Chapter Eight
Adam
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TAKING CAROLINE’S HAND, I pointed to the bank on the opposite side of the road.
“There,” I told her. “That’s where we’re headed.”
“I’ll follow you, Sir.”
She fluttered her eyelashes at me, as though she was innocent in our delay, but I couldn’t chide her. The morning had turned out to be unexpectedly pleasing, and I bit back my smile as her fingers curled with mine.
So much for not having time for pleasure.
My lips twisted into a knowing smirk. Caroline was always so damn alluring. I should have known I wouldn’t be able to resist her, yet somehow, I’d persuaded myself that I knew better, that I was setting the tone, that I was in charge.
Who am I kidding?
I’d barely held on to control whilst I’d been running Fortorus, the pressure of Ian’s visit and his intention to slaughter tens of thousands of women he deemed ‘unworthy’, including Caroline, pushing me right to the brink of my sanity.
If it hadn’t been for her, I don’t know how I would have coped in those bleak moments of realization, but then, perhaps without her, I might never have come to them.
I shuddered at the thought, disgusted at who I’d allowed myself to become.
“Are you cold?” she murmured, leaning closer as we crossed the street.
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” I assured her, but standing on the sunshine-drenched Swiss street, I had to be honest with myself, if not with her.
I could play the dominant, order her around, and know we were both enjoying every fucking minute, but in the end, it was Caroline who held the true power between us.
It had always been her.
“Remember what I told you,” I whispered into her ear as we crossed the street and stepped into the large, air-conditioned branch. “Let me handle this.”
“Of course, Sir.” Her reply was instantaneous, belying the mischievous glimmer in her gaze. “I’m just here to look pretty and do as I’m told.”
“Hmmm.” My tone was predictably unconvinced. “Good.”
I’d seen that glint before, most recently when she’d successfully goaded me into the most incredible orgasm that morning.
I’d had every intention of just getting dressed and leaving another pile of cash for the sleeping Hans before we slipped away to find the bank, but Caroline’s delicious detour had meant the hours had played out quite differently.
Hans had offered us the use of Anneke’s shower, a dilapidated-looking device that scarcely managed the job, but we’d accepted thankfully, appreciating the chance to clean up before we donned the remaining clothes we’d brought with us.
Over coffee and a few of the cookies Andrew had given us, our unusually friendly driver had given me directions to the branch I wanted, while Caroline insisted on stripping our bedsheets.
By the time we’d started the long walk into the center of the city, we were both upbeat, holding hands, laughing, and chatting like any regular couple.
But we weren’t like other couples, were we?
We never would be.
Our love had been created in the dirt and ash of crippling authoritarianism. It would take time to discover how it bloomed in the light of the better days I hoped lay ahead.
“Guten Morgen, sir.” A young clerk from the bank stepped forward, his attention running up and down the length of our attire before returning to my face. “Mein Name ist Anton. Kann ich Ihnen helfen?”
He was asking if he could assist us, but something about his conceited smirk riled me. I’d dealt with my fair share of cocky young men before, but it had been a long time since I wasn’t their commanding officer, able to demand their cooperation without complaint.
“Ja, ich habe ein Schlie?fach in Ihren Tresoren, Anton.” Informing the judgmental prick about my deposit box, I switched back to my native tongue. “I want to access it now, please.”
“At this bank, sir?” Yet again, his focus flitted between Caroline and me, resting on the bag slung over my shoulder.
It contained what little cash we had left, my gun, our dirty clothes, and the remaining cookies we hadn’t already devoured.
Evidently, we weren’t dressed the way his usual customers were, and a quick glance around at the other clients confirmed the disparity. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” My sigh was terse, and Caroline’s breathing accelerated at its resonance. All those weeks of training her meant she’d become attuned to my moods. She understood my body language better than anyone. “I’m sure if you can’t help, your manager can.”
He couldn’t have been older than twenty-five. Hell, I’d had younger guys ready to lay down their lives for me back home.
“Please be assured, I can best assist you, Mr...” Anton paused, waiting for me to offer my name.
“You don’t need my name.” I stared at his faltering expression. “I know my account number, and I believe your vaults use retina-scan technology for digital identity authorization.”
“Yes, indeed, sir.” The fool seemed surprised at my knowledge, as if I shouldn’t have known about the security provision at the bank I’d chosen to host my most important possessions. “Please follow me.”
He turned on his heel, and I headed after him, pulling Caroline along at my side as he led us past the counters to a shiny chrome elevator.
“We’ll need to travel down to the vaults, sir.” He paused to press the relevant button. “There, you’ll need to answer a few more questions. Can I offer you both a drink while you get access to the vault?”
“Access?” My tone was increasingly incredulous.
I wasn’t used to having to justify myself, and the idea of jumping through hoops to retrieve my own things was exasperating.
“I trusted your bank to look after my private property, and I don’t expect to be blocked from that pursuit at every possible turn. ”
“Of course not, sir.” The clerk shifted his weight, looking uncomfortable for the first time since he’d offered to help me. “I only meant that—”
“I’d like tea,” Caroline interjected with a guilty smile. “Sorry to interrupt, but you did offer us a drink.”
“Certainly,” the clerk replied. “Let me arrange that while you travel down to the vaults. My colleague, Claude, will be there to help you.”
I glanced her way as the elevator doors slid open, steering her inside the mirrored cubicle.
“Very clever, little girl,” I mumbled as the doors closed, finally ridding me of Anton’s smug expression.
“I don’t know what you mean, Sir.” Her eyebrow arched as, smiling, she met my eyes.
“Your little distraction technique.” Drawing her closer, I ran my fingers through her hair as the elevator lurched into life.
“I like tea.” Her lips curled. “And it’s been a long time since I was allowed any.”
“True.” Caffeine was the least of the things the new order had deprived her of. “But I can’t help thinking there was an ulterior motive.”
“I just sensed you were getting irate.” She reached her arms around my neck, clinging to me as we descended. “You’re not in charge of everyone you meet anymore, Sir.”
“Shrewd of you to notice.” I chuckled, knowing she was right.
After so many years in authority, I’d developed something of a God complex. Life in the real world was going to take some getting used to.
“Just relax, Sir.” Her tone was imploring. “You’re going to get what you want. You always get what you want.”
Grazing my lips over her mouth, my fingers tightened in her tresses. “Thank you for your advice, little girl.”
My tone was sardonic, but I might actually have meant the words. Life was going to be a lot smoother with Caroline by my side.
I released her as the doors slid open to reveal another man with his palm outstretched and waiting.
“Willkommen, willkommen.” He ushered us into the space beside him as he grasped my hand. “Ich bin Claude. You are here about your deposit box, sir?”
“That’s right.”
I preferred Claude immediately, his maturity assuring me that we were finally in good hands. There was no judgment in his eyes, and he oozed a sense of professionalism that Anton had badly lacked.
“And you know your account number, sir?”
“I do.”
Wrapping a protective arm around Caroline, I guided her into the carpeted lobby. We might have been a hundred feet below street level, but the plush interior surrounding the bank’s vaults was more upscale than anything I’d seen in the chic entrance.
“Please.” Claude gestured ahead. “Follow me to our waiting area. I believe there are drinks waiting for you there.”
“That was fast!” Caroline joked as he led us across the red, thick-pile rug. “I only just asked for tea.”
Claude smiled. “We like to look after our clients.”
“It’s appreciated.” I liked the way Caroline felt valued there. After years of servitude and degradation, she deserved the small acts that proved she was more than worthy.
“Here.” Claude motioned to two enormous leather sofas, which were positioned at either side of a vast glass table.
Sitting on the tabletop was a silver tray containing two china teacups and saucers, an intricately decorated teapot, and a matching jug containing milk. “Would either of you like sugar?”
“We’re sweet enough already, thank you.” Caroline grinned as she perched on the edge of one of the large, cushioned seats and pulled the tray closer.
“I’ll start the authentication process while you take tea, sir.” Crossing the floor to the sleek-looking counter at the other end of the space, Claude nodded in my direction.
I took a seat beside Caroline, who’d already poured us two cups of the steaming beverage. “I didn’t ask for a cup,” I reminded her wryly.
“But Claude’s arranged it for us.” That same playful glimmer shone in her eyes. “It would be rude not to.”
“Right.” I took the saucer she passed, sipping at the tea while Claude busied himself behind the counter.
“We’ll need you to put your account details into this, sir.” He returned, flashing a device around the size of a mobile phone. Like the gadget I’d thrown into the sea on our crossing, its screen was large and featured a virtual keyboard.
Sliding the saucer onto the glass table, I took the device from Claude and waited as the screen lit up, prompting me in German for my details.
“Can you speak German, sir?” Claude inquired as he withdrew.
“Ich kann, danke.” Inputting the required numbers, I mirrored his smile.
“Sehr gut. Very good, sir.” His hands slid behind his back as he watched me. “The device will now prompt you for your fingerprint identification. We’ll require retina scanning before entry to the vault.”
“I understand.” My attention flitted fleetingly to Caroline, who appeared to be relishing every drop of her hot tea. “I’ll require my associate here to have entry with me. Will that be a problem?”
Asking for permission to do anything stuck in my throat, but it was better to make the request then than be denied later.
“Of course, sir. It’s your deposit box. So long as you are content to share the details, then we are happy to facilitate.”
“Danke.” The bleeping device drew my focus its way again, and seeing the prompt for authentication, I pressed the fingertip of my right index finger where it instructed, waiting as the technology scanned and acknowledged me.
“Sehr gut.” Claude was on hand to relieve me of the device, then, perusing the details on the screen, he nodded my way. “This way, Mr. Harper.”
Having spent the last day trying to conceal our identities, it was disconcerting to hear my name, but I understood that inputting my account numbers would have produced my personal details.
“Ready?” Rising from my seat, I held out a hand for Caroline.
“But I haven’t finished!” Her protest was delivered in a teasing tone, and she giggled as she reached for my fingers.
The sound of her impish laughter danced in my ears.
In all the time I’d known her, I’d barely heard her laugh, let alone with such childish vigor.
Such genuine happiness was only another example of the things she’d been forced to sacrifice so men like me and Ian could have our way, the thought jarring through me as she met my gaze.
“There will be time to finish afterward,” Claude promised her before turning and pressing his palm onto the security device located on the wall behind him. “Follow me, please.”
We turned at his advice, watching as the wall slid open before Claude.
“Wow!” Caroline shook her head. “That’s very impressive. It reminds me of an office I used to work in once.”
She threw me a deliberate glance, her meaning clear to me, even if Claude was none the wiser. The last time either of us had seen a partition slide away to reveal a room behind it was the final occasion we’d been to my office at Fortorus.
“Our security is first-class.” The pride in Claude’s voice suggested it was a matter of some importance to him. I was glad he felt that way. I paid the place a fortune to take care of my possessions, and it mattered to me that he cared. “This way, please.”