CHAPTER FIVE
“That’s not how this is going to go, Maya.” Jeffrey was pissed and wanted her to know it. “For twelve years, twelve years , you’ve kept this from me!” He picked up the photo and held it in front of her face. “You’ve kept her from me! So, no, you don’t get to keep anything else from me.” He slapped the photo onto the table and sat back in his chair. “You’re going to start with what happened twelve years ago, then you’re going to tell me why I’m just now finding out about my daughter.”
A daughter. He knew Isla was his because she looked just like his mother had at that age. It angered him to think that Maya had denied his parents their grandchild all these years and now they were both gone.
“Jeffrey, you don’t understand.”
“How about you explain it to me then.” He crossed his arms, not giving an inch.
“Yes. All right.” She set her coat aside. “Prior to being sent to America to be part of the terrorism task force, I had just completed a deep undercover operation.” They’d met working the terrorism task force together. “An operation that ended with me killing Prince Zahir Al-Mansoori of Qadira.”
Holy shit.
“That was you, huh?” Zahir was fourth in line to the throne.
“Yes.” She nodded.
At the time, Jeffrey had been the head of the international intelligence division of the NSA. As such, he’d received a written debrief on certain aspects of their op. However, MI6 had been very careful to redact the names of all of their operatives who participated in the mission.
“What happened to make you take Zahir out?” For her to have killed a target, it had to have been very bad.
“He got a bit too … aggressive one evening, and I had no choice.” She folded her forearms on the table.
“Define aggressive.” He prepared himself for what she might say.
“He tried to rape me. Had I not been able to grab his precious jeweled dagger and stab him in the heart, he surely would have done so. Then he would have happily killed me and disposed of my body somewhere in the desert. Something I am quite certain he had done in the past to many other women.”
He found it interesting that there wasn’t even the slightest quiver in her voice as she spoke of what the prince could’ve done to her, yet she’d seemed rattled when she approached Jeffrey on the street.
“Somehow, King Khaled found out who I really was. And I’ve yet to determine who betrayed me. Only a few people at MI6 knew.” She threaded her fingers together on the table. “So, in order to save face, he demanded his son’s death be kept quiet and then targeted me for extermination.” She squeezed her fingers until her knuckles became white.
The King of Qadira couldn’t risk having the world find out someone managed to infiltrate and kill a member of one of the most powerful royal families in the Middle East. A family that made billions selling oil to almost every country on the planet. Their international customers might lose confidence in them, and their competitors would consider it a weakness to be exploited.
“The paparazzi was a near constant presence in Zahir’s life, and they became suspicious when he suddenly stopped showing up at his regular nightclub spots or popping in to his favorite brothels.” She shook her head in disgust. “As fourth in line to ascend the throne, he had very few responsibilities and had gained quite the reputation for being a cat about town. So, to allay suspicions, ‘anonymous sources within the royal palace’ were compelled to feed the ravenous media a total bollocks story that the prince died from a very aggressive form of cancer. ”
“You were burned and had to disappear.” That explains why, even with his vast resources, he couldn’t find any information about her.
“Correct. I received a call from my boss just before you and I had dinner together that last night. By the next morning, Maya Corbett no longer existed, and I became Mary Jenkins.”
Perhaps that was why she’d seemed hesitant to end their meal. Or was that wishful thinking on his part?
The world they lived and worked in was different than most. People in their business had taken an oath to defend their countries from all enemies, foreign and domestic. They put their lives on the line every day, and trust was a luxury they simply could not afford.
“King Khaled died five years ago.” The coronation of his oldest son, who was even more of a hardliner than his father, had created a shift in the already volatile dynamics within the international oil trade markets. “Do you still think you’re in danger?”
“According to my handler, the contract on my life is still very much in play.” She hesitated for a moment. “Forcing Isla and I to relocate once again.”
“When did you find out you were pregnant?” Jeffrey asked.
Life on the run was hard enough when you’re only worried about yourself. He couldn’t begin to imagine the challenges she’d faced managing it with a child .
“A month after I went underground.” She slid her arms off the table, and they fell to her lap. “I picked up the telephone to ring you more times than I can count, but I couldn’t risk exposing you, myself, or especially Isla. Surely you can understand that.”
“I’m a big boy, Maya. I can take care of myself. You should’ve trusted me.” Jeffrey would have liked to be there to see her grow round with his baby, to feel his unborn child move inside her, to witness the wonder of his daughter’s birth and the almost twelve years since.
“Trust you?” She scoffed. “Let’s be honest, Jeffrey. You never fully trusted me .” She held up a hand to stave off his protest. “You think I don’t know why we always ate dinners at restaurants and that all of our clandestine rendezvous took place in a hotel suite? You weren’t protecting my reputation; you simply did not want me to know where you lived or anything about you outside of our shared work interests. There was always an unspoken understanding, an invisible line, if you will, between us that neither one of us chose to cross.”
He wanted to protest, to disagree with her, but on some unconscious level, perhaps he hadn’t fully trusted her. At least, not enough to let her in.
“That may be true, but I had a right to know about her, Maya.” No matter what she might think of him or their time together, he was the child’s father. “What did you tell her about her father? ”
“The truth, partially.” She gave him a quick glance before looking away. “I told her he was a strong, honorable, wonderful man who would have loved her deeply.”
“So she thinks her father is dead.” Just fuckin’ great.
How would Isla react to finding out that her father was very much alive?
“Yes.” She looked down at her hands. “There was really no other way to handle it.”
Jeffrey wasn’t sure he agreed with that but let it go. For now.
“Do you still have access to her messages? I want my tech guy to take a look at them.” Casey could work on tracking down the person who targeted Isla.
This job was personal, and for the sake of his daughter’s safety, he only wanted people closest to him—people he trusted—working on it. And the fewer people involved, the less likely this could turn into a full-blown international incident.
His daughter. Now that the initial shock had begun to wear off, the news of having a daughter didn’t freak him out quite so much. On the contrary, he became hyperfocused on finding her and destroying the people who dared to take her.
“Yes, I have access to her Kids Chat account.” Maya reached over to unzip her backpack, then dug out her laptop .
“Kids Chat? What would ever have possessed you to let her have access to that site?” It was crawling with the dregs of humanity.
“I did not let her have access. Isla is very smart and finagled her way past the parental safeguards I’d put in place. You have no idea the struggles involved with raising a brilliant and unbelievably curious preteen daughter.” Maya was indignant, and he couldn’t blame her. His tone had been accusatory.
“You’re right. I apologize.” What he knew about raising a kid would fit in a thimble.
“If I am to blame for anything, it would be that I was too overprotective of her and shielded her from things like online predators.” She lifted the lid on her laptop, tapped a few keys, and rolled her chair closer to his. This close, the dark shadows beneath her eyes were much more noticeable.
“Have you gotten any sleep at all since she disappeared?” Why the hell did he ask that? Because despite everything that had happened between them, a part of him still cared about her.
“I look that good, do I?” She focused on what she was doing, and her fingers flew over the keyboard. “The answer to your question is, very little. Thoughts of Isla and what she’s going through are a powerful impediment to sleep.”
His gaze traveled over her profile. Yes, she was thinner—constantly living on a knife’s edge will do that to a person—and she looked exhausted from worrying about her … their daughter. But make no mistake, Maya was still beautiful.
“All right, this is the site here.” She scrolled the cursor over an icon that looked like an envelope with a heart in the center and clicked on it. “And here is Isla’s message board.” She shifted her chair even closer so they could both look at the list of conversation streams on the laptop.
“Which one of these chats is with the person she met at the park?” he asked.
“This one, right here.” She scrolled the cursor over the name Samantha. “She’s been chatting with this person for almost two months.”
She clicked on the name, and a long set of messages streamed down the screen.
Jeffrey skimmed through them, and the more he read, the more his heart hurt for the little girl he’d never met. He could feel Isla’s loneliness and her desperate need for friendship.
“I’ve read these messages a million times and it absolutely tears at my heart every time.” Maya’s chin quivered, she bit her bottom lip, and a tear streamed down her cheek. “How could I have not known?”
She curled her hand over her mouth to hide her worry, but like a captive breaking free, a deep wrenching sob burst forth as if it had been trapped in her soul, and she finally succumbed to her emotions .
Jeffrey couldn’t help himself. He turned and wrapped his arms around her and just held her as she battled the storm of emotions she’d likely been holding back.
“My child is out there somewhere, scared, alone, and probably wondering where I am.”
“ Our child, Maya.” He was staking his claim. “Isla is our child.”
She lifted her tearstained face to him and nodded. “We have to find her, Jeffrey. We have to.”
“I promise you, Maya, we will find her.” And he would kill the people who took his daughter.
“Have you secured the girl in the new location?” The man set his knife on the edge of his plate, stabbed a piece of beef with his fork, and shoved it into his mouth. He closed his eyes and chewed, enjoying the tenderness and depths of its rich flavor. For some reason, American beef just tasted better.
“Yes, sir.” His best friend stood at attention before him. “The doctor has some concerns regarding the administration of midazolam and advises against its continued use because of her small stature. ”
The drug produced sleepiness or lethargy and was typically used to relieve anxiety before surgeries and other procedures. Using it on the girl made her easier to manage.
“Not to worry.” He lifted the linen napkin from his lap and dabbed the corners of his mouth. “She will not be with us much longer.” He flicked his wrist to shoo his friend away. “Now let me finish my meal in peace.”
“Yes, sir.” His friend turned and walked away, the leather soles of his shoes nearly silent on the shiny, white marble floor. He pulled the door open, stepped into the wide hallway, and the door whispered closed behind him.
The man cut another chunk of meat and stuffed it between his lips. Very soon, he would have the one thing that mattered most to him.
Vengeance.