Page 26 of Vienna Bargain

Now the master in her fantasy had a face. Alexander’s face.

When this was over she was going to need some intense therapy to reverse her Stockholm syndrome.

“Yes.”

She dropped her arm, standing before him defiant yet obedient, naked but unashamed.

Alexander reached out, but instead of touching her hair this time, his fingers skimmed down her cheek. He dropped his hand and looked away, frowning before finally saying, “Follow me.”

He led the way to the seating arrangement, but much to her confusion walked behind the couch. He paused at the bookcase to study it, and Alena craned her neck trying to see what he was grabbing. She didn’t think she’d seen anything but books on the shelves, but she hadn’t looked closely.

He pulled on a book, then released it, where it dropped back into place with an alarmingly loud thud. Then the bookcase started to swing open, revealing a hidden doorway. Lights clicked on, illuminating the top of a spiral staircase.

“You have a secret passage.” She didn’t bother to hide her delight. Some things were just too damned cool not to acknowledge.

“I do.” Alexander motioned to the stairs. “And it offers privacy for my playroom.”

This time she couldn’t stop the shiver, and her voice trembled a little. “No one else knows about this room?”

“No.”

“Meaning that in sixty years when they level this monstrosity, they’ll find my bones amid the rubble.”

Alexander’s lips twitched. “They might not level this wing. It isn’t monstrous.”

“Ah, good, so my remains will decompose to dust in your secret torture chamber.” It was meant to be both a joke and challenge. A way to make sure he knew that she knew exactly what was at stake.

Her life.

Alexander motioned to the top of the stairs, and for a moment she considered running.

It’s just a game, just a game.

Her mantra, the mental framework that made her so good at what she did, was crumbling, because the stakes were too high. To her, each investigation and case was a game in which she manipulated other people like game pieces. Usually they never even knew they’d been manipulated.

She walked past him to the head of the stairs. The first smooth wood tread was cool under her bare foot.

Her work put her in contact with the rich and famous. People who had little to no understanding of how life really worked.

But there were wealthy people, and then there were the uber-wealthy, whose net worth was many magnitudes higher than that of the next tier down. Men and women whose money meant rules didn’t always apply to them.

Manipulating a man like Alexander was playing with fire.

Another step.

This had always been a dangerous plan. She’d shifted it from dangerous to deadly when she let her emotions, her needs, change the strategy.

She kept a hold of the rails on either side as the stairs continued descending. She’d assumed they were going to the ground floor but there had been too many steps for that. Or maybe it just seemed that way because her heart was racing and she had to force herself to take deep breaths so she wouldn’t hyperventilate.

She relaxed marginally when she heard Alexander’s footsteps behind her, following her down.

The overhead light at the top of the circular shaft containing the spiral staircase no longer illuminated the stairs. Now the only light came from small rectangular accent lights mounted in the wall shining on each step. She watched her feet, focusing on them rather than on the oppressive and growing darkness.

When she reached the bottom, stepping from cool wood to outright cold stone, she wanted to whimper in relief. At the foot of the stairs was a small landing area and a door set into the concrete wall. The door was plain metal, like something that belonged in a warehouse, except there was no handle.

Alexander nudged her gently out of the way. He flipped open a panel beside the door, revealing a keypad.

“Would you like to enter the code?”

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