Page 40 of Marko

Her deep sigh of contentment made me smile as I slipped out of the bathroom.

After closing the door, I grabbed the box containing the gift I got her out of my jacket pocket and set about fixing it with a tiny tracker. Then I added another to her phone.

Ever since my sister Krissa was murdered, I made sure I could track all my family members through their phones. Lately, I’d been working on smaller devices and developed ones that could be fitted into jewellery. Now, whenever any woman in the family received a piece of jewellery, I ensured that it was embedded with a tiny tracker.

After Ash was abducted and his phone discarded, I extended this to watches and other jewellery for the guys too. I was even considering placing some trackers in their belts and tie pins and wherever else I could. Of course, they probably wouldn’t like that, but I didn’t plan on telling them. My family thought I was paranoid enough, and nosey. I wasn’t. It was not as if I had been following their every move, listening in on private calls and stuff. The trackers were only used in emergencies.

Admittedly, they might have been right about me being paranoid when it came to the safety of my family, perhaps even obsessed. I couldn’t help it. My family meant the world to me, and their safety was my biggest priority. My tattoo said ‘Moya sem’ya eto vse’, which meant ‘My family means everything.’

So obsessed or not, I would continue to track them any way I could. If we had taken extra precautions before Kissa was murdered, if I had given her the watch I bought for her graduation before she went out that night, she might still be alive. The bastards who killed her had thrown her phone away when they grabbed her, but if she had been wearing the watch, I could have tracked her.

Ash blamed himself for being late to pick our sister up that night. I blamed myself for not being able to track her. I failed her, and I was determined not to fail anyone else. Nobody else would be taken or hurt on my watch if I could do anything about it.

Melissa returned to the bedroom a short time later, looking relaxed, sleepy, and sexy as hell. Climbing into bed beside her, I cuddled her close as we both drifted off to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

CHAPTER 21

MELISSA

EARLY HOURS OF MONDAY MORNING – FINDING COMFORT IN MARKO’S ARMS

Snippets of memories of happier times with my parents floated through my head. Laughter rang out as instrumental music filled the air, and the smell of candy floss made my mouth water.

“Mummy, look!” I shouted, pointing to the carousel with brightly coloured horses. Grabbing her hand, I tugged her towards it. Her laughter blended with mine as we bobbed up and down on the horses and waved to my dad who watched us.

We next strolled down a quiet street in Rome, savouring gelato, our voices mingling with the sounds of the city. In Montreal, we were running through a park. Dad chased me, lifting me into the air and twirling me around as I giggled with delight.

Mum’s voice called my name, and I turned to see her smiling as she crossed the street to collect me from school. She looked so beautiful, and my heart ached as she embraced me tightly, as she always did whenever we were apart.

Suddenly, my mind flashed to abseiling down the side of a building, dressed in black, a rush of adrenaline coursing through me as I saw my dad doing the same beside me.

Then, I watched my parents dance on a balcony under the stars, feeling blessed by their love and happiness.

But before long, things turned bad. A room appeared, reminiscent of the Opera Gallery in Monaco. Instead of art, the walls displayed family photographs, and the sculptures embodied memories of my parents.

No sooner had I registered that fact than the glass shattered unexpectedly, and the pictures curled at the edges as they were consumed by fire, turning to dust. Smouldering paper drifted down like confetti in hell, the heat becoming unbearable.

Panicked, I turned to my parents and watched in horror as their faces melted like wax, their features distorting into unrecognisable lumps.

“No, please! Don’t leave me!” I cried, reaching out towards them, grasping desperately at emptiness.

Screams filled my ears. I covered them to drown out the sound, but it was relentless, piercing through my attempts to block it out.

“Melissa! Melissa, wake up, honey!”

The sound of Marko’s voice eventually penetrated my subconsciousness, and I came awake with a start, my heart racing, my breathing harsh as tears ran down my face.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It was just a nightmare,” Marko said, stroking my hair, as he held my trembling body as the last remnants of the nightmare faded.

Sniffing hard, I lay there and let him soothe me, his warm embrace comforting me as my breathing slowly returned to normal. That was the first nightmare I’d had since I was a child, and it was very disconcerting.

As my brain connected the dots, I knew what it meant. Everyone I cared for and everything we’d owned were nothing but dust. My memories had all been taken in the blink of an eye, and I was left alone.

Leaning back, I looked into Marko’s eyes.

“I hate Mathieson for dragging me into his problems and the MP for blowing up my home. I need that bastard to pay,” I said angrily.

“I know, Melissa, and we will make sure he does,” Marko said, pulling me back into his chest.

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