Chapter Eleven
The Harris Hotel, in the centre of the city district, is known for housing dignitaries and businessmen from around the world.
If there’s an official event in Harrison, it’s held here.
To describe the building as grand is a serious understatement.
It’s palatial. Four limestone structures are linked by a glass and iron atrium, and it all dates back to when the city first developed as an industrial hub.
It’s the jewel in the city’s crown, and some say the inspiration for the construction of the Vale; a maze of concrete streets interconnected by tunnels and buttressed by four ambitiously tall towers.
So, when Aiden pulls up outside and allows the doorman to greet us like we’re guests, I almost spit feathers.
With my dry-mouthed shock and less than suitable attire, I pull myself together just in time to take Aiden’s outstretched arm. He hands over his keys to a uniformed teen and guides me inside as if I were born to be here. I find my voice somewhere between the reception desk and the central fountain.
“Sylvie’s here?” I whisper.
“She’s been staying here for a couple of nights, yes.”
“Good God. How much does a room in this place cost per night?”
“Ordinarily, not much more than any other hotel in Harrison City.”
“Ordinarily?”
“Let’s just say Sylvie enjoys being the exception to the rule.”
“You make it sound like she rented out the penthouse suite, or something.”
He nods. “The Royal penthouse suite.”
“For real?” My words echo across the foyer. I clear my throat and hurry to catch Aiden at the elevators.
“Yep. The suite isn’t under her name, but she’s been running up room service bills.”
“How did you not notice that expense hitting her credit cards?”
“Good fucking question, Tiger. I’ve been wondering the same thing.
I assume she kept the expenses under the amount Dax set for approval alerts.
” Aiden nods to a kid in a bright red bellhop outfit straight out of the 1920s.
It’s ridiculously ostentatious and, from the way the boy keeps pulling at the neck of his high-collared jacket, uncomfortable too.
The boy shoots a nervous look at Aiden and nods back before vanishing.
I note the interaction and wonder if that is how he figured out Sylvie’s whereabouts.
“How did you trace her here so fast? Do you have spies in every hotel?” I cut my eyes to the retreating boy and raise a brow in question.
Aiden laughs. “No, that’d spread our guys too thin. I pinged all my agents’ phones and got a geolocation on them. After we got nothing from Sylvie’s phone, it occurred to me she usually has her hooks in at least one of my boys. So, I traced their whereabouts instead.”
“And him?” I ask, wondering why the boy virtually ran away.
“We called ahead and let the hotel know we were coming.”
Something Aiden says triggers in my brain…she usually has her hooks in at least one of my boys…He knew about her flings? “So, you are aware she…uh…hooks up with her guards?” I ask, trying and failing to make it sound delicate.
“She told you about it?”
“She mentioned as much when we were shopping. Not directly, but I caught her meaning.”
Aiden takes a deep breath. “Yeah.” He draws the word out long and low. “I’ve had to dismiss a few of them over the years. Looks like I’ll be ditching another one today.”
“For screwing with the client?”
“No, for not informing us that she is safe. I don’t police Sylvie, not now she’s legally an adult.
God knows she’s bored as shit at the house and has no interest in becoming part of Dax’s agenda to clean up the city.
The girl needs to let off steam where she can.
I just prefer to know she’s doing it safely.
I don’t condone my boys getting involved with their clients on a personal level, but currently I’d be a hypocrite to stop them, wouldn’t I?
I just ask that they keep the job as their priority.
Check in. Though after today that will have to change. ”
I watch the numbers flash by across the top of the gold, shimmering door. “And I’m betting you don’t pay them a king’s salary, so he’s not paying for the suite either.”
“No, Connor’s not paid enough to afford this, but he’s about to pay for it.”
We ride the elevator to the top floor, and I use the time to clear my head and expression of anything resembling the awe I’m feeling. This is going to be embarrassing for all of us, and I’d rather not barge in on Sylvie like I’m her mother, but I doubt Aiden is going to let me out of his sight.
The elevator opens onto a beautifully presented reception hallway and faces a pair of floor-to-ceiling double doors. Aiden strides confidently straight at them and knocks twice.
“Your champagne and fruit, Miss,” he calls out in a plummy accent.
My brow kicks up into my hairline. Does he really think she’ll fall for that? Doesn’t he have a key card or something?
Aiden grins at my expression. “They put the order in two minutes before we arrived,” he explains.
“You have her room service hacked?”
Aiden shakes his head but doesn’t take his eyes off the door. “Nothing so dastardly. The hotel was very amenable once we told them we’re her legal guardians and her cards have been cut off.”
“I thought you said nothing so dastardly?”
“Trust me, we could have come down harder. I guess it all depends on what we discover inside.”
The door cracks open. A careless young man, who doesn’t bother to look at Aiden or me, saunters back to the sofa wearing nothing but a towel and casually mumbles, “Bring it in then.”
Aiden remains silent and walks in behind him, so I do the same, slowing to hover discreetly between the wide-open suite door and the sofa. I ready myself for what is sure to be a dressing down for the stupidly overconfident Connor.
What I’m not expecting is the gun Aiden pulls out of a holster inside his jacket, or the semi-crouched stance he takes as he backs toward me again.
The young man still hasn’t looked in our direction.
Aiden shoots a split-second glance at me to ensure he has my attention, then nods at the exit.
He wants me out. I’m not going to argue.
I sneak out and press myself against the wall, near enough to see through the open door.
I get my phone out of my pocket as soon as I can, and I shoot a text to Dax.
Aiden needs backup now. Strange guy in the penthouse. Aiden pulled his gun. Hurry!
“Your tip is on the table by the door.” The sheer arrogance of the man rivals his stupidity. With his back to the door, he sinks into the sofa and slides his arms along the backrest. He continues to ignore Aiden entirely while instructing him to “Just put the food on the table.”
“Now, now, I’m sure your mother didn’t raise you to be so rude,” Aiden mocks coldly.
The man’s head whips around. The shock on his face is fast replaced by a sense of dread as he withdraws into the corner of the couch.
The split-second shift is unsettling. It’s like watching two different men.
Only seconds before, he had lounged with such cocky confidence.
“Who the—?”
“—fuck, am I? Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing,” Aiden quips.
“You’ve—”
“Listen. I’m going to ask you a question, and if I think you’re lying, I’m going to shoot you in the knee. Then I’ll ask again and keep shooting until you tell me what I need to know. If you shout for help, I’ll shoot you in the head. Nod if you understand.”
The man nods.
“Good. Don’t talk unless you’re answering me. Don’t waste words, and I won’t waste bullets. Understand?” Again, the man nods.
“How many people are here?”
“Four.”
“Is one of them Sylvie Trevainne?”
He nods.
“Is her bodyguard another?”
He nods again.
“Then the other guy is with you?”
“Yes.”
“Where is your man now?”
“Asleep. Last room on the mezzanine floor.” He looks up and to his left where a section of ceiling overhangs the main living space.
“Is he alone?”
“Yes.”
“Where is Sylvie?”
“There. That room.” This time the young man nods towards the door on his right.
Aiden circles, with his gun trained on the threat and, I imagine, one wary eye on the mezzanine floor opposite.
He kicks open the door and sidesteps into the room slowly before stepping back out, never moving that line of sight off the threat in the room, no matter how piss-scared the guy might seem.
“Tiger!” Aiden calls. I note he doesn’t use my real name.
“Get in there and barricade the two of you inside. Try to get her to wake up. Don’t come out until you hear me tell you it’s safe.
” I rush inside and through to the room he just opened and lock it behind me.
I don’t spare a glance at the man. I trust Aiden to keep me safe and to know what’s best right now.
My only job is to do exactly as I’m told.
I hear Aiden continue his questioning as I assess the best way to barricade the door.
“Who are you, and why are you here?”
“I…work for Hanson. I…look, man, I’m a glorified babysitter. I didn’t do anything…”
I heave a double dresser along the wall and pin it behind the now locked door. A shot rings out. Followed by a scream. I freeze and hold my breath, waiting for who’ll speak first.
“Get your hands above your head, you stupid fuck!” Aiden yells.
He is followed quickly by a whimpering, snivelling voice lacking all bravado. “You fucking shot me. I’m bleeding!”
“Next time, think twice before reaching for a weapon. I’m not the bluffing type.”
I release the breath I’m holding. Aiden’s alright. Better check on Sylvie.
She’s out cold. Breathing steadily, but even the gunshot didn’t wake her. The bed is a mess of sheets and twisted blankets, but she’s at least wearing a nightdress. Not that it means anything, but even that thin barrier of clothing offers hope that she’s remained unmolested by Hanson’s men.