49. She’s Unhinged

Seven months after Leonie left

Dom

Chris was talking fast, presenting something or other to the full conference room. There were a lot of numbers and charts whenever I looked up from my phone. Where before work had just been a hobby and I oversaw the company, now I fluctuated between being overbearing or unbothered, efficient or a hindrance.

Leonie hadn’t posted in seven days.

Not a story, not a picture. She hadn’t so much as liked a tweet.

Sam Yun hadn’t either.

They were both on radio silence. I stalked their Instagram profiles on fake accounts, hacked into her bank statements, her phone. The moment she left, she started paying for things with cash. She got a new phone every week. Every measure she could take against me, she did.

Chris’ intern was sick of me asking him to track each location she posted. She never stayed anywhere for too long. And, despite the construction of Tillo Tower becoming the new Yun Hotel and Casino, Leo and Sam never seemed to be in England.

This wasn’t the first time they had ghosted the world. They would both disappear without a trace a couple of times a month. A few days later, he’d be posting her on a yacht in a tiny bikini, singing, swaying her hips with a bottle of champagne.

But it had been a week.

Firdman had been released a few days before she went on this recent radio silence. I hated the thought of her hurting and being unable to reach out to her.

Every account I hacked to talk to her, she blocked.

When I looked up from her posts, always double checking for any sign of drug use or spiralling, Chris was the only person remaining in the room. He sat opposite me across the wide table, a brow cocked. “Mate, I can’t see you like this anymore.”

“I’m not like anything.”

“On your good days, you’re great but an empty shell. On bad days, you’re nothing but wrought with emotion.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, swilling my water, wishing it was something stronger. “Careful.”

Chris shook his head. “What is it now? Going to book a flight to Morocco because that’s where she was in a picture she posted an hour ago? Or, no, the last time was in South Africa, wasn’t it? She’s clearly posting places after she’s left them. She doesn’t want to be found, Dom.”

“You don’t know anything, Chris.”

“Bullshit,” he snapped. He pulled out his gun and placed it on the table. “With the Belov power slipping, you need to be on your A-game, you and Issy.”

My sister had hardly spoken to me the first couple of months other than to sneer that she was glad Leo had left me.

But I knew she missed her. She’d moved back into Mum and Dad’s permanently and on my birthday, she’d still made me an awful cake. Covered in frogs.

Then we’d cried together, half-drunk.

“You’ve got to take over. Your dad—”

“Save me the lecture,” I groaned.

“Dom, I’m serious. Things are not good. I’m worried. Half his men are flaking. He’s going to have to make a stand and you’re going to get dragged into it. You need to get over this.”

With heavy eyes, I looked over my friend. His face was creased with worry, his body language open and honest as he begged me.

My security app dinged. The gate of Leonie’s childhood home was open, a Mustang drove through to park directly in front of the house.

And there she was, stepping out of the car as the gate closed behind her.

As quickly as my thumbs could tap, I switched to the camera on the porch to see more of her.

She’d cut her hair to her shoulders, and her natural waves now had more of a curl. Her dark red coat came past her knees, the one she had worn that night when she tried to sneak out to her ex-boyfriend’s. But under her coat were leather trousers and thigh-high boots. She climbed the steps steadily, with determination, unlike the last time she had been with me.

I was so focused on her walk I nearly missed what was in her hand.

A gun.

My heart was in my throat as I stood, scrambling to blindly find my keys in the laptop case, not taking my eyes off her.

“What is it?” Chris asked, already at my side. He handed the keys to me.

“Doesn’t want to be found, huh?” I said and angled the phone so he could see. Just as Leo looked directly at me through the camera. She seemed tired, her expression blank. Then she lifted the gun and shot the camera perfectly.

“Doesn’t want to be found,” Chris confirmed, but I was already on my way out the door. “You’re not going there, are you?” he called, jogging to catch up with me.

The lift was taking too long to get up to this floor.

“Dom, she’s unhinged. You can’t go alone.”

“It’s Leonie,” I said. “I’m not in any danger.”

“You think you’re not. You’re not going alone.”

“Chris—”

“I’m sending a team. Precautionary. Get the gun out of her hands and I’ll disband them, but—”

The lift dinged and I walked into it, going from camera to camera on the app, looking for any sign of her. I hadn’t installed cameras inside. Why hadn’t I installed cameras inside?

Why did she have that gun? She hadn’t — she didn’t mean to— she wouldn’t do that, would she?

So I called the last person I wanted to talk to—the man she had picked.

As my phone dialled, I told Chris, “It’ll be fine. But this is private. You can send a team, but they stay outside.”

“Yes, sir,” he said and the doors closed.

“What do you want?” Sam said on the phone with a sigh. Soft pop music played in the background.

“Why aren’t you with Leonie?”

“Oh, I am with Leonie. In every way—”

“Yun, why are you not with her right now? Do you know where she is?”

“She flew back home this week. I have some business, but I’m joining her—”

“She is at her house with a gun, Sam.”

Sam had the audacity to laugh. “You really don’t actually know her, do you? Always underestimate her. Yes, Leonie has a gun. When has she not had one on her? With her line of work—” he stopped himself. “She’s fine, Dom.”

But her expression was blank, as if she felt nothing. She had gone there. She hadn’t wanted me to see.

“You really are a piece of shit.”

He laughed again. “After what you did, I hope she shoots you.”

And he hung up.