Chapter 25

Landon jogged a couple meters towards the other end of the hall, checking to make sure Colette's door was still closed, before doubling back to where Andrei and Rolf had just emerged from the storage room, both dressed for the night. Rolf wore leathers, while Andrei wore slacks and an untucked and unbuttoned dress shirt.

"What happened?" Rolf said. "Are the club subs okay?"

"This isn't a Club Alibi problem," Landon said, jogging back towards them. "This is an Interpol problem."

Except it wasn't a problem. Not according to the agent in charge.

According to him, it was an opportunity.

Andrei raised his brows, while Rolf nodded once, his posture changing as he shifted out of Dom mode.

"Do either of you know Indrek Novak? Started in the NCB in Estonia, stationed in Germany for a while, now in Poland."

Both Andrei and Rolf shook their heads, though Rolf was frowning.

"He's the agent in charge of the human trafficking investigation." Landon shoved his hands through his hair. "I just talked to him." Before this, information had been filtered through Barry. It was the first time Landon has spoken directly to the agent in charge, and it had not gone well.

"And?" Andrei asked.

"And he wants me to send him a current picture of Colette."

Rolf and Andrei both stiffened.

"According to him, Damien Tarasov has hired people to find a dark-haired woman who's either Irish or French and goes by the name Colline."

"He took a hit out on her." Andrei shrugged. "You knew they were after her. It's why she came to us for protection."

Landon shoved his hands through his hair, stepping closer and lowering his voice, though there was no way Colette could hear their conversation from her room at the other end of the hall.

"It's not a hit. It's a bounty. He doesn't want her killed, he wants her brought to him."

Rolf grimaced, while Andrei's expression went flat.

"You think he plans to kill her horribly, to make an example of her." There were ghosts in Andrei's voice.

Landon shook his head even as he swallowed, needing a minute to get the next words out. "Novak doesn't think so. He says the contract specifies she's not to be hurt. It says if she'd injured, Damien will personally whip the man who hurt her."

Rolf and Andrei now stared at him with the same dawning horror he'd experienced during the phone call with Novak.

"And the contract says…" Fear and rage choked him for a minute. "In the bounty contract, Damien refers to Colette his wife."

Rolf's eyes went wide, while Andrei turned away, his back to Landon.

"Novak wants to use that to get more information about Damien's organization before they move in." Landon was holding on to his control with both hands.

"He wants to use her as bait," Rolf said grimly.

The door to the storage room burst open and Colette stumbled out.

Landon had only a second to think what the fuck, followed by, oh shit she heard that.

Colette raced out of the room, eyes blind with panic. Andrei was ready for her, catching her around the waist even as Landon lunged forward to grab her.

Andrei had turned to face the door not because he needed a minute to gather himself, but because he'd anticipated Colette's actions. Andrei, who'd been in the store room a minute ago.

"You fucking prick," Landon snarled. "You knew she was in there?"

"Let me go," Colette demanded, thrashing in Andrei's hold. "I have to go."

"Don't let her go," Landon commanded. "She'll run."

"Please, Andrei, please." She tipped her head back, trying to look at the man who held her tight against his chest. "I can't go back."

Landon ached with the need to grab Colette away and hold her himself. The way she was looking at Andrei made him want to beat the ever bloody fuck out of the other man.

"Stop." Rolf's voice cracked with command. "We'll sit, and you'll explain."

Landon wasn't sure who the "you" in that sentence was. Hopefully Colette, and hopefully now she'd answer some fucking questions.

The first thing he was going to ask was, "Are you married?"

* * *

Colette couldn't breathe. Panic ate through her like acid. Her fingers were trembling, her heart hammered against her ribs, and her vision had shrunk to a pinprick.

"Breathe, Colette," Andrei said, slowly releasing her.

Without arms around her, or a body at her back, she swayed on her feet. The men's sharp conversation filtered through the thick blanket of white noise that seemed to wrap over her.

"I think she's having a panic attack," Andrei said.

"She needs to sit down. Landon, carry her." That was Rolf.

"I'll do it." Andrei again.

"No, Landon will do it. She backed away from you when you tried to collar her."

"You fucking what?" Now it was Landon speaking, and the sound of his voice pushed down some of the panic.

"Later," Rolf commanded. "Landon, carry her or I will."

Without thinking, Colette stepped towards Landon. A second later his arms were around her back and under her bare knees. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I know you don't want me to touch you."

She wanted to negate that. To counter that she did want him to touch her, because even though he'd hurt her, she both needed, and loved, him.

Colette wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself up until she could press her face against the side of his head and neck.

The world spun and dipped as he carried her out into the main part of the club. Furniture scraped, and a second later Colette was lowered into an armchair. The leather was cold against her ass and legs. She exhaled, slowly gathering herself.

The blind panic muted to something manageable. She still trembled. She was still feverishly making plans for what she'd do when she left here, but she was no longer blind and deaf to what was happening around her.

Landon, Rolf, and Andrei were seated in their own chairs which were pulled up in a half-circle facing her. A table was positioned between her and them, and a tall glass of ice and a taller bottle of water waited there. She grabbed the bottle, ignoring the ice, and took a few deep swallows before setting it down.

She braced herself and looked at Landon, who was in the center chair directly across from her.

"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "You weren't meant to hear that." He slanted a glare at Andrei.

"I really thought that conversation was going to go a different way." Andrei shrugged. "I thought you were going to confess your?—"

"I have to go," Colette said, cutting Andrei off.

"No," Landon countered. "You're safe here."

"Not if Interpol plans to hand me over to Damien." She wouldn't allow that to happen, but the very fact that someone thought it was a good idea horrified her. Horrified, but not surprised.

Rolf leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "You need to answer a few questions."

Colette looked away, feeling defeated. All her machinations, and her reticence, had been to avoid this very situation.

"Colette?" Rolf prompted.

With a defeated sigh, she looked back. "Ask your questions. I'll answer."

Rolf looked to Landon, silently letting him take the lead. Landon licked his lips, and she wanted to kiss him. Needed him to kiss her.

"Are you married?" There was a hidden hurt in his words, though on the surface they were matter-of-fact.

Her heart clenched and she shook her head. "No. I'm not married, and certainly not to Damien."

Landon nodded, his shoulders relaxing a little. "Why is Damien Tarasov offering millions of euros to whomever brings you back to him?"

"I was Damien's prisoner." Shame crawled up her throat. "I escaped, but I don't know why he's…fixated…on me."

"Because you escaped," Rolf said.

She shook her head. "No, he was…odd…before I escaped." Odd wasn't the right word at all, but she couldn't bring herself to use terms that would have been more accurate. Obsessed. Possessive.

Landon scrubbed his face with his hands. "I need to you to give me more details. Everything you've been keeping to yourself. But I don't want you to think I'm trying to entrap you. Or accusing you." His gaze briefly dipped to her side, then bounced up to her face. "I'm not."

"Even if I, hypothetically, stole something from him?"

Landon's brow arched. "In that case I'd call you stupid and tell you to return it."

That shocked a laugh out of her. "You'd call me stupid?"

"Stealing things from Russian organized crime is objectively stupid," Landon countered.

"Yes, it is… Which is why I didn't steal anything. Anything except information."

"Espionage instead of property theft?" Landon asked, a slight smile playing around his lips. With each word of their exchange the panic retreated a little further and the ground felt firm under her feet once more.

"Everything I say next is hypothetical. I'm not confessing."

Rolf frowned, but Landon was smiling at her in a knowing way.

"I love hypothetical crime." Andrei lounged back in his chair, totally relaxed.

"Hypothetically…I heard that several Russian oligarchs were planning to use a broker based out of Novgorod to move their art collections in advance of sanctions and potential seizure," she said slowly.

Each of the men nodded. They would, of course, know more than the general public about what was happening in Eastern Europe and the discussions in both the EU and UN about sanctions.

"I wanted to know how the art was being transported and where it was going. If it was being sold off, or just moved so it couldn't be seized." Colette scooted forward in her chair. "It's multiple museums worth of priceless art, masterpieces that should be studied. They're all locked away in Moscow and St. Petersburg. Relocation is a unique opportunity."

"To steal things?" Rolf's stern disapproval made Colette shoot him a smile and a wink.

Rolf's eyes narrowed. Even seated the big man was menacing. But Landon was right there, seated next to him. Landon wouldn't let Rolf hurt her.

Her unshakable belief in that statement was further proof that she wasn't rational when it came to Landon.

"I figured out who the broker was. Moving collections like this to vacation homes and other real estate holdings in France, Italy, even here in England is a massive undertaking."

"That's where the art was going?" Andrei asked.

"That's what I assumed before I went. Secondary or tertiary estates. Or maybe some yachts." Colette grimaced. The idea of priceless art on a boat, even if it was a half-billion dollar yacht, made her art-loving soul cry.

"And you wanted to find out how it was going to get there so it could be transported." Landon was clearly thinking it through.

Colette arched a brow. "Yes, with my team of mercenary ex-special forces commandos I'd intercept the armed convoys, and steal billions of dollars of art all at once."

They all looked at her.

"Right, that's not how you operate," Landon said dryly.

She inclined her head in acknowledgement.

"You wanted to know where the art was going." Landon corrected.

"Hypothetically, yes." And then later she could steal a few select items and swap them with forgeries to delay discovery. Assuming Colette's forger had time in her schedule.

"The idea of you stealing something from Russian billionaires is going to give me an ulcer," Landon grumbled.

"Damien's the broker?" Rolf asked.

"No. I didn't know Damien existed until I met him. There were rumored ties between the broker and the Bratva, but I didn't realize that the broker was actually a member of the organization. I thought the broker—Domantus Kazlauskas—was paying the Bratva for protection. His name was part of the information I turned over to Interpol."

"If you were focused on the broker, how did you meet Damien?" Rolf asked.

"In order to find the information I was interested in, I manipulated things to ensure I was the best possible appraiser available when Kazlauskas needed an expert. He hired me to assess a jewelry collection and assist with insurance paperwork."

"Who did they hire?" Landon asked. "Colette?"

She hesitated, but there was really no point hiding this information since Damien had apparently announced at least one of her aliases to every bounty hunter in Europe. "Sometimes I do business under the name Colline Chonic."

"Irish?" Landon asked.

"Yes."

"And let me guess, it could be roughly translated to victory hill?"

Her lips twitched. "Possibly."

"The fact that all your aliases mean the same thing should have made it easier to find you," Landon groused.

"The fact that you know any of my aliases means I should change my ways."

"And stop stealing art and jewels? Good idea."

Colette tsked and shrugged. "They say happiness is found when you do something you're good at."

Landon looked at the ceiling with a sigh, and she smiled. Heh.

"Is that where you got the diamond?" Rolf asked, doggedly staying on subject. "From the jewelry collection?"

Colette's amusement faded. "No. I told you I didn't steal anything, and Damien didn't have the Saudi Diamond. That is, as I said, entirely separate."

"What happened once they hired you?"

"I knew the broker would want me to come to him, and given the size of the collection, it was going to take days to go through it. I, reluctantly—" She smiled and winked, and Landon shook his head, though he was smiling too. "—agreed to stay at what I thought was Domantus's estate in Novgorod while I worked on the collection."

Colette couldn't hold her smile any longer. "I didn't meet Damien until I was almost done."

Colette didn't want to explain what came next. Shame and remembered fear ate at her. The club around them seemed vast and echoing when all she wanted was to be tucked up safe.

This time she poured the water into the glass before taking a sip.

"Damien came into the room where I was working one day. I was assessing a three strand necklace. It was an odd piece—black pearl and emerald, but the emeralds were bead cut. Faceted, but shaped like round beads, with a hole bored in the middle. High quality stones too, that should have been cut for a ring or earrings. The shortest strand was eighty centimeters, the longest eighty-two. It didn't lay right."

She touched her neck, tracing a U shape down to her breasts. "The graduation in length between each strand was off, causing them to bunch up. The proportions would have made sense were it a choker, but this was necklace length, and a long necklace at that. Also the safety clasp was larger than normal."

She was stalling, focusing on details that didn't matter.

"I knew someone had come into the room and was watching me. I wasn't doing anything I shouldn't. Or anything interesting. Just making notes and examining the necklace with a jeweler's loupe. I thought maybe it had been broken and repaired incorrectly.

"Damien came up behind me and asked if I knew what it was. I said it was a very unique necklace. He told me it wasn't a necklace at all. It was meant for a woman's waist, and that he used it to assess if a woman was right for him. If it fit her, it was a sign she was meant to belong to him."

"Belong?" Rolf asked softly.

She nodded. "That's what he said. He took it and put it on me. I tried to step back, but he already had it around me, and I was scared of pulling and breaking it. He said he'd been watching me work, heard me discussing the merits of the pieces with Kazlauskas. According to him I was smart and beautiful."

"You are," Landon said softly.

She briefly met his gaze, but had to look away.

Damien had said other things too. He'd told her he liked the shape of her breasts and ankles. Said her lips would look good around his cock.

"I was professional and calm, but that just made him laugh. He fastened the pearl and emerald piece around my waist. I let him do it, hoping he'd go away. And he did.

"I assumed he was one of the broker's employees—there were lots of people at the estate most of the time, though I still don't know if they all lived there. I assumed he was being an asshole to me because I was an outsider. Because he could."

What came next was intimate and humiliating. Though she knew, she knew, none of it was her fault, she was ashamed.

She hesitated too long, the prolonged silence making it worse.

"If you would rather just speak with Landon…" Rolf hesitated. "Or Andrei?"

"When the fuck did you two get so chummy?" Landon snarled at Andrei, his voice low enough she thought he hadn't intended her to hear.

Andrei didn't lower his voice. "When I took care of her last night after you didn't."

Landon's eyes widened, his cheeks flushing with anger. Rolf lunged out of his chair, grabbing Landon's shoulders, though Landon hadn't moved. Andrei laughed, leaning back and crossing his legs.

"You're an asshole," Colette told him.

Andrei languidly turned to look at her. "True, but I'm an asshole who will cuddle subs after their Dom fucks up and abandons them."

Landon snarled wordlessly, then shook off Rolf's hold as he shoved to his feet, rolling his shoulders before focusing on her.

"I'm sorry." Landon was speaking too her, but wasn't actually looking at her, his gaze fixed on the air above her left shoulder. "If you're more comfortable speaking with Andrei, I'll leave and?—"

He was going to leave. Colette swallowed hard.

Andrei smirked, shaking his head slightly as he said something in a language she didn't speak. His tone made it clear like he'd just insulted Landon.

"Sit down, Malik," Rolf said. "I understand you and Colette had a fight, which explains your failure to perform aftercare. I did some aftercare for her, too. It's why we were in the supply room earlier."

Finally, Landon looked at her. Really looked. She wondered if he was angry that she'd gone to other Doms. She had every right to let whomever she wanted touch her, and yet… Yet she felt the need to assure him that only his touch mattered. That she was starting to think of Andrei, and to a lesser extent Rolf, as Dom friends. Nothing more.

"Please stay," she whispered.

The tension eased from his shoulders, and now there was no anger in his gaze, only a question.

Are you sure? Are you okay?

Colette nodded, and Landon slowly resumed his seat.

Rolf too sat, turning to Colette. "Tell us what happened next."