Page 76 of The Forgotten Wife

He crossed to his phone the moment they entered his study.

“Anything?” Belle asked.

The answer phone light wasn’t blinking. He checked his cell phone. No missed calls. As a last resort, he fired up his laptop to see if there were any messages to his other accounts. When that drew a blank, anxiety crept through him. “No, there’s nothing. Damn it, weshould’veheard back by now,” he growled.

She slid a soothing hand over his nape. “Let’s give it a few more minutes?—”

A second crash from the kitchen made them both look up. “What the hell is going on—” He stopped abruptly when the phone rang.

Belle squeezed his shoulder. “Get the call. I’ll go and make sure everything’s fine in the kitchen.”

He snatched up the phone as she walked away, the seductive sway of her body making his breath catch all over again.

“Andreakos,” he rasped.

“Sir, we have a problem,” Allen said without preamble.

Nick froze. “What kind of problem?”

“The man we have here in Dusseldorf, he’s not Mwana. We’ve interrogated him. He goes by the name of Richard Francis, and he says he’s working with Mwana. I’m sorry, sir, but we think Mwana is?—”

“Here,” Nick finished for him, every muscle in his body clenching hard. A millisecond later, he dropped the phone. His chair crashed backward as he launched himself toward the door and hit the hallway in a dead run.

No! No, no,no!

The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.

The hairs on his nape rose, but he fought the alarm growing inside him as he veered toward the kitchen. Bodyguards were stationed downstairs and all around the building. No one could get in or out without being seen.

It’s nothing. You’re imagining things.

A heartbeat later, he knew he wasn’t.

CHAPTER 16

Charles Mwana was waiting for him, looking nothing like the rebel soldier they’d seen on screen two days ago.

Mwana had gone to great lengths to disguise himself. His light brown hair had been dyed black, and the livid scar had been hidden under carefully applied prosthetic makeup. Combined with the black-and-white waiter’s outfit, there was no way he could’ve been picked out as a threat.

Dear God, the man had dared to enter their home!

Mwana had one arm locked around Belle’s shoulders, and the other held a deadly looking knife to her throat.

The air left Nick’s lungs in a painful punch. He tried to breathe through it as he assessed the situation. His insides twisted when he saw his wife’s ripped dress. She’d also lost a shoe.

He couldn’t bear to look into her eyes. He didn’t dare. He knew he’d lose it completely if he saw so much as a hint of pain in her face. So he kept his eyes on her captor as he stepped into the room.

Mwana’s voice stopped him. “Good of you to join us. You were almost too late. We would’ve taken our leave by now if your butler hadn’t got in the way. Sorry I had to get rid of him. He wasmaking a nuisance of himself. But I’m glad you’re here. Now you get to pay for destroying my life.”

Devastation raged through Nick’s insides as he took another step and saw Bertrand slumped next to the fridge. Looking closer, he saw the Frenchman’s chest rise on a shallow breath.Thank God!He breathed a fraction easier and made a silent promise to triple the man’s salary.

“How exactly did I destroy your life, Mwana?” he demanded. The first rule of engagement—keep the enemy talking. “The way I see it, you brought everything down on yourself. Oh. Clever disguise, by the way.”

A cruel smile curved the African’s thin lips. “It fooled your security downstairs. Just as I’ve been fooling your bunch of toy soldiers all over the world. Where are they, by the way? Let me guess, they’re still chasing their tails in Bumfuck, Germany, correct?”

The man’s ingenuity and precise knowledge of Allen’s movements threw Nick for a nanosecond, but he rallied. “You know very well where they are since you handed them your colleague, Francis.” He strove to keep his voice calm and even.

“Ah, yes, Richard. Do you believe in fate, Mr. Andreakos?”

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