Page 84 of Mercenary Princess

Chapter 31

London, England

Viktor hadn’t slept in days. All he could do was replay the files in his head, the files he’d erased. She had the copy, but he still had the originals from Cruz. He hadn’t replayed them since seeing the hurt in her eyes when she found out he’d seen them.

The woman had him twisted in knots.

His eyes caught on the news playing on the television that was usually hidden in the wall.

Jean Luc’s body had been found.

He had a vested interest in this particular news. It seemed the prime minister and president were doing a good job of ensuring the “car accident” remained just that. It was to their advantage, considering the information Viktor had discovered in the Frenchman’s bank vault regarding both men.

He hadn’t left London. He’d canceled more meetings and had been forced to wait for his rage to abate along with some of his fear for Sophia, at least from the threat Jean Luc had posed. There were still a great many worries for him where his woman was concerned.

Little did the news understand the two stories they were divulging were linked. Sick images of Jean Luc’s torture chamber were next in line for that particular media station. Pavel had located the old bunker the Frenchman had been utilizing in a field a mile from the man’s home. The authorities had been notified the day before, and bones had been found. Viktor would bet the place had been bleached clean of all of Jean Luc’s DNA, but that wouldn’t likely be discovered for a while.

Viktor’s lips curled at all that he’d learned. He couldn’t shake all of the worry. He wanted Sophia far away from all she’d gotten herself involved in. If the elite untouchables of her world learned they were being targeted, all hell would rain down on her group.

Her hurt expression still haunted him, but he wouldn’t regret putting her safety first.

There were always ties in crime. Someone could eventually divulge information, and that would leave Sophia and her friends vulnerable. He’d done his own detailed background searches of the men Jean Luc had had photographed as part of her group. Too quickly, he’d found the mercenary group purchasing his equipment through Daire. The man, Cade, was an old friend of Daire’s and had early access to everything Rath Tech Industries sold. Viktor had clenched his jaw when he’d gone through all the technology purchases in the last several years. He wanted to revoke the damned account and ban the man, but he’d kept his mouth shut. He would never divulge Sophia’s secret, even to Daire and Titian.

Fuck.

He’d been assessing every way this could go badly.

Even he had created a tie to her activities by hiring Cruz. He’d used the thief’s skills in the past and felt confident she would keep her mouth shut because he knew the woman’s secrets, but what would it have taken for her to have kept copies of the information she’d stolen? Jean Luc only logged theories; there’d been no real proof. But there’d been enough links to Sophia to make Viktor edgy. The fact that his woman had been recorded discussing murdering a man who’d died the following year was not something that made him fucking happy. She and her friends had even discussed the ledger and all the bad deeds they’d found. They thankfully hadn’t said anything more specific or damning, but it had been enough.

He ran a hand through the back of his hair. Had he known what was in that vault, he would have played things differently.

Viktor turned as the door swung wide and Ivan stalked in. “He’s here.”

Forde Alastair Beckett strolled in. The Englishman moved with the polished ease of an aristocrat, his carefree playboy façade firmly in place.

Viktor crossed to the wet bar. “Drink?” He needed to calm his agitation before dealing with the man.

“Bourbon. Neat.”

Viktor poured their drinks and stalked back to where Beckett had made himself comfortable on the couch.

Viktor set down the man’s drink and grabbed his tablet. After a moment of keying in commands to shut down the feeds in the room, he tossed it at Beckett. Everything in the room was disabled. Ivan would have swept the man for bugs, so that should suffice.

Beckett nodded, and his eyes grew colder. “What do you want, Mr. Popov?”

“I want Sophia.” Viktor paused to emphasize his next word. “Safe.”

The other man studied him closely before stating, “You look like hell, like you haven’t slept in days.”

Viktor grunted and raised his glass to take a drink. The two men sat in charged silence for a long while.

“You care for her.” It wasn’t a question so much as an assessment.

“Yes.” Viktor’s cocked brow made it clear he considered that obvious.

“And why are you telling me this?” Beckett asked.

“She won’t listen to reason.” Viktor practically growled the words.

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