Page 37 of Beautiful Secrets
If Mika hadn’t come back with me yesterday, I’d probably have had my concierge tied to my bed last night. I’ve been eyeing her since I checked in a few days ago.
“That’s fine.” I point at the cold breakfast food. “Take that. Bring me some coffee and sweets.”
She opens her mouth, but I cut her off with a flick of my wrist. “Dealer’s choice.”
If she’s upset with how I snubbed her, she doesn’t show it. She just takes the breakfast trolley—minus the croissants, which I tell her to leave—and wheels it back into the elevator.
I head for the bedroom with the shopping bags, a fat grin on my face. I really hope they found something pink with glitter on it. I can’t wait to see Mika’s face when I make her try it on for me.
My cell phone rings before I reach the closed door.
Kill.
I drop the bags outside the door and detour onto the balcony, answering on the third ring. “Haul.”
“Where is she?” my brother grunts.
My chin moves back. “Give me a clue—”
“Dimitri’s fucking daughter. Is she at your hotel? In your car? A fucking abandoned warehouse? Where?”
“Relax, bro.” I let out a laugh, and then glance back at the repairman. He has his back to me and he’s far on the other side of the room, but I keep my voice low regardless and close the sliding door—just in case. “Everything’s under control.”
“A pair of Vasiliev’s thugs have been parked outside my house since last night, and you’re telling me everything’s okay?”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
So Dimitri wasn’t fucking around when he threatened Kill.
Should have known that fucker would do anything he could to stay in Scotland. He has it easy now that the Hendrys have taken a back seat.
“I’m sending Dimitri home,” I say. “I told him to pack his shit and—”
“You’re—?” Kill cuts off with a bitter laugh. “Christ, Cole. Dimitri won’t leave just because you kidnapped his fucking daughter. What the hell were you thinking? I doubt he’d even care if you sent him her head. Have you paid attention to anything I’ve told you?”
My mind races, but it comes up empty.
Too many coke-fueled benders in my past. Any number of times Kill could have said something meaningful.
I grit my teeth. “I’m not giving her back. Not yet. I’m letting him sweat some more, then—”
“Cole.” Kill’s voice is dead calm. Eerily so. “If that girl isn’t home in time for supper, Vasiliev is the last person you’ll have to worry about.”
My stomach twists into a cold knot. “Will you just listen? It’ll work, Kill. I’ll courier him a fucking toe, and it’ll work. You should have heard him, how pissed he was that I have her. We just have to—”
“Wearen’t doing anything,” Kill growls. “You’ve put my family in danger, Cole. Myfamily.” Cillian lets out a long, steady breath in my ear. “Get it done.”
The line goes dead.
As soon as I step back inside the suite, the repairman closes his toolbox and gives me an amicable smile. “All fixed.” His smile fades when I get close enough for him to see my expression. I swipe my keycard against the panel, mutter out a thanks, and turn to face the bedroom door.
I’m sick of everyone treating me like I’m still some fucking in-patient at a mental facility.
If slicing off one of Mika’s toes is what it’ll take to get the Vasilievs out of my country, then so be it. In fact, I might just send him a finger too.
The thought of disfiguring her puts a sour taste in my mouth.
I veer off to the kitchen and grab a butcher’s knife from the marble stand near the double range. Heft it in my hand.
