Page 66 of The Marriage Auction 2: Part 3

I hadn’t heard from him in over thirty years. Frankly, I’d been told he’d died at the hand of one of his many women. Stabbed in his sleep.

“Angus?” I gasped.

“Hello, Alana, it’s good to see you again,” he said in that charming thick accent I now knew was Russian.

My mouth fell open and closed. “I thought you were dead.”

His lips twitched into that smarmy smile that was all too familiar, his fake white teeth shockingly bright against his darker skin. His hair was no longer black as it had grayed over time, but it still looked greasy and unkempt.

He moved to the single chair across from the couch and took a seat. He snapped his fingers and one of his men got him a glass of vodka and put it into his hand. Another man handed him a cigar and a guillotine cutter with which he snipped the tip, allowing the top to fall to the white carpet without care. The same man flicked on a lighter and held it aloft. Angus leaned forward and lit his cigar, blowing large puffs of the noxious smoke into the air.

“Angus, why am I here?” I asked.

“That is the twenty-million-dollar question, isn’t it?”

I frowned. Twenty million was the exact number I paid him for the purchase of The Marriage Auction decades ago.

“I’m sorry I don’t understand.”

“Don’t you?” He puffed on his cigar and glared, an evil glint in his eyes.

I shook my head. “I really don’t. After Ilegallybought the auction for well over a fair price for the time, I never thought about you again.”

“Is that so?” He snarled. “That is not how I remember it going.”

“Oh?” I said, genuinely confused.

“After you took my book of business, my clients, and all my data and disappeared off to France, the authorities came after me for my part in the murder of Celine Holt. You double crossed me!” He sneered.

I shook my head. “Darren was given life in prison. I made no mention of you during any of my interviews or within my statements. You can check the court records.”

“Oh, believe me, I did,” he growled. “And yet, somehow, six months after all was said and done, you nowhere to be seen, the FBI came calling. They had been given undeniable proof of my involvement in the unlawful marriage of Celine and Darren. I was taken in, treated like garbage, and sentenced to ten years. And you know what I did for those ten years?” he asked, smoke billowing out his mouth and nose.

I licked my suddenly dry lips. “I swear it wasn’t me. Angus, you have to believe me,” I pleaded.

“I spent every minute of that time plotting how I would return the favor to you and yours,” he continued, not paying attention to me at all.

“It. Wasn’t. Me,” I said as loud as I dared.

“Lies!” he roared, his face turning a molten red. “You were the only one that knew the finer details of my connection to Darren and Celine and the other men who were involved. All of them were on my roster.”

“Anyone involved in your organization was kicked out of the business within 48 hours of it being mine. I had no involvement. I swear!” I repeated the truth as I knew it.

“You ruined my life!” he fired back. “I lost ten years of my newborn daughter’s life because of you and that bitch Celine. If she was still alive, I’d kill her all over again. Instead, I’m going to have to settle for making your life a living hell, or maybe I’ll just lock you in the basement of one of my homes, hmm? Let you rot for the next ten years so you know exactly what it feels like to lose everything you love and hold dear.”

“Boss…” one of Angus’s men, standing by the window, called out.

Angus patted his bottom lip as though in deep thought. “Actually, maybe I’ll…”

“Boss!” the man called out louder.

“You dare interrupt me!” he growled.

“The authorities are here.” The guy pointed out the window to the street below.

Angus’s head snapped back to me, and he glared daggers. “You called the authorities?”

“With what phones? We gave them to your men in the car.”

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