father for all I
knew. It wasn’t long before I’d need to get out of here.

I glanced around the room
hurriedly, the desk offering no joy - of course, why lock a drawer if you’re
going to leave the key on the desk - and the interior of his office was largely
unfamiliar to me. Then my gaze caught on his long coat hanging on the rack to
the side of the door, and I wondered…would he have?

Not stopping to think a
moment more, I hurried over to it and carefully started going through his
pockets, feeling for anything resembling a small, desk drawer key. My heart
fell again as I didn’t find anything loose, but my fingers caught on his
wallet. I shrugged and pulled it out, flipping through it - plenty of odd
change, but no key.