Page 17 of Vienna Bargain

When the skids touched down on a dock that had been cleared for them—technically a helicopter shouldn’t land here but docks made acceptable helipads—Alexander removed his headphones, hanging them on the hook behind his seat.

One of his new bodyguards—an American named Finn Lambert—opened the door and jumped out.

Jakob Morales, who spoke German with a Spanish accent and had dark hair and a medium skin tone that would allow him to blend in to almost any of the Mediterranean and Middle Eastern ethnicities, was next out. Jakob closed the door once he’d exited, sealing out the deafening sound of the blades.

Ruslan Ivanovych remained inside the chopper with them. Ruslan was the only member of the original five candidates Alexander had actively asked to be part of the team. Originally from the Ukraine, he spoke fluent Ukranian and Russian. Alexander’s Russian was conversational at best, and if there were any problems, having a Ukranian and Russian speaker might prove useful in a region where most people were bi- or tri-lingual with Romanian, Russian, and Ukranian the primary languages.

All three men also spoke at least some German, but also English—a fact he hadn’t told Alena. Finn quite obviously spoke English, but so far they’d been using German. If Alena didn’t know Jakob or Ruslan could understand her, she might slip up and say something in front of them that might prove useful.

Not that he intended for her to spend much time around them. Once they reached the villa, she was his.

Alexander watched through the window as Finn scanned the area while Jakob dashed for the long, low building nearest them. Jakob checked the exterior, opened the door and barked something at whomever was inside, then circled the building.

Finally he raised his hand and motioned with three fingers.

Finn opened the door, the sound of the rotor blades painfully loud, and motioned that it was safe for Alexander to exit.

He hopped out, holding his tie down as it flapped in the downdraft. The helicopter couldn’t remain—so the pilot had kept the engine on. As soon they were all out, it would take off once more.

Finn reached in and offered his hand to Alena. She stepped gracefully down, stray hairs which had escaped her bun whipping around her head and face. Alexander watched as she smiled at Finn. The American didn’t react, and released her hand as soon as it was possible.

Would Finn try to rescue his fellow countrywoman, if she told him she’d been coerced? It would be easy for her to paint a picture with herself as the victim, a helpless woman in need of rescue.

Ruslan hopped out, then quickly pulled their luggage out of storage. Finn escorted them to Jakob, then ran back to help Ruslan with the bags.

“The administrators know you’re here.” Jakob motioned to the battered looking door. A small plaque above it said “Office” in five different languages.

“Wait here.” Alexander commanded them.

Alena stiffened at the terse command. He planned to give her a lot of those once they reached the villa.

Her response was a polite smile.

Over the course of the day’s travels he’d learned what that smile meant—“Fuck you, you’re an asshole.”

He returned the smile with one of his own. He’d never tried to make a smile express a “fuck you” sentiment, so he was pretty sure it came out as a sneer, not a smile.

He had time to practice.

Two weeks, six and a half days to be precise. Yesterday had been busy—full of betrayal, tension, and confrontations. After a blessedly restful sleep, he and his bodyguards and captive had left for the airport early this morning, thirty-two hours after he’d seen her sneak out of her room.

Turning his back to Alena, Alexander walked into the building where the port facility director was waiting for him. He and the shift manager had the facility records laid out in neat stacks on a counter. Quarter-to-date reports, loss statements, and a brief memo which listed the names of three workers who had recently purchased either new vehicles or homes, were waiting for him.

The memo was in response to HR’s inquiry. He glanced at it, but trusted that Eva would both have the information and would use it appropriately. Everything else they’d prepared for his surprise visit, plus every other bit of information recorded at this facility, would have been on that server.

Someone had that data. Someone knew not only everything about his company, but could track all the goods they moved, and had confidential information about his employees.

Cold anger washed through him once more. He exchanged a few greetings with the men and assured them he was pleased with their work.

When he left, they were noticeably more relaxed.

Alexander was not. Seeing the office, the men who might be vulnerable due to his stupidity, had firmed his resolve.

Alena was going to submit to him, and then she was going to tell him who she worked for, and what the hell was going on.

Chapter 5

Alena was an experienced traveler, but by the time the black four-door Fiat, driven by Jakob, turned off the main road—a small two-lane, pitted motorway—she was exhausted. The private plane and passenger helicopter had both been luxurious and comfortable, but traveling, even with a billionaire, was tiring.

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