Chapter 18
Kian
Isat behind my desk, the low hum of my computer filling the quiet as Kingston Ashford’s email glowed on the screen.
The blue light reflected faintly off the polished wood and I set my glasses on the desk, pinching the bridge of my nose as I took in this latest revelation.
Amir was seated across from me, relaxed but alert, one ankle resting on his knee like this was just another routine briefing.
“You should let me collect those men,” he said for the third time.
We both knew he couldn’t leave Albania without the risk of getting picked up by Interpol, and that was the last thing we needed.
“I’ll deploy other resources to retrieve them,” I replied, keeping my voice even. “Once they cross into Albania, they’re yours. You can prep them for me then.”
Amir studied me for a moment, dark eyes sharp, before nodding. He wasn’t thrilled, but he accepted it.
A faint murmur drifted down the hallway, and my body reacted before my mind did. Every muscle locked, breath slowing as I listened, irrationally convinced that if I moved, the sound would vanish.
I didn’t want to admit it, but I’d been waiting—actually waiting—for Sophie to come out of her room. The anticipation had been buzzing under my skin, stupid and eager, like a schoolboy with his first crush, not a man who’d built an empire on discipline and control.
I shook my head, irritation coiling tight in my chest. This was ridiculous. I was too old for this nonsense, too self-aware to be standing frozen by footsteps and hope. I needed to pull my head out of my ass and remember exactly who I was supposed to be.
Her protector.
I forced my attention back to Amir.
“Why are you looking so smug?” I asked.
We’d been close long before my Albanian grandfather died.
When I finally took over and appointed Amir as my right-hand man and my personal bodyguard, I realized there was no one I trusted more.
That trust, however, did not extend to him acting like my keeper or sitting there grinning like he knew my thoughts better than I did.
Naturally, he looked completely unbothered. “You’re too obsessed with that redhead’s chaos.”
“You’re really asking to be shot,” I muttered.
He lifted both hands in surrender, amusement flashing in his eyes. It was a silent I rest my case gesture.
“It’s easy to recognize the signs when you’re a man obsessed yourself,” I retorted wryly. “With a certain brunette that doesn’t take your shit.”
He shot me a blank look. “Don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t,” I said, deciding not to rib him on the topic of his obvious infatuation with Dina and their secret rendezvous. Instead, I pressed the intercom. “Sonya?”
A minute later, the door opened and my housekeeper stepped inside.
“How is our guest doing?” I asked.
“She’s unpacking,” Sonya replied, straight and to the point. “Will that be all?”
“Yes. Please make sure she has everything she needs.”
She bowed her head and closed the door softly behind her.
Amir didn’t even try to hide his chuckle. “I really, really rest my case.”
“God, you’re really, really annoying. Either that or you want to experience pain?”
He shrugged. “I’m a masochist like that. Once, I was with this dominatrix—”
“Jesus, Amir. Spare me the details,” I snapped. “Some things are best kept private.”
“If you say so, boss.”
I shook my head, dragging a hand through my hair before leaning back in my chair. I could hear the soft splash of waves against the shoreline through the open windows, the feeling too calm for the mess unfolding inside these walls.
“We’ll need eyes on Sophie at all times,” I said. “No gaps.”
Amir’s expression sobered. “Does Kristoff know she got tangled up with Black Oil?”
“My guess is no.” My gaze drifted back to Kingston’s email, the list of names scrolling through my mind. “He never mentioned it.”
Jacqueline was related to the brothers running the Black Oil Syndicate, but her connection to them had been dormant for decades, almost as if she’d been cast out.
“But he was married to that woman,” Amir pointed out. “There’s no way he doesn’t know where his ex-wife comes from.”
I shrugged. “I’ll call him. See what he has to say.”
Amir snorted. “It’s freaky. He divorces that mess, then his best friend—”
“Ex-best friend,” I cut in.
“Whatever. He marries her, and like icing on the cake, Kristoff’s cousin gets pulled in with his ex-best friend and his ex-wife too? That’s some twisted shit.”
He wasn’t wrong. The triangle had turned into something messier. A quadrangle? Was that even a word?
“Go coordinate Kingston’s delivery of our package,” I said. Jacqueline and her entourage would pay for what they’d done. “Handle our friend who thought it was a good idea to touch our guest. I’ll call Kristoff and see what he knows.”
Amir stood immediately, and headed for the door. His hand rested on the door handle before he paused. “Don’t go daydreaming about your guest.”
His laughter lingered in the air as the door shut behind him.
Bastard.
Although I knew the moment the door shut behind him, his focus snapped into place. That was what I admired most about him—once he locked on to a task, nothing distracted him.
I should focus on work, but instead my gaze kept darting to the door, resisting the urge to go find Sophie.
Instead, I put my glasses back on and read through the email with the list of names. The connection to Black Oil was unexpected and posed a slight hiccup, but there was no chance in hell that I would let them go unpunished.
So, I typed up an email.
To: GhostKA@
From: KC@
Proceed with the plan as initially discussed. Please confirm the package arrival timeline.
I pressed send and the soft swish of the email leaving my outbox sliced through the stagnant silence of the office.
For a moment, I stared at the screen, watching the sent notification fade, as if it might pull the weight of the decision along with it, but it didn’t.
Next, I reached for my phone and dialed Kristoff. The line rang as I leaned back in my chair, eyes fixed on the closed door.
The call connected on the fourth ring.
“Hello, Kian,” Kristoff greeted, the sound of children’s laughter and music in the background.
“Is this a good time?” I asked.
“Yes, hold on.” I heard shuffling and a door being closed. “Okay, I can talk now. Is this about Sophie?” he asked.
“Yes, but also about Sienna.”
Another pause, longer this time.
“What does Sienna have to do with this?” he finally asked.
“Your ex,” I started slowly. “She had a hand in Sienna’s kidnapping last year.
She cornered Sophie in January, admitting to it.
Jacqueline didn’t like Sophie’s inquiries into Jonathan’s murder.
The reason your cousin left is because Jacqueline threatened her at gunpoint and promised to hurt your family. ”
“What?” Shock traveled over the line. “How can that be? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Sienna’s hacking into my brother’s bank account was just a coincidence,” I continued. “It would seem your ex-wife delivered her as both payback and a warning to Sophie.”
“For what?”
“I guess taking her husband.”
“Jacqueline lost Jonathan all on her own,” he said, vehemence in his tone. “She didn’t need any help in that department.”
“No argument there.”
“I’m going to fucking kill that woman,” he growled.
“No, I will,” I said coolly.
Kristoff was a clean-cut businessman, the kind who wore his respectability like a tailored suit. His hands were clean, his conscience preserved behind contracts and polite smiles. He navigated the world through boardrooms and negotiations.
I was nothing like him.
I had already crossed lines I could never return from, and my hands were stained by my father and the choices I’d made long before Sophie entered my life.
“Why didn’t you tell me that Jacqueline had ties to Black Oil?”
He let out an incredulous breath. “Because they cut ties with her a long time ago.”
I frowned. “That doesn’t make sense since she built an entourage of men from that organization to bully Sophie.”
Kristoff exhaled. “I’m telling you, that cannot be.”
“Well, I’ll find out soon,” I told him. “I’m having everyone involved in what happened to both girls brought to Albania.”
“I should be there,” he insisted. “Or bring Sophie home.”
I stiffened.
“No.” There was no fucking way I’d let Sophie out of my sight. “You should be with your family. I’ll let you know what I find out.”
Kristoff remained quiet and I knew he wasn’t happy about it. Well, tough shit.
It might make me a hypocrite, but I refused to risk Sophie’s safety, and until I handled this threat, she was staying with me.
“You’ll keep her safe, right?”
I closed my eyes for a moment.
“With my life,” I vowed. “Do you need help with Sienna’s security?”
“I got that handled. And, Kian?”
“Hm.”
“Thank you.”
The line went quiet, like both of us were waiting for the other to say something.
“I want Jacqueline to suffer,” Kristoff suddenly said. “For what she put Sienna and Sophie through.”
“You can count on that,” I said, then ended the call.