Chapter 9
JORDAN
IT’S BEEN FOUR DAYS SINCE I FIRST HAD THE LADY THROWN IN THE CRAZY CELL.
Five days since I’ve had my mind off her for even a second. I’d taken to watching her on my auxiliary system on my desk, an unhealthy habit I seemed to have no control over. She fascinated me to no end with even the smallest most normal things like walking around or the less normal things like trying to see if she could bounce off the walls. That was definitely a sight I realized her presence had grown on me, despite the deplorable circumstances. For the first time in years, I’d felt a twinge of something when I ordered her execution and I had to shut it down immediately. She had to go. I refuse to open myself up to more frequent attacks from outsiders, which is bound to happen if they learn I’ve been letting people live these days. I glanced at the auxiliary again, watched her eat the food I’d had laced with a small dose of poison. It was too little to kill her, but she would definitely feel its effects. She’d grow weaker and disoriented and for some reason, hungrier.
I knew she’d been using the times food was brought in for her to gauge the time and day, and I planned to fuck that up too by having them bring in the food at the most random times, further confusing her.
I had also given orders to have the crazy room taken down and burned when she was gone.
Letting out the smallest sigh. I put it aside and turned back to the files in front of me. I had other problems.
When you run a vast empire like I do, problems are inevitable. I had fingers in almost every business there is with my headquarters based (for sentimental reasons I don’t acknowledge) here in the Caribbean island of Puerto Rico where I’d spent most of my childhood.
The current problem was a trickle of money leaving my company’s accounts and flowing down before disappearing somewhere. I tried tracing it through the books but at some point, it just vanished without a trace.
It was a paltry sum, and hardly put a dent in the company resources but still, I like to account for all my money. Frustrated. I made to press the intercom button then remembered I didn’t have a personal assistant anymore.
Like a moth drawn to a flame, my eyes and thoughts strayed to the lady on my auxiliary. I shouldn’t even call her a lady. ladies I knew had people at their beck and call and wouldn’t so much as get their coffee themselves much less take risks or put themselves in danger. Ladies I knew drugged their clients‘ drinks and made away with the contents of their pockets. Ladies 1 knew gave up and started to cry when they were
caught to get some sympathy. She was no ordinary lady.
Melanie. The name resonated in my head as I stared at her passed–out figure. It was sweet and light, completely at odds with the spitfire I’d come to know. I picked up the slim file I had on her and perused it though every detail contained in it was already burned into my mind
It listed her as Melanie Hayes, a clerk at the stock exchange in New York. The ID photo showed her with ugly brown hair that could only be another wig, glasses and a slightly nervous I’m–so–ordinary smile.
There was more under the surface. I could feel it.
As if on cue, there was a brief knock on my door and Blaine walked in with the two men I’d put on her case and I straightened as one of them dropped a thicker file on my desk before backing away. My hand stealthily crept over to my auxiliary system and activated the screensaver as I arched my brow, waiting for someone to speak.
“This was everything we could find on her, sir, and it is a lot. She’s no ordinary thief just hoping to get lucky sir.“one of them spoke, looking slightly terrified which amused me.
I dismissed the men and carried the hefty file over to the sofa, eager to delve into this puzzle and solve it once and for all. Blaine took a seat beside me as 1 opened it, the first page a newspaper clipping with the headline jumping out at me
“Het in Amsterdam!
It proceeded to state how a thief broke into the Rijksmuseum and carted away a famous Monet painting and a few others. My brows rose up as I kept turning pages, unsurprised but still unable to believe my eyes.
“Holy shit” Blaine breathed out, his eyes wide
“She was the one on the news. The big German heist.”
Chapter 9
I knew what he was talking about. The news of the German politician who had been scammed and stripped of most if not all of his possessions had been widely publicized,
I’d felt nothing for him at the time because according to the information I had on him, he’d dealt in child trafficking and had “sampled” some of them too. I’d planned to take him down and do exactly what she did, only legitimately, so my only reaction at the time was mild annoyance that someone else beat me to it.
Other information that wasn’t published or broadcast was in here too. Rigged games and scams in a variety of cities and countries. Photos of her were also provided. Or at least photos of women who were supposedly her.
She was good at changing her appearance to suit the situation. I finally understood what she meant when she asked me which name I wanted; there were so many different identities. In one of them, she was even a countess
Lawr
enforcement agencies believed they were looking for a gang, not knowing it was just one superbly clever woman.
I closed the file and leaned back on the sofa, my mind working double time. She was no doubt skilled in combat, weaponry, knowing when to blend in or stand out and very smart too. I had agents who were all of those things, but I started to wonder if killing her was the smartest option.
“You know, we could really use someone like her around here.” Blaine said and I glanced over to see him looking everywhere but at me.
Blaine had never agreed with my decision to end her, for reasons unknown to me.
“Think about it. She’s the complete package. Instead of sending four or five guys on a mission, you could just send her.
Cost–effective too.”
He continued and I was about to remind him we already had some people like that when he rushed to add “Plus, if she gets killed in your service, it’s no skin off your back seeing as
you wanted her dead anyway.
I smoothed my hand down the glossy cover of the file as I considered this.
He had a point.
“Even if I agree to this, there’s no guarantee she won’t just run if I send her out. She’s got no ties here neither is she loyal to me. I don’t trust her and she doesn’t trust me.” I argued
“You have the upper hand here. I’m sure there are a lot of people who’d pay for her head on a platter.” He argued back. I’m not sure why he wants her alive but I can’t fault his logic. I knew she wasn’t ordinary before, but now I know she is, in fact, a warrior. And warriors have always been in high demand.
Chapter 10
