AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Vadisk withdrew a gun from the waistband of his pants, pointing it at Sinaver as Montana unfastened his seat belt, pulling the man to his feet as he hurled a handful more epithets before changing direction, attempting to cut a deal.
When Montana unlocked the cuffs, Sinaver froze for a moment, clearly shocked by his freedom.
That was all the time Montana gave him before he pushed the man overboard into the sea.
Dahlia, Montana, and Vadisk leaned over the side, watching Sinaver thrash in the water.
“He’ll be fine,” Montana said, tossing the rope ladder over so he could easily climb aboard. “Let’s go.”
Sailors on the Turkish ship slid a walkway over, spanning the gap, and held out their hands, encouraging them to come aboard.
Dahlia went first, Vadisk supporting her with a strong hand, then Vadisk boarded the other boat. Montana crossed over last, untying the rope and bringing it with him. He left the catamaran idling, key in the ignition.
“Once we pull away, Sinaver can climb the ladder and sail back to Crimea.”
“That option is too kind,” she said. “You could have taken the key. That way he could float, adrift for days until someone finds him.”
“My bloodthirsty wife,” Montana said, his eyes alight with delight. He gave her a quick, hard kiss.
Vadisk scooped Dahlia into his arms and started walking.
“Vadisk, we talked about this,” she said, chastising him.
“We need to elevate your leg…and I bet they have painkillers.”
She sighed happily at the idea of taking something to dull the stabbing, burning pain in her calf.
It took a full twenty minutes, and two pain pills, before Dahlia could make herself believe that they were nearly back to Turkey.
They’d completed their mission. They were free.
Now the true adventure began, she thought, as she looked at her husbands and smiled.
ChapterTwenty
Vadisk knew it was bad luck to whistle inside, but damn if he wasn’t tempted when he walked through the door of their hotel suite. Following the relative success of their mission—they’d revealed the blackmailer and identified a new threat to the secret society—the Masters’ Admiralty had put them up at the Four Seasons in Istanbul at the Bosphorus.
“Damn,” Montana murmured. “What a place.”
“I think our societies might be feeling a wee bit guilty about putting us in so much danger,” Dahlia mused as she ran her hand along the back of one of the couches.
Following a debrief about their mission via speakerphone with Eric, the Grand Master, Nikolett, and a handful of other people, a limousine drove them here for what Eric referred to as a “real fucking honeymoon,” one without crazy people trying to blackmail, arrest, or blow them up.
As such, they’d been given an all-expenses paid stay in the Atik Pasha suite, complete with whatever spa treatments they wanted. Vadisk, who’d grown up in a lower-income family, hadn’t been able to resist doing a quick internet search to see what the suite cost on the way here. While he hadn’t gotten his answer, he knew it had to be a hell of a lot because it wasn’t even listed on the website. It was one of those “call to request rates” rooms, which to him, screamed “keep looking, asshole, because you can’t afford it.”
In reality, he probably could afford it. Being a security officer paid well; he just never had time to spend any of the money.
Looking around at the mahogany furnishings, floor-to-ceiling windows, full marble bathroom, and abundance of fresh flowers, the nightly rate he’d guessed before arrival went up substantially.
“I’m okay with their guilt,” Montana said, popping his head out from the bathroom. “You should see this bathtub. It’s shaped like an egg.”
Dahlia followed, peering in. “Damn. We’re not all going to fit in there.” She glanced over at Vadisk with a mischievous grin. “If we tried, we’d look like Vadisk in that laundry cart.”
Montana snorted, pulling out his phone and flashing it in Vadisk’s direction. He’d made the picture he’d snapped in the back of the laundry van his screensaver just to fuck with him. “Might be fun to try.”
Dahlia laughed. “We’d flood the entire room.”
“You know, I’m seriously thinking we should use this photo for our Christmas cards this year,” Montana mused. “Or maybe our wedding announcements.”
