Chapter 18

VIKTOR

In the early morning hours before dawn had even thought of kissing the eastern horizon, Viktor heard his phone vibrating on the bedside table and reached for it, nuzzling and shushing a woozy Emerson, who slept curled up against him. He grinned. She would feel hung over come morning—not from booze but from the intensity of their scene and the numerous times he’d made her come last night.

Seeing the caller ID, he groaned. He wanted to pitch the phone across the room or answer it with a string of curse words, but Fitzwallace wouldn’t be calling him if it wasn’t important—not at this time of the morning, especially as he and JJ had been at the club last night.

“I think it goes without saying this had better be bloody important,” Viktor growled into the phone.

“It is. I take it the fair Ms. Ravenel is lying next to you.”

“She is. Is that it? Now that I’ve satisfied your grumpy, nosy old soul, can I hang up and go back to sleep?”

Fitz chuckled. “I wish, but something important has come up. I think you’re going to want to be involved. I could use your expertise and your opinion. I’d rather have you in from the start.”

“I truly hate you. It’s a good thing I like JJ so much, otherwise I’d slit your throat and be done with you, but I’d hate to deny her the pleasure of your company.”

“That isn’t it, and we both know it. You kill me, and you’ll have JJ after you in a heartbeat, and she wouldn’t stop until she’d cut your balls off, shoved them down your throat and watched you choke on them.”

Fitz wasn’t wrong about his wife’s reaction to someone killing the love of her life. Viktor had never understood that kind of depth of feeling, until now.

“Do I have time for a shower?”

“That depends,” said Fitz, “are we talking actual soap and water, or are we talking about you having your woman one more time?”

“Any chance the answer would be yes if I said the latter?”

“None whatsoever. Seriously, Viktor, if it wasn’t important…”

“I know. I need ten minutes. Where am I going?”

“Out the front door. I’m waiting in the SUV.”

Viktor couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’d bloody well better have my coffee.”

“Large blonde roast with an extra shot. If you play your cards right, I’ll even add a splash of vodka.”

“Philistine. Everyone knows you only add whiskey to coffee.”

“Consider it done.”

Ending the call, Viktor eased himself out of the bed, grabbed a quick shower, got dressed and nuzzled Emerson.

“Don’t wake up, malenkaya, just sleep, but know I have to meet Fitz.”

“What?” she mumbled sleepily.

“I have to meet Fitz. He says it’s important. I don’t know how long I’ll be.” He kissed her shoulder. “Stay here. If you feel you have to leave, my driver is at your convenience. Just let me know where you’ve gone.”

“Mmm… okay. Love you. Bye,” she said rolling back over. He was fairly sure she was asleep before he even had time to process what she’d said.

He pulled back and looked down at her. He doubted she’d even remember what she’d said. Normally, if a woman used the L word, Viktor was quick to end things. He was surprised as he examined his feelings and found nothing that made him want to pull away.

He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I love you too, dushka,” he whispered.

When he joined Fitzwallace in the SUV, the Scotsman handed him his coffee and started to laugh.

“What?” grumbled Viktor.

“Nothing,” chuckled Fitz. “Nothing at all. I wasn’t sure you were serious about it.”

“I ordered a ring from Antwerp; that’s pretty damn serious.”

“True enough, but if I were you, I’d get that done sooner rather than later, and I’d make sure the news makes all the papers.”

“Why?”

“Oliver Toney. He’s got a hard-on for your girl. Cerberus has been asked to gather some intelligence on him. I got the feeling MI-6 might have asked you to do the same. I thought we’d join forces, and I knew you had, or at least were developing, feelings for the girl.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I was in the audience last night. I normally don’t get aroused by anything or anyone other than JJ, but you and Emerson had me reaching for a glass of water and looking for a place I could fuck my wife. By the way, thank you for that. We had one hell of a night because of you two. So, about that ring….”

“It should be here before week’s end,” said Viktor with a rueful smile. “Do you think I’m a fool?”

“Not at all. I knew from the moment I met JJ that I’d never want anyone else. In all seriousness, Romanov, congratulations. Emerson is one hell of a girl,”

“Thanks, Fitz.”

By the time he returned to the club, he was convinced Emerson’s suspicions about Toney weren’t far off the mark. He’d known the guy was a douchebag, but he just thought he was a tool. If what they were tracking proved to be true, Toney was so much more than any of them had ever thought, and Viktor was beginning to believe Toney had had a hand in the senior Ravenel’s deaths.

As he walked in the front door of the club, he asked, “Any messages?”

“Ms. Ravenel left this morning and said she’d talk with you later.”

“Did she seem all right?”

“She did, Sir,” said the receptionist with a grin. “Can I just say that was the hottest scene last night?”

“No, you may not—at least not in the foyer,” Viktor scolded, but then grinned. “But thank you.”

He headed up to his office and settled in to get some actual work done. Normally he could compartmentalize all the various aspects of his life. He kept everything separate—never letting one area bleed into another. But he kept finding himself letting his mind drift to Emerson. He could recall vividly each moment, every sigh, every touch, everything. And if he wasn’t thinking about what they’d already done, he was thinking about all the delicious things he wanted to do to and with her. Maybe once he got that ring on her finger, he’d be better able to concentrate on other things. Fat chance.

“Sir?” Agata said from the elevator. “May I clean in here?”

“Of course, Agata. Emerson has gone back to her office. If you’d like to clean upstairs after you’re done, I would appreciate it. I’m not sure what our plans are…”

Viktor stopped speaking as Agata backed away from the locked, bulletproof glass case that contained many imperial family artifacts that had disappeared after the revolution and had since been recovered. She was pointing to it with a look of horror on her face. Among the items in the case was one of three of the missing Fabergé eggs his great-great-grandmother, the Grand Duchess Anastasia, had given him. It was the Nécessaire egg—a fabulous creation covered in rubies, emeralds, and sapphires that had been given by Tsar Alexander III to Maria Feodorovna in 1889.

“It’s gone,” Agata finally managed to say. “The egg—it’s gone.”

Viktor felt the color drain from his face. Not only was the egg priceless in terms of monetary and historical value, but it was a family heirloom he cherished.

“I will call the police,” said Agata.

“No. I will handle it. Don’t touch anything in my office. Go upstairs to the apartment and clean. When you’re done, go home. Tell no one. Do you understand?”

“The egg is…it’s…”

“I know, Agata. But what you need to remember is that the egg is mine. I will find and deal with whoever has taken it. You will keep silent. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, as she retreated to the elevator.

Viktor quickly pulled up the security footage from the cameras he had hidden in his office. No one knew they were there or how to access the footage they captured. He ran the recording back to just before he left and confirmed that the egg had still been in the protected case at that time. He watched carefully until the thief entered the office, used the key he kept hidden in a secret compartment in his desk and opened the case, removing the egg and slipping it into her purse.

He knew it was her because he recognized her. Emerson. There was no doubt about it—her red hair, her build, even the same clothes that had been upstairs since the first time they’d been together.

Reminding himself he had to breathe, he watched as she returned the key to its hiding place, picked up her bag, and returned to the elevator. From there he switched between cameras until he saw her exiting through the main lobby—the egg still in her purse. He spent the rest of the afternoon reviewing the tapes, trying to find some reason to doubt her guilt. There was none.

Viktor waited—the hours creeping by torturously slowly. When she sent a text asking about where and when to meet, he texted back suggesting one of the restaurants with a private bar down on the waterfront. Just before he was ready to leave, a call came up that there was a private messenger in the lobby. The messenger was shown to his office.

“Mr. Romanov. I’m the messenger you requested from Antwerp.”

The ring. This was the guy with Emerson’s engagement ring. “You have my package?”

“Yes, sir. I believe you will find the ring to be exquisite and an almost perfect match for the collar we made you some time ago.”

Viktor smiled. “So, you recognized the significance of the necklace?”

“Yes, sir. We make it our business to know our clients and anticipate their needs. The jewels in the ring are an exact match for those in the collar. I think you will be pleased.”

Viktor took the box and pocketed it without looking. “I’m sure I will be. May I offer to put you up here at the club or at one of the city’s better hotels?”

The man grinned and looked as if Viktor had just handed him the keys to the candy store. “I would very much like to stay here. I’m not a practitioner, but the lifestyle fascinates me. Just to be in the lounge of the Carriage House and to stay here would be an honor.”

Viktor nodded. “Head back downstairs. I’ll have someone meet you and act as your guide for the evening. Unfortunately, I have a previous engagement, which I cannot break.”

“Understood, sir, and thank you.”

“My pleasure,” said Viktor, shaking the man’s hand.

So, he had Emerson’s ring. He tried to think of it as just the ring but couldn’t. It was hers, and she was his. He supposed he could make excuses that she’d been desperate for the money and had second thoughts about Ravenel Reliance accepting a loan from him—third-party intermediary or not.

Given her expertise in antiquities and artifacts, she had to have known if not exactly which imperial Fabergé egg it was, that at least it was one of them. Maybe she had spent the day trying to find a buyer. It didn’t really matter. He would recover the egg one way or another, and his beautiful, scheming fiancée would spend the rest of her life atoning for it.

Viktor made his way to the restaurant and asked for one of the private balcony rooms. When she walked in, she took his breath away. He had actually forgotten in just the space of a day how truly beautiful she was. She was wearing a strapless black and orchid print dress as she entered the room. She’d paired it with black beaded chandelier earrings and strappy black patent leather sandals. She reminded him of a painting, although Viktor couldn’t recall which one. She was stunning.

“Emerson,” he rumbled, feeling his groin tighten the way it always did when she entered a room.

“Viktor. This is gorgeous. My sisters and I have done happy hour downstairs, but never had the cache to get one of the exclusive rooms.”

“Wealth has its privileges. Kendra and Tegan are well?”

“Yes, and they are very grateful for your assistance. I wanted to be able to get all the details ironed out before I approached Toney.”

“I will handle Toney.”

“I would prefer to do that myself. Viktor, can we not talk business? Are you all right?”

“If you do not wish to talk about business,” he said coldly, “then I want you on your knees.”

“Viktor?”

“Knees, Emerson.”

Lifting the dress out of the way, she sank gracefully to her knees, looking up at him. “Viktor?” she asked again, a bit of alarm creeping into her voice.

“Do not speak, Emerson. I want you in the classic submissive position. It is the one you will assume from now on whenever we are alone unless I tell you otherwise. You will be naked, on your knees with your legs spread so that I can see your pussy. Your hands will be on your thighs, palms up, and your head will be bowed. Am I clear?”

She nodded and adjusted her position.

“Good. I don’t care why you took the egg, only that you tell me where it is now.”

“Egg? What egg?”

“The Nécessaire egg.”

“The Nécessaire? The Fabergé Nécessaire egg?”

He grasped her chin in his fingers. “Do not speak unless you are answering my question.”

“I can’t answer a question I don’t understand.” Alarm threaded her response.

“I am trying to make allowances for why you felt it necessary to take the egg…”

Her head jerked up, out of his fingers, and her eyes blazed. “Wait, you think I stole the Nécessaire egg?”

“Do not play me for any more of a fool than I already feel myself to be. You will return the egg or tell me to whom you have given it. You will put on my engagement ring, and we will be married within twenty-four hours. In that way, I cannot be forced to testify against you. I have told Agata she is to remain silent, but women—well, women can’t be trusted, can they?”

Emerson looked down again. Good. She was beginning to understand how things would be between them. She removed her hands from her thighs and before he had a sense of what she might be up to, she balled her right one into a fist and slammed it into his balls, making him take a knee, clutching at himself and trying to find air with which to breathe.

“I didn’t steal your fucking egg. And you can take your damn ring and shove it up a hole where the sun never shines.” She rocked back onto her heels and stood up. “You and Agata do what you have to do, Viktor, but don’t you or yours ever come on Ravenel property again. If you do, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing and harassment. I don’t think you got hit hard enough with that parasol. Goodbye, Viktor.”

She spun on her heel and walked away. By the time he could get to his feet to follow her, she was gone.