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“I don’t want his rage directed at you again.”
“Does it matter if we use it to trap him in some way?”
“It matters, Alana. Even behind bars, he’s a powerful man.”
“Then what are we supposed to do? Submit to him? Because that seems to be the only solution.”
“We need to strip him of the company, get you someplace safe, and let Walker watch him. When he fucks up, they’ll be there to take him down for it.”
“I think he needs the pressure on him that I can create, but you’re too afraid for me. Stop doing that. If I need to be someplace safe, we might as well go all out on this. I do the interview. I leave. You join me after. And we don’t have much time to decide on this. I’m supposed to be in the studio this afternoon.”
“What’s to keep him from doing an interview calling you crazy? He’ll turn it around on us, Alana. Once works. Twice does not. I know him.”
“You think?”
“I know him. Cancel the interview. The more I think about it, the more I’m certain that’s what he’s going to do. Fuck.” He scrubs his jaw. “He’ll do just that if I take the company from him. You were sympathetic in the first interview because it felt like you didn’t really want to say much. You were forced into it. Another interview makes you look like you’re attention-seeking.”
“I’m the one with the dead father and a mother who was cheating.”
“Public narratives can turn on you easily. He’ll hesitate to risk it unless his hand is forced.”
“Okay then. How do we turn him going on TV against him?”
His cellphone buzzes with a text, and he reaches for it, glances at the screen, and grimaces. “Mary. She wants to know if we are saving her company or gutting it.”
My chin lowers in defeat. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I think we need to sit down with Blake’s team and talk.”
“Okay, yes. That means we need clothes.”
He leans in and kisses me. “Yes. You definitely need clothes, but rest assured, I’ll take them off again in the very near future.”
“Not if I’m in the Hamptons and you’re here.” I press my hand to his face, his skin warm beneath my touch, but I am so damn cold inside the cave of our captivity to his father. “I don’t want to see that house without you. I really don’t. Especially if you think it might be a good place to get married. I don’t want him to take that moment from us.”
He captures my hand and kisses it. “We’ll figure it out. Let’s get dressed, sit down with Blake, and talk.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Alana
Twenty minutes later, we’re at the kitchen island with Blake and Kellan; Kellan being the man Walker flew in to interrogate one of my kidnappers. He’s an interesting guy, with sharp eyes, fair skin, and light brown hair, who we soon learn has spent years working inside the Russian borders.
With Blake’s encouragement, he explains why he’s involved, “Roughly seven years ago, I was pinpointed by a general who felt I could pass as a Russian national. I picked up on the language and the etiquette training with ease and it wasn’t long until I was shipped off to an undercover operation in Russia. I left the service two years ago and joined Walker Security. As for your kidnappers, they’re part of the Russian mob which is no joke, and no one you want to play games with. You were very lucky things ended as delicately as they did, Alana.”
I hug myself, the silk of the emerald-green blouse I’d chosen to be camera ready blossoming beneath my fingers. “I’m grateful to Walker for getting me out.”
Damion’s hand presses to my lower back, warm with comfort, as Kellan adds, “The guy we captured is a nobody. He’s a grunt man.” His attention shifts to Damion. “I don’t know what the fuck your father was thinking involving himself with these people. They’ll hold him and your company captive, and I’m talking blackmail and threats of bodily harm.”
“My father tends to believe he’s uncrossable and more dangerous than anyone else in the room. But the interesting part of this equation is Caleb.”
“Blake’s filled me in on Caleb,” Kellan replies.
“Caleb’s lethal, but for some reason, he’s on the wrong side of my father which means my father is on the wrong side of Caleb. Caleb convinced my father is sending the mob after him therefore Caleb wants my father dead.”
“Which might sound like good news,” Blake comments. “They kill each other off and this is over, but neither party wants a mess to clean up. They’ll want a coverup in place. In other words, Damion, it opens you up to being framed for the murder, and you have a hell of a lot of motive.”
I’m officially freaking out in my head and I twist around to face Damion. “How do you know any of this? I’ve heard nothing of Caleb wanting your father dead, or fearing a Russian hit.”
