Chapter 3 - Kristopher
I’m pacing up and down my living room and my coffee is getting cold on the bar top near the wide glass patio doors.
I’m on edge. My fists are clenching and unclenching, and it feels like there’s a massive knot stuck right between my shoulder blades.
It keeps getting worse the longer this situation drags on.
It’s the first time that my father’s silence has bothered me. Usually, I’d be thrilled to have a break from him, to not have to deal with his bullshit, but something's different now.
It’s been over a week since I told him I wouldn’t marry the Koskos sister, and he hasn’t said a word. No calls. No messages. No visits. No arguments. Nothing.
It's making me incredibly uneasy.
I turn and walk back along the wooden floors, pacing, relentless pacing matching the looping thoughts in my head.
There’s only one logical reason for him being so quiet, and that’s that he must be up to something. He’s busy with some grand scheme, and I’m sitting in the dark.
But what? What is he doing? What has he got planned? And why the hell do none of my spies know anything?
I don’t know what direction to look in to figure it all out.
I had some of my men start investigating Ali Koskos to find out if there are any previous ties he might have to my father, but so far I’ve found nothing.
In fact, I can’t even figure out where my father is at the moment.
How can I plan my next move, or prepare for whatever the hell he has planned, if I have no fucking idea what’s going on?
My phone rings, and I grab it off the bar counter, hoping for some news to ease my racing thoughts, but it’s Jess calling. Nothing to do with work.
“Hi,” I answer, trying to hide the stress in my voice.
But when she replies, I can immediately hear the stress in hers.
“Kris, something's wrong,” she blurts out.
“What?” I growl, every hair on my body prickling with tension.
“It’s Georgie. We planned to video call tonight at nine, and I’ve been dialing her number for the past hour straight, and she’s not answering.”
My stomach knots, my heart beating faster against my ribcage. The thought of something happening to Georgie instantly provokes a very dangerous side of me.
“Is she maybe in class, or some kind of study group?” I ask, hoping that my instincts are wrong, that this has nothing to do with my father.
“No, you don’t understand. If she sets a call with me, she doesn’t miss it.
And she didn’t have a study group this evening.
She was going to study alone in her dorm room.
I’m telling you, something’s wrong. I can feel it.
” She sounds on the verge of tears. I know how close she is with Georgie.
The quiver in her voice is all the evidence I need to understand how serious this is.
Apart from that, I know Georgie is reliable. She cares deeply about those who are close to her—about everyone, actually—and she wouldn’t leave my sister to stress like this without a good reason…or if something bad has happened to her.
My sister’s friendship with her was always my cover for helping Georgie. I told Jess it was because if Georgie meant that much to her, then she was like family to us, and we should keep her safe, look after her.
Jess has no idea how I actually feel about her best friend.
About the limerence.
My obsession.
“Jess, don’t worry, okay? I’m going to look into it. I’ll take care of this,” I assure her, even though I’m terrified I might be too late.
This is what my father warned me about. It has to be.
This is what he was hinting at.
If he’s done something to her, I’ll never forgive him.
For my sake…Jess's. Georgie means too much to both of us.
“Please, Kris, I’m having a breakdown here. I need to know she’s okay.”
“I promise,” I tell Jess. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find her.”
We don’t chat any more than that. Jess wants me to get right on it, and she hangs up after a very brief goodbye.
As soon as that call ends, I make another.
I have a team of private guards assigned to Georgie.
She has no idea about it, nor does Jess.
But they track her movements on a daily basis and report back to me with updates.
It’s how I can stay close to her, even though I can’t have her.
Yet. She also doesn’t know I pulled a lot of strings and planted a lot of seeds to get her to move from San Diego to Arizona State University.
I wanted her closer to me. But I made sure it was a benefit to her.
The phone rings a few times, and my tension grows with each second that passes.
“Sir,” Rogan answers, his voice gruff.
“Where is she?” I demand right away.
“Sir, we’re trying to locate her now. We thought she was in her dorm room. We saw her going inside after class, and then…”
“You lost her?” I yell into the phone, cutting him off. “Are you telling me you lost her?”
“Sir, she was in her dorm; her schedule stated that she would be there for the night. The guys on duty just left for a few minutes to grab some food…”
“Are you fucking kidding me? They went to get food? They don’t get paid to eat. They can do that after their fucking shift is over.” I’m livid. My body is shaking with rage and fear for what might have happened to her.
“Sir, I assure you, we’re working on it now.”
“That’s not good enough,” I snarl. “You should never have lost her in the first place.”
Rogan is quiet on the other end of the line. He knows he’s in deep shit.
I press my fingers against my eyes, my mind racing. “Is her phone there?” I ask.
“Yes, sir. There was…uh…a struggle,” he says nervously.
“Rogan, you better fucking find her,” I growl, then hang up.
I can’t believe this is happening. How the hell did my father find out about her? How did he know to use her against me?
***
Over the next two days, I’m in a living hell as I try to piece the puzzle together and find out where she is. I’ve barely slept, I can’t eat, I’m completely losing my mind. And poor Jess calls me every hour, begging for an update, and I have nothing to tell her except that I’m still looking.
I’m about ready to put a ridiculously high price on my father’s head just so that I can find out where he is when, finally, I get word of an event he's attending. The type of event only the worst kind of people go to, so it’s no surprise that he’ll be there.
And while I hope the event itself has nothing to do with Georgie’s disappearance, I at least have confirmation that my father will be there, and I can confront him.
I have a direction to move in, and with that, my focus becomes razor-sharp.
It’s past midnight when I step into the underground venue hidden beneath a warehouse out in the desert. Thick smoke billows from my left as an older man puffs on a cigar. Men stand around holding whiskey tumblers and mumbling to each other.
Deep bass rumbles through the air while red lighting casts an ominous glow over the crowd. I push through the sea of bodies, searching for my father.
The auction hasn’t started yet. But it will soon, so he should be here.
There’s no way to know what will be on auction tonight. It could be anything—art, property, weapons, businesses…and even people. And the bid doesn’t have to be money. You can offer anything, as long as the owner of the item wants what you’re offering, the trade can be made.
That means you don’t have to be rich to win. You just have to own something that another man desires. Because of that, the scum of scum come to events like these, all hoping that maybe whatever precious treasure they have might be traded for something even better.
I hate this part of the underworld, this grimy filth. Rich and poor mixed together, bound by their immorality.
I grimace as I push past a tall, skeletal-looking man with greased-back hair. He smiles, one of his teeth shining gold as the light catches it. He’s the auctioneer. Everyone knows him, although I’d be happy to remove him from the face of the earth.
I’ve only ever been to one of his auctions, apart from this one, and it was an accident. I didn’t know what I was walking into when I accepted the invitation. It didn’t take me long to realize that it wasn’t my scene, and once I caught on, I left.
Being back here now is only out of sheer desperation to reach my father. If I had any other options, I would’ve taken them.
I make my way around the room, searching for him, but also plotting the layout and who is in attendance. I don’t want any surprises. I like to be aware of everything going on around me.
I stop and chat with a few men that I know, small talk, not people I particularly like, and seeing them here has me making a mental note not to do business with them in the future.
The auction is about to start when my eyes fall onto Ali Koskos, standing quietly near the front of the room, close to the auctioneer's stage.
My heart pulls tight in my chest, and my jaw clenches. That is no coincidence. But where the hell is my father?
I excuse myself from the conversation and move closer to Ali as the auctioneer takes the stage and starts welcoming everyone, but I keep my distance. At some point, my father will arrive, and I imagine he’ll be here to speak to Ali. I’d rather eavesdrop than make myself known yet.
Bright lights shine onto the stage. The crowd turns to face the auctioneer, the music drops lower, and a hushed, excited silence falls over the room as he announces the first item.
A small island off the coast of Portugal. Private. Completely secluded and fully secured.
Men argue over it, making their offers. Money, business shares…
My eyes are on Koskos, on the back of his head, burning steel into his skull, trying to read his thoughts.
The island is traded for a very large, central building in the middle of Manhattan.
The next item is brought onto the stage. A rare, vintage sword.
The auction continues. A shipping container of explosives traded for drugs. A mansion in the Bahamas, traded for a company.
I wait, but still my father doesn’t show up.
My heart sinks when the next item is brought onto the stage. A girl, tied to a chair, a sack over her head. Fuck. I hate these people.
“And now, we have this beautiful creature.” The auctioneer gestures to the girl, and one of his assistants pulls the sack off her head.
I want to vomit.
Georgie looks terrified, but she looks doped up and out of it, too.
Her eyes swim in and out of focus, and her head keeps dropping as she fights for consciousness.
Her mouth is gagged, her hair is a tangled, wild mess.
They’ve dressed her in an evening gown, but it looks dirty and torn as though she was fighting them every step of the way.
Her eyes are wild as they dart over the faces of the men gawking at her beauty that still shines through despite her disheveled appearance.
“I have a yacht, fully equipped with staff,” someone shouts.
The auctioneer looks towards Ali Koskos, who has moved right to the edge of the stage near Georgie, but he shakes his head. He doesn’t want a yacht.
And he’s her fucking ‘owner’. He owns Georgie in this exchange.
I can’t fucking believe this. He’s the one who took her?
Where the fuck is my father? What the fuck is going on?
I shove people aside, storming towards him, rage, a ferocious desire to tear him limb from limb, pulsing through me like fire.
“Ali Koskos,” I say calmly, my voice not giving away even a hint of what’s going on inside my body. I have one hand in my pocket, and I cock my head to the side as I look him over. “Is there something specific you were hoping to gain this evening, with regards to your trade?”
He turns to face me, his eyes like gravel running over my skin as he looks me up and down.
“Yes, Kristopher Ilyn. I want territory,” he muses, folding his arms across his chest.
“Any particular territory?” I ask, knowing I’d give anything for her, that her value is limitless to me. That I’d trade my life if it meant she would be safe.
“Are you interested in trading from your territory? Now that is something I’d be happy to consider,” Ali says, his words thick and slow.
“Perhaps,” I reply, my tone void of emotion.
“State your offer,” he says.
I swallow, my throat dry as I glance back towards Georgie. My body becomes even more tense when her wild eyes lock with mine and her brows shoot up in confusion. She’s crying. And I want nothing more than to lift her from the chair she’s tied to and carry her out of here, cradled against my chest.
I blow a huff of air through my nose and drag my eyes off her.
“Rio Vista. I have several warehouses there, somewhat secluded, and an excellent location for most operations to function away from the watchful eye of the law.”
He smirks, one corner of his mouth curling upwards. His dark eyes are narrowed as he stares at me. “Near New River Road? There’s nothing out there,” he scoffs.
“That’s what most believe. And as I said, that’s what makes the territory so valuable. There’s even a private landing strip, making deliveries that much easier.” My blood is pooling with desperation, but you wouldn’t know it, looking at me. I act as calm as a flat lake on a windless day.
The auctioneer is watching us closely, and when Ali Koskos drags his eyes off me and tilts his chin towards the skeletal man, the man smiles his gold, rat-like smile.
Relief slams into me.
He’s accepted my offer.