Page 4 of Ruthless

Kidnapping had always been a possibility. It was the reason she had bodyguards. The knowledge was something she’d lived with all her life, but deep down, she had never considered that something could really happen. Not once in her twenty-one years had anyone made the slightest threat against her.

A surge of helplessness washed over her, and Lina did her best to squash the feeling. She had always been an optimistic person, believing that something good could be found in every situation. For the life of her, she could not fathom anything good coming from this. People were dead, Shelby was dead, and she, and who knew how many others, was being held hostage for heaven only knew what reason.

Wrapping her arms around herself for comfort, Lina closed her eyes and continued to pray for a miracle.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there. Perhaps only an hour, maybe longer, when she heard a noise outside the room. She stood, straightening her shoulders. She could not seem weak. She had been taught from an early age that you didn’t show emotion. One of her first tutors had told her that what was going on in her own mind was no one’s business.

Instead of the door opening, something was shoved through a slot at the bottom. Seconds later, the footsteps retreated. She inhaled, detecting a faint fruity aroma. Maybe an apple? Apparently, she wasn’t to be starved to death.

She couldn’t feel less like eating, but more out of curiosity than hunger, she followed the fragrance to discover the meager offering. A bottle of water, a prepackaged sandwich, something round and cold that she assumed was the apple, and a bag of chips. It appeared everything had likely come from a vending machine.

Taking the water and food, she felt her way back to her cot and sat down again. The same questions continued to swirl through her tired mind. What were their intentions? Could she be the only hostage? Was the embassy attacked just to get to her? No, that made no sense. If someone wanted her, they could have easily gotten to her at her apartment or when she was out and about with just Shelby and her bodyguards.

Multiple guards stood in front of the embassy, not counting the security measures taken within the building. And she wasn’t even that valuable of a target. Yes, her family had money to pay a ransom, but this had to be about more than just money. Didn’t it? Why would someone kill just to get money?

Scooting up on the cot, she leaned back against the wall and reviewed what she remembered about the attack. There had been an explosion and the sound of gunfire. People had screamed, and security sirens had blared throughout the hallways. People had scurried back and forth, looking for the safest passage out. She had heard men shouting commands. The language had been French, but that didn’t mean they were French terrorists. The majority of the people at the embassy were American, but almost everyone spoke French, so it made sense that they were issuing commands in a language people could understand. What had they said? She rubbed her aching head, trying to remember any specific orders. Nothing came to mind. She had been so focused on the man who had shot Shelby and attacked her, she hadn’t comprehended anything else.

She could only imagine what her family was going through. Had her father been contacted? Did he know she had been taken? She thought about the pleas she had made to be able to work here in Paris. Her papa had not approved. He had thought it had been a huge thing to allow her to attend university in the US. But it had been a private university, and she’d had both her bodyguards with her. The majority of the people who’d attended the university had a similar background, so security was tight to the point of suffocation. But it had given her more freedom than she’d ever had, and she had relished it.

When she had graduated, she knew her papa had wanted her to come home to stay and take up the responsibilities of her position. But that wasn’t anything she had ever wanted. He had known that, and being away for three years had only intensified that need for independence. It had taken constant badgering and the support of her brothers for her to be able to convince him that she could work at the embassy in Paris. He had finally relented when she had convinced him that her position as an aide would be beneficial. And it had looked good to the press.

Could her papa survive losing another loved one? She had been just a toddler when her mother had died, but she knew from her brothers that the loss had almost destroyed her father. Then, six years ago, Samuel, her middle brother, had died in a motorcycle crash. The pain had ripped through her like a sword. Her papa had stayed busy to counteract his grief, and her two other brothers had seemed to draw into themselves. They had only recently started acting the way they once had. What was this going to do to them?

Her eyes blinked slowly, and she realized she was falling asleep. She fought against the drowsiness. Sleeping would make her even more vulnerable than she already was. She needed to be ready to fight when the time came. The feeling of helplessness intensified. Fight? She had no clue how to do that. For all her life, people had done that for her. She had been protected to the nth degree. If she had even skinned a knee or stubbed her toe, someone was there to make it better. There had been no need to protect herself—others would do that for her.

Shame and embarrassment washed over her. She had claimed she wanted independence, but how had she really done that? By continuing to rely on others instead of herself? For all her talk, she had done nothing significant to ensure she could be independent. She had merely changed locations and had done nothing to really gain the independence she claimed to want.

At that moment, she vowed to herself that if she survived this ordeal, that would change. She would never be dependent upon others for her safety. She would learn how to fight, how to defend herself against the monsters of the world. And not only that, she would also learn how to defend others. If she had known what to do when the embassy had been attacked, she might have been able to save Shelby’s life. Instead, her beautiful and courageous friend had died trying to protect her.

A noise outside her door caught her attention. More footsteps sounded. These were different, though. They were heavy, but they didn’t sound like before. These steps seemed softer, lighter. She went to her feet and straightened her shoulders. She would face this challenge the way she had always faced adversity, with grit and determination and a mountain of pride. She was her father’s daughter, and he had taught her to stand up and be brave. These people would never see the terrified, vulnerable young woman behind the façade.

This time, the door opened, and an overhead light flickered on. Lina closed her eyes against the glare of bright light. Opening them again, she blinked several times to focus on the figure in front of her. The man standing before her was familiar—achingly familiar. The expression on his face was one of deep concern. Relief washed over her, followed by confusion.

“Dirk?” Lina gasped, hardly believing her eyes.

“Lina, darling? Are you all right?”

“Did they take you, too? I thought you were in the US. How did they get you?”

“I came back early. Are you hurt?”

“No. Not really. I was hit in the head, but other than that, I’m fine. Were you hurt?”

“No. They held guns on some of us but didn’t hurt us.”

“How many are here?”

“It’s hard to say. Maybe a half dozen or so. You’re sure you’re okay? Nothing bleeding or broken?”

“No, I’m fine. Really.” A part of her wanted to go to him and let him hold her, but something held her back. Why was he so calm—so unrattled? And why did he look so immaculate and fresh, as if he’d just showered and changed before he’d walked in the door? She had no mirror, but she knew she was disheveled and stank of fear and sweat. Dirk, on the other hand, was dressed in a dark bespoke suit with a startling white shirt and light blue tie, as though he was prepared for a power meeting.

In a flash, the answer hit her and had her taking a step back. “You weren’t really taken, were you?”

The expression on his face changed from concern to an arrogant smirk. “You’re actually smarter than you look, babe. Of course I wasn’t taken, silly goose. I planned this entire event.”

Horror washed over her. “You did what? But why?”

Dirk took a step toward her and then stopped, the obnoxious grin and evil glint in his eyes completely incongruent with what he’d shown her before. Where was the charming, witty man who had gently wooed her? The man who’d told her silly jokes and had seemed almost as shy and awkward as she was? The man before her was like an evil doppelgänger.

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