Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 157450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
“Maxim!”
I turn to see Caroline running down the street toward me.
Caroline? What on earth?
But something about the man with the Mercedes pulls my attention back. The scene is odd, because he’s walking around to the near side of the car. It’s wrong. I’m missing something. My senses are suddenly on high alert: I can hear the crisp clip of Caroline’s heels as she gets closer, I can smell winter and the Thames on the chilly breeze, and I strain my eyes to stare at the license number of the car. Even from this distance, I can tell that it has foreign plates.
The man opens what must be the driver’s door.
“Maxim!” Caroline calls again. I turn, and she runs up to me and throws her arms around my neck with such force that I have to put my arms around her to balance us both and stop us from falling to the ground. “I’m so sorry,” she sobs.
I say nothing as my focus is drawn back to the car. The driver climbs in and slams the door while Caroline offers more apologies, but I ignore her as the indicator light starts blinking and the car pulls away from the curb into the light of a streetlamp.
And then I see it. The small red-and-black flag of Albania on the number plate.
* * *
Alessia hears Maxim’s name shouted down the street. She turns around in the passenger seat as Anatoli opens his door. Maxim is standing at the end of the block—and a fair-haired woman runs into his arms, hugging him.
Who is she?
He cradles her head.
No!
He holds her waist.
And she remembers—the woman wearing his shirt, standing in his kitchen.
Alessia, this is my friend and sister-in-law, Caroline.
Anatoli slams the door shut, making Alessia jump and forcing her to look ahead.
His sister-in-law? His married sister-in-law—and his brother is dead.
Caroline is his widow.
Alessia chokes back a sob.
This is where he has been. With Caroline. And now they are hugging in the street and he’s holding her. The betrayal is swift and cruel, slicing Alessia into tiny pieces and shattering her faith in herself—and in him.
Him. Her Mister.
A tear oozes down her cheek as Anatoli starts the engine. Smoothly he maneuvers the car out of the parking space and drives away from the only happiness Alessia has ever known.
* * *
“Fuck!” I shout as dread spawns dark and deadly in my gut.
Caroline startles. “What is it?”
“Alessia!” Abandoning Caroline, I race up the street, only to see the car disappear into the distance.
“Shit. Shit. Shit. Not again!” I grab my hair with both hands, helpless. Completely helpless.
“Maxim, what is it?” Caroline is now standing beside me outside the entrance to my building.
“They’ve got her!” I fumble for my keys to open the front door.
“Who? What are you talking about?”
“Alessia.” I crash through the front door and don’t bother with the lift. Leaving Caroline at the foot of the stairs, I race up all six flights to my flat. When I unlock the door, the alarm starts beeping, confirming the worst of my fears.
Alessia is not here.
I silence the alarm and listen, hoping beyond hope that I have this wrong. Of course I hear nothing except the wind rattling the skylight in the hallway and my blood pulsing through my ears.
Frantically I start running through each room, my imagination shifting into overdrive. They have her. They have her again. My sweet, brave woman. What will those monsters do to her? Her clothes are not in my bedroom. Nor the spare room…
In the kitchen I find her keys and the note.
Mister Maxim
My betrothed is here and he is taking me to my home in Albania.
Thank you for everything.
Alessia
“No!” I scream, overwhelmed by my despair. Picking up the phone, I hurl it at the wall. It shatters into pieces as I sink to the floor, my head in my hands.
For the second time in less than a week, I want to cry.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Maxim, what the fuck is going on?”
I take my head out of my hands, and Caroline is standing at the doorway. She looks windswept and unkempt, but calmer than she did a few minutes ago.
“He’s taken her.” My voice is hoarse as I struggle to control my rage and despair.
“Who has?”
“Her fiancé.”
“Alessia has a fiancé?”
“It’s complicated.”
She folds her arms and frowns, with what seems like genuine concern. “You look shattered.”
I turn blazing eyes at her. “I am.” Slowly I get to my feet. “I think the woman I want to marry has just been kidnapped.”
“Marry?” Caroline blanches.
“Yes. Fucking marry!” My voice booms off the walls, and we glare at each other, the words hanging between us, ripe with regret and recrimination. Caroline closes her eyes and tucks her hair behind her ear. When she opens them, they are steely blue with resolve.
“Well, you’d better go after her, then,” she says.