7. Melissa

CHAPTER 7

MELISSA

FRIDAY AFTERNOON/EARLY EVENING – MARKO, THE SILVER LINING

A s I swung open the heavy door to my building, I turned and waved enthusiastically to Marko, a broad grin lighting up my face. That he wanted to see me again filled me with a thrilling mix of anticipation and nerves. Sure, I knew I should steer clear of romantic entanglements until the mess my biological father had dragged me into was sorted. But come on—Marko was undeniably handsome, with a charm that could disarm anyone. And his kindness and quick thinking during the robbery? That sealed the deal. Passing up his offer would have been foolish.

Despite the unsettling events of the day, I ascended the stairs to my apartment with a buoyant step. Once inside, I meticulously checked and secured every lock, my state-of-the-art security system offering some peace of mind. Yet, as my dad and I were all too aware, if someone wanted to get in, they would.

While changing into more comfy clothes, I replayed the harrowing events of the afternoon in my mind. Lost in my thoughts, I had nearly reached home before noticing my surroundings. A sudden, chilling sense of being watched preceded the sharp yank on my bag from behind. I fought to keep my grip, but the thief's forceful shove sent me sprawling, the impact jarring my elbow as I hit the ground. That's when Marko rushed to my rescue.

"Marko Rominov," I whispered to myself, testing the sound of his name on my lips. I liked it. I was sure Rominov was Russian, and I had detected the tiniest trace of a Russian accent when Marko talked. The memory of his voice sent a warm flush to my cheeks, and I couldn't help but smile at the thought of my sexy saviour.

The street hadn't been busy when the robbery happened, but I was glad at least someone had been there when it occurred and I hadn't had to endure the aftermath alone. The entire ordeal had unfolded in mere seconds, leaving me physically unscathed but emotionally rattled.

Unfortunately, there was no way for either of us to chase the thief as he climbed onto the back of a motorbike and sped off. Watching the bastard get away, I felt glad that I had taken photographs of everything and also separated things between my bag and pockets.

The timing of the robbery, just moments after leaving the bank, seemed too perfectly timed to be mere coincidence.

But was it just a random, opportunistic attack by thieves hoping to find some cash from a customer? Or was I the target because of the information in the safety deposit box? Somehow, I thought the latter was the most likely explanation. Which meant it was the MP.

The MP, that was how I planned on thinking of him, because I never wanted to think of him as my uncle. I refused to claim him as a blood relation, so I would not call him my uncle, and Timothy Evans-Hughes was just too long-winded to keep thinking of him by name, so the MP it was.

A shiver ran down my spine as I realised that meant the MP knew of my existence and suspected my biological father of spilling all of his dirty little secrets to me. And somehow he knew about the box and wanted the contents.

Aw, shit! What the hell was I going to do?

Suddenly, my legs turned to jelly, and a dryness spread through my mouth. Sitting on my bed, I focused on drawing in slow, deep breaths.

With my head in my hands, I mulled over my options. There really wasn't any choice. The MP needed to be stopped and my plan to simply pass the information I had to the authorities would not work.

Even if I sent the stuff to Interpol anonymously, there was just not enough evidence. A man in the MP's position could easily make a few incriminating photographs and a voice recording disappear. In fact, that was obviously what he tried to do by having my bag snatched, which was why I had mentioned nothing to the police who took my statement, as I knew it was likely pointless.

My stomach twisted into a tight knot of nerves.

The robber had only taken my bag this time, but I wondered what he would do next because I was sure this wouldn't be the end of things. I was in big trouble.

As much as I hated to admit it, I would need to fulfil my biological father's last wish. I was going to have to obtain that additional evidence to guarantee that the MP was sent to prison for a very long time and ensure my safety.

Damn it! Of all the legacies to leave me, why had Mathieson left me with this?

Thank god that he had at least provided me with so much money. To pull off what I would need to do, I was going to need money. And if I couldn't pull it off, well, I just might end up needing to go into hiding. Not something I wanted to do, but at least something my dad had prepared me for.

"Aargh!" I screamed, pissed off that the new life I was creating could be ended so soon.

Just when I met Marko, too. Sadness swept over me at the thought of never seeing him again. We'd only just met, but I knew already that he was special and someone I wanted to get to know better.

The very thought of the man had me smiling again. I was so glad that he had walked me home. I really hadn't relished the idea of walking back alone and I'd thoroughly enjoyed spending the extra time with him, which led to him asking to see me again. Hopefully, we would spend more time in each other's company soon. I couldn't wait. Another of Dad's sayings was ‘every cloud has a silver lining'.

"Yep, Dad, you were right, every cloud and all that," I said out loud, chuckling to myself and hoping that wherever he was, he could somehow hear me.

And what a silver lining Marko was. Phew! I mean the guy was hot with a capital H. Around six-foot-three inches of muscled perfection with the most beautiful grey eyes I had ever seen. Very sexy. And smart. I smiled, thinking about how easy he had been to talk to. And his voice gave me goosebumps, especially when that sexy Russian accent peeked through.

Sighing heavily, I bit my lip as a wicked grin spread over my face. Was there anything not sexy about the man?

I had been amused when he told me he worked in IT for his family business. He talked about it with such enthusiasm, his entire face lighting up. He was a geek, a total nerd by the sounds of things, but one who looked like a God.

Wow, a sexy nerd. Brawn and brains. Definitely my type. Yep, I was into him. I doubted many women could resist such a sexy specimen. A sudden rush of heat headed south, making me squirm. All this thinking of him was making me really horny, but now wasn't the time for that. I had serious business to take care of.

A sigh escaped me. I really didn't want to do this, but avoiding it wasn't an option anymore; I had to face this head-on. Gathering all the remaining items and grabbing my phone, a glass, and a bottle of wine—surely necessary—I settled onto my bed. The letter from Mathieson and the memory stick awaited. Half an hour later, the bottle was half empty, and my mind spun with thoughts.

Holy shit, the MP was a fucking psycho! Mathieson hadn't been lying about that. His letter gave me the MP's address and told me more about the sick goings-on in the world of Darkest Desire Productions . Just as I had thought from the photographs I had seen, the letter and memory stick confirmed that the company did indeed cater to mega-rich people who wanted to pay to carry out their darkest desires, usually in the form of hunting down and murdering people, often with rape and torture involved.

The sheer cruelty of finding something like that entertaining seemed unfathomable. The thought that there were many sick individuals out there willing to pay money to inflict such acts on others was utterly horrifying. These people had to be stopped, and the company shut down. However, I wished fervently that I wasn't the one tasked with this responsibility.

My shoulders sagged as the feeling of being completely out of my depth weighed heavily on me, compounded by the loneliness of it all. How the hell was I going to do this on my own?

Mathieson had really landed me in it. I bloody hated the bastard for that and from now on I vowed I would not recognise him as my biological father. He wasn't and never would be entitled to be called father by me. He was simply a sperm donor. My dad was the only father I had and the only one I ever needed. Mathieson could rot in hell. White-hot anger fizzled through my veins, and I paced the room unable to sit still. Picking up a cushion, I held it to my face and screamed into it until my throat felt raw. How could that bastard put me in danger like this?

Why couldn't Mathieson have just sent this stuff to the Police? Or paid someone else to get the information for him and then pass it to the police? Why did he have to ask me, the daughter he'd never met, to do it? I knew I had certain skills, but I was just a young woman on my own. Surely he could have found another person, or more likely several persons, more suitable?

But he didn't. He chose me. Now, whether or not I liked it, I was in deep.

"Suck it up, buttercup," the nagging voice in my head taunted. I sighed, begrudgingly acknowledging its wisdom. There was no use wishing Mathieson hadn't thrown me in at the deep end. That wouldn't change a thing. I was in this now, and my survival depended on completing the mission.

Pouring another glass of wine, I immersed myself in the details of the MP's security setup. Predictably, it was top-of-the-line, befitting a prominent public figure harbouring a scandalous secret. Apparently, he was meticulous and kept detailed files on everything related to his business. That was a definite plus when trying to gather evidence against him. However, accessing his encrypted files required navigating through layers of sophisticated security measures. Then there were several security guards and several bodyguards to deal with, too.

Sitting back, I sipped the rest of my wine while going over all the details again in my head. Between the high-end security and the encoded computer programs involved, it was one hell of a system to crack.

My dad would have relished the challenge and the opportunity to bring such a despicable person to justice. If he were still here, maybe I would have felt the same way. Instead, I felt overwhelmed. I nervously chewed my lip, mulling over various options. It wasn't that I lacked the capability. The issue lay in the complexity of the security system involved—I couldn't possibly execute such a heist alone. I needed help, and that posed a significant problem.

Dad had always worked solo or with me; we trusted no one else in our line of work. I had no contacts suitable for this kind of job. There was no one I knew whom I could enlist for help. I was stuck unless I hired someone, but finding a trustworthy accomplice willing to accept payment for such work was no easy feat and would undoubtedly take time.

I sighed heavily, not relishing the prospect of the daunting task ahead. Nevertheless, it had to be done. Pushing aside my apprehension, I focused on reviewing all the information I had gathered so far.

Once I had enough evidence, I would need to anonymously contact someone at the National Crime Unit. It was crucial to ensure the MP remained oblivious to my involvement. If the police delved too deeply, they might uncover my criminal history, or worse, the MP could engineer it. Neither outcome was desirable, and the thought of ending up in jail terrified me. Since my dad's passing, I had turned over a new leaf, except for this slight detour, and I intended to keep it that way. But how I would manage all of this without exposing my past remained uncertain.

Exhaling deeply, I ran my hand through my hair and rubbed my tired eyes. My mind felt drained. Rest was essential; I couldn't think clearly in my current state. Exhaustion weighed heavily on me, my eyelids drooping with the need for sleep. I resolved to revisit everything the next day, when my mind would hopefully be sharper.

I retrieved my "to go" bag from under the bed, which I always kept packed. Dad ingrained in me the need to be ready to flee if our activities were ever discovered by the police or the criminals he crossed, and I maintained that readiness. It seemed prudent given the current circumstances, so I added the memory stick and my bank card. My passport and another in an alternate name, along with driver's licenses in both names, were already inside.

Before closing it up, I also tucked in the money withdrawn from my account during its activation at the bank, just in case. A foreboding feeling gnawed at me, suggesting I might need it.

With the bag securely back under the bed, I trudged into the bathroom, changed into my pyjamas and brushed my teeth on autopilot. Yawning widely, I climbed into bed, and I'd just got nice and cosy and was dozing off when my mobile rang.

My eyes flew open, and excitement fizzled through me at the sound because there were so few people with this number, and none would phone me this late at night except the person who had just taken it a short while ago. Marko!

Feeling all gooey inside, I reached out to grab the phone, knocking it clear across the room in my haste.

"Shit!"

Scrambling out of bed, my legs tangled with the duvet, and I went sprawling forward, landing hard on my front and knocking the wind out of me.

"Ooof!"

Panicking that Marko might hang up and I'd lose the chance to hear his gorgeous voice again, I commando crawled towards the phone, grabbing it and flicking the icon to answer.

My heart pounded as I gasped for breath.

"Hi Marko," I said, panting hard.

"Hey there, Melissa, just checking in to see how you are after the events of earlier today?"

That he cared enough to ask gave me a warm fuzzy feeling inside.

"I'm fine thanks," I replied, desperately trying to calm my breathing down.

"So, I was wondering if you still wanted to meet up?"

"Sure," I wheezed.

"Are you sure you are okay? You sound out of breath."

Oh, hell. He's going to think I'm some weird pervert panting down the phone at him. Dragging the air into my lungs, I released it slowly before answering.

"I'm fine. I couldn't sleep so thought I would do a quick workout to help tire me out," I said, pleased with myself for coming up with a plausible excuse for my breathiness.

"Oh okay. Yeah, I get it. I do that myself sometimes."

God, his voice was dreamy. I could lie here and listen to it all night. Something about it calmed me and yet turned me on at the same time.

Marko cleared his throat, and I realised that there had been complete silence while I was thinking. Shit! What the heck was wrong with me? I was blowing this. Geez, could I get any more awkward?

My face was flaming, and I was glad he wasn't there to see it. I wasn't usually this awkward around men, so I wasn't sure why I was suddenly acting this way with Marko.

Probably because you can't stop thinking about tearing the guy's clothes off and climbing him like a tree! An annoying little voice stated.

"So, would you like to meet up? And if so, when are you free?" he asked again, sounding a little less sure of himself.

"Anytime this weekend is fine with me, actually. I just returned to London a few weeks ago, and apart from attending college, I don't really do anything else at the moment. With no friends here, I certainly don't have a social life either, so I'm pretty much free all the time right now," I said, my words rushing out before I could stop them. Cringing inwardly, I hoped that didn't make me sound pathetic, but it was true.

"Great, how about meeting for a late breakfast in the morning? I have a business meeting first thing near where you live, so I can swing by and pick you up about ten?" he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Yes. That sounds perfect," I replied, injecting as much enthusiasm into my voice as I could. There was no way I wanted him to think I wasn't interested. The grin on my face and butterflies in my stomach told me just how interested I was. My lady parts were also making their interest known. My nipples were hard and my core wet just from his voice. I couldn't wait to see him again and was really pleased when he echoed my thoughts.

"I'm really looking forward to it. It's been a while since I've met someone as interesting as you," Marko said.

"Interesting, huh?" I laughed softly, my insides dancing in pleasure at the thought that he found me interesting.

"More than interesting. You're... refreshing. Definitely, someone I would like to get to know better," Marko said, his voice smooth. I bit my lip, trying to hold back the giggle bubbling up.

"Careful, Marko. Flattery like that could get you everywhere with me," I teased, keeping my tone playful. He chuckled softly.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you today, Melissa, but in a way I am also glad because if it hadn't happened, we might not have actually met," Marko said, making me smile.

"Funny how things work out, isn't it? I'm glad we met too and I'm looking forward to breakfast," I replied, my heart fluttering with excitement.

"Great. Well, I will see you tomorrow. However, in the meantime, if you still can't sleep and need help to use up some of that pent up energy, let me know, I'm sure I can come up with some way to help you out," Marko teased, practically purring the words. It was all I could do to stop myself from begging him to come over and help me do just that.

Too soon, Melissa. Down Girl! I warned myself. It had been a while since I had been with anyone, and I certainly had an itch to scratch, but I had a feeling that what was starting between Marko and I, was way more than just sex. Marko was delicious, and he set my insides alight like no other. I wanted to take my time and explore that and see where this relationship could go.

"I might take you up on that someday, Marko. Goodnight," I replied with a chuckle.

"I hope you do. In the meantime, goodnight and sweet dreams, Melissa," he said in a voice dripping with sexiness as he hung up.

I hoped I did too.

The very thought sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine, and I grinned, biting my bottom lip to capture the giggle that threatened. I was so looking forward to spending more time with the man. Today might not have been great, but meeting Marko was definitely the highlight.

Suddenly, I had a lightbulb moment. Of course! Why hadn't I thought of it sooner? Not only was the guy hot, but he was also an IT expert, which was exactly what I needed. I would just need to convince him to help me. Smirking, I thought of how much we'd flirted and our mutual attraction, and figured that might not be too difficult, not if I played my cards right.

I felt more optimistic knowing that I would see Mr Sexy Nerd in the morning and have someone to discuss the job with. How I would broach the subject, I wasn't sure, but I resolved to figure it out tomorrow. With a sigh of relief, I gathered up my duvet and crawled back into bed.