The Price of Winning: London Calling Book Four (22 page)

BOOK: The Price of Winning: London Calling Book Four
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In her absence all he could think about were her parting words. He’d barely been able to focus this evening, until his hatred for Petrov burned through the pain of her departure.

She’d looked at him like he was a stranger. And she’d been frightened of him, scared when he stood with his arms braced on either side of her.

He’d gripped the armrests to keep from hauling her into his arms. She’d sat there, lovely and fragile and beautiful, breaking his heart.
 

She’d begged. Pleaded with him.

And when he brought out the gun, she’d nearly fainted from horror.
 

He cursed again and took a long swallow of water. For once in his life he wished it were something stronger. How could he have been so colossally insensitive? Years before, a stalker had pulled a gun and fired on her, nearly killing her father.

And less than six months ago, another had done the same, but with fatal effect.

Sebastian kicked himself for the thousandth time. For showing Madeleine the gun and for buying it in the first place. After she left he handed it over to the head of his security team, sickened with himself.

Exactly when had he lost sight of the things he believed in?
 

The scene with Madeleine had done more than tear his heart out. It made him examine himself for the first time in years.
 

He plopped down on a garden bench. The latent heat from the sun still warmed the stone. It felt good on his chilled limbs, and Sebastian fully relaxed for the first time in days.

He bent over, picking at a piece of grass. He shredded the blade then tossed it down in favor of another. He repeated the process until the moon climbed high overhead.

It was an old habit, one he’d played with Poppy so many years ago in this very spot.
 

His chest tightened, and he absently rubbed the spot over his heart. It was such an old wound, but one that never really eased. He’d go days, sometimes weeks, without remembering. Then something would trigger him, and all he could see was little Poppy in a pretty white dress, lying lifeless in her casket.
 

And the rage would come.

He wiped the sweat from his brow with his shirtsleeve. His throat hurt from the grief tearing at him to get out.
 

The choice was never between me and Poppy.

Madeleine’s words echoed in his brain, as distinct as they would be if she sat beside him in the garden. Sebastian knuckled his eyes, more tired than he could ever remember being.
 

He looked around, remembering the night they’d spent out here under the stars. For weeks after she first arrived, she’d badgered him to have breakfast with her out here, at a small table tucked near the house.
 

He never had. He didn’t tell her the space was too reminiscent of Poppy, even after all these years. And it hurt to remember.

She’d been his best friend, his only companion in an otherwise lonely childhood. And after Poppy he’d had trouble forming close friendships.

It was over twenty-five years ago. It boggled his mind to think of all the years without her, especially considering he’d only known her four years when they were taken. But as children it had been a lifetime. They’d laughed and played and been inseparable.
 

But ultimately they
were
separated. Poppy lost her life, and he’d been saved for no better reason than social class. Even though his parents had doubled the ransom to include Poppy, the kidnappers hadn’t honored the deal.

Sebastian was deemed valuable. And Poppy was disposable.
 

He dropped his head into his hands.
 

The choice was never between me and Poppy.

The winds shifted, bringing rose petals swirling around his feet. He looked up. Clouds covered the moon, and the night smelled like rain. He realized he had no wish to go inside.
 

He could admit that he’d come home tonight, to the Manor, because he wanted to find Madeleine waiting for him like she had been for weeks now, while he worked later and later, trying to set up his plan. Because in his heart he had hoped it would bring him some semblance of peace.

None of the work he did with Angeline brought him peace. Satisfaction, yes.

But never peace.

But the months with Madeleine had. He could see it now, clear as day. She’d snuck under his guard, making him laugh and feel again.
 

He loved her.
 

And he’d sent her away. Telling her it was for her own good.
 

How long had he shunned the light in favor of the dark?
 

Poppy, dear, sweet Poppy, had been vibrant and lively. She’d chattered like a magpie, telling made-up stories while ordering him to climb trees with her and push her higher on the swing set.
 

And yet it had been years since he allowed himself to remember those things. Instead, he’d reduced her memory to her death and the violent criminals who’d caused it.

Even now, thinking of the kidnappers brought a thirst for vengeance that burned black in Sebastian’s mind, destroying all the light around it. Over the years he’d stoked his rage, thinking it burned the distractions away, making him stronger and more focused.

Good God, he’d been lying to himself for decades.

In his righteousness, he’d forgotten who he was. Madeleine had been right.
 

This wasn’t him.

 
It’s about the future over the past. The light over darkness.

He had to put an end to all this, right now. He would call one of his connections at Interpol and give them all the information he had. Then he would walk away from it, as Madeleine had asked.
 

He and Angeline could find other ways to make a difference. Rather than devoting their energy to predators and traffickers, they could help victims instead.
 

Yes.

He would fix things with Madeleine. The kind of love they shared couldn’t be destroyed in one day, no matter how truly awful that day was. They had weathered storms before; they would make it through this one.

He stood, stretching his arms overhead as the sky started to rumble. He felt renewed, like he’d been released from a prison of his own making.
 

He walked to door and looked back on the gardens. He felt none of the old sadness. He remembered his best friend with joy in her eyes as she’d picked roses. And he thought of Madeleine, hair splayed all around him as she’d leaned on his chest, telling him she loved him.

He smiled, content. A streak of lightning then a clap of thunder shook the sky, its sound reverberating through him.

So much so, he very nearly missed the chirping sound coming from his security system.

There was a breach.

CHAPTER EIGHT

S
EBASTIAN
SLID
HIS
keycard across the infrared scanner at the carriage house, slightly out of breath. His chief security officer for the estate remained at the Manor, finishing a detailed walkthrough to ensure the house was secure.

Other members of the team were scouting the grounds, making certain every inch of the property was safe. Meanwhile, Sebastian would start reviewing closed circuit footage from cameras stationed along the gates.

The door clicked and he pushed it open. The carriage house was set on the far border of the property, away from any of the main access points. It was still within the security gates but contained a bump-out section that abutted the street directly. Many of the staff used it as their employee entrance and exit, and all deliveries were brought to its door.

Sebastian settled himself in front of the console that held an array of monitors. One was occupied with current feeds for four different locations. Periodically, the locations would switch, offering staff the opportunity to see various locations within short periods of time. Right now there didn’t appear to be anyone outside, not even the odd pedestrian on the sidewalk.

He booted up another monitor and began the tedious work of replaying the last hour or so of footage. It would take a while since the gates contained twelve cameras in total. He settled back, calming his nerves.

He was keyed up from hosting the Russians. Normally, a signal from his alarm system wouldn’t cause the sort of exaggerated reaction as tonight. It was very sensitive. Rabbits and squirrels were known triggers, especially during this time of year.

Logically, he expected the culprit to be four-legged and sporting fur. But his gut whispered otherwise.

He wouldn’t put it past one of his guests to come looking for him. They wouldn’t have any idea he was staying in-house at the club, as he’d never indicated so. And it wasn’t hard to find Payne Manor.

So he reviewed the recording loops, looking for any sign of his new associates. He’d just clicked up the viewing speed when someone rang the doorbell. Sebastian swiveled in his chair, checking the outdoor feed to see who was there.

He squinted.
Was that Dominic Martin?

The other man raised his face, staring into the camera mounted high above the door. He smirked, laying his finger back on the bell.
 

The non-stop, incessant buzzing had Sebastian springing out of his chair. He yanked the door open, glaring.
 

Martin stood outside, finger still pressed on the bell. An older gentleman in black pants and a white shirt accompanied him.

Dominic displayed a wide grin. “Good evening, Payne.” He checked his watch. “Or should I say morning?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Sebastian stood in the doorway, his arms braced against the opening.
 

Dominic tilted his head toward the man next to him. In a loud stage whisper, he said, “See Frank? I told you.” He lifted his chin at Sebastian. “Rude bugger.”

Sebastian was in no mood for Martin’s warped idea of humor. “I’m busy.” He started to close the door.
 

Dominic slapped his hand flat against the wood. “Don’t you want to know about the guy we found lurking outside your little palace here?”

Sebastian let the door fall open. “You saw him?”

Dominic gestured toward the older man beside him. “This is Frank, my driver.” He waved toward Sebastian. “Frank, this is Sebastian Payne. He’s the asshole that’s going to make us stand outside while we explain what we did for him.”

Irritably, Sebastian stood back to allow them inside. He stuck his hand out to Frank. “It’s nice to meet you.” They shook hands. “I’m sorry you have to work for a bastard like Martin.” He heard Dominic chuckle. “I’ve been considering a driver. Let me know if you’d prefer a change of scene.”

Frank cackled. “You two are a pair. More alike than different.” He clapped Dominic on the back. “Thank you, but I quite like this one. We make a good team, right Nicky?”

Sebastian’s brow shot up. Was he the only one unaffected by Martin’s charm?

The smirk was back. “Damn right, Frankie. Now, shall we get to the reason we’re here?”

Sebastian led them to a sitting room off to the side from all the security equipment. Frank took the settee in the middle, while Sebastian and Dominic settled into armchairs that sat at right angles on each side, facing each other.
 

Sebastian thrust his palms out and upward. “Okay. Here we are. Can you get to it? As I said, I’m busy.”

Dominic’s brows shot up in feigned innocence. “Aren’t you going to offer us tea?”
 

Sebastian gritted his teeth. “Piss off, Martin. I don’t have time for this.” He moved to stand.

“All right, don’t get so huffy.” He side-eyed Frank. “Honestly, I have no idea what Moneypenny sees in him.” He leaned back as far as the solid wood chair would allow, crossing one foot over his knee. He looked straight at Sebastian. “We’re here to look out for your sorry ass. To make sure you don’t get yourself killed.”

Sebastian’s mouth opened then closed again. Something was going on here. He narrowed his eyes. “You’re supposed to be in Austria.”
 

Dominic shrugged, one hand laid flat against his breastbone. “I know. Trust me, it would be preferable. But when Angeline asks for something, I do it. And she asked me to help provide backup for you until your little ill-advised soirée with the Russians has ended.”

Sebastian stared, incredulous. “So Angeline is in town as well?” Had no one done as he’d asked?

“Mmhm. For some reason she likes you. And since I like her, I go along with her requests.” Dominic was flippant, casually looking around the sitting room while rubbing his hand along the carved wood arm of his chair. “Elizabethan, yes?” He nodded at the furnishings, clearly not expecting Sebastian to answer. “I like this place, don’t you, Frankie?”

Frank nodded, clearly biting the inside of his cheek.
 

Dominic straightened, and any semblance of lazy indifference fell away. He clasped his hands behind his head, a grim twist to his mouth. “Angeline caught on to you. For future reference, she’s pretty tough to fool.” He picked at the frayed hem of his jeans. “The nickel version is that she asked me to come back here with her, to make sure you had adequate backup since it was too late to call the whole thing off. I agreed. Natalie and Madeleine were supposed to go to Austria, to stay safely away.”

BOOK: The Price of Winning: London Calling Book Four
6.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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