Heart of the Devil (The Forge Trilogy #3)(20)

I boot up my laptop and find an email from Federov. The message, sent twelve minutes ago, has only a phone number and three words: Call me now.

I don’t have my cell phone, because it’s lost somewhere in Prague, so I unearth a backup from my desk and punch in Federov’s number. Sliding open the floor-to-ceiling glass door in my office, I step outside. The morning sun rises behind me, turning the rippling waves into diamond-topped peaks.

I lift the phone to my ear and connect the call.

Federov answers on the second ring. “We have information.”

“Impressive.”

“Not impressive. Necessary. My people work fast when my daughter’s life is at risk.”

I think of how he begged me to get his daughter back on that conference call that seems like it happened years ago. He gave me the name his daughter had been using, and I knew his information was inaccurate because I’d just given India Baptiste a check for a million dollars.

That’s when I really started digging into the woman who intrigued me against my will and learned about her sister. I saw my opening. Federov’s weakness, which was also quickly becoming my fascination, was ripe to be exploited. I seized the opportunity and brought Indy under my control the most effective way I knew how. I married her.

It was strictly business.

Until it wasn’t.

“Tell me everything.”

“You will not like it.”

“Federov . . .” I say his name on a growl.

“Yuri Pallovich is part of the Bratva that supplies Bastien de Vere with ecstasy, MDMA, and whatever else he’s trafficking in that month.”

“Are you sure? There’s no other connection to anyone else? To you?”

“Not that we can find yet. But I am sure that he will come after you again. De Vere shows no signs of stopping now, and my daughter is in danger because of you.”

Every word out of Federov’s mouth is a jab, which is exactly as he intends. I exploited his weakness, and now he’s zeroing in on mine.

“You think I don’t know that?” I bite out. “She’ll be protected.”

“I’m sure that’s what you thought before. I will send security to watch over her. Men whose loyalty is absolute.”

My molars threaten to crack as my jaw clenches. “She’s my wife. I’ll take care of her.”

“Like you took care of her in Prague? I find her in a fucking veterinarian’s office where she was hiding with a bleeding bodyguard who could not protect her!” His voice grows louder and angrier with each reminder of how I failed her. “She was at the mercy of whoever got to her first. What kind of man allows that to happen to his wife?”

An iron fist grips my heart and squeezes. “It won’t happen again.”

“I do not believe you, Forge. You started this to get the advantage over me. If you have any honor at all, you know what you must do now. This is not about business anymore. This is about keeping my daughter safe from an enemy that targets her only because of you. If you have no honor, I will force your hand.”

My teeth grind together. “This conversation is over.”

“It is not over until you do the right thing.”

I end the call and stare out at the glimmering sea separating Isaac’s island from Ibiza. He taught me about honor. Taught me to be a man of my word. What would he have thought of what I’ve done to India?

Like he was standing beside me, the breeze ruffles my hair.

Do the right thing.

When have I ever cared about that? Or honor?

“I guess we’ll see if I have any in me.”





17





India





Waking to a dark room and an empty bed wasn’t how I planned to start the day. I dreamed about being wrapped in Jericho’s arms, and had hoped to awaken the same way, but his side of the bed is untouched.

Where did he sleep? Did he sleep at all? Is he hurting?

I roll over to check the time on the nightstand clock. Already after noon. No wonder he’s not in bed. The fact that he let me sleep in feels so domestic, and a warm, content feeling wraps around me at the kind gesture. Still, I wish he’d woken me so I could take care of him. I have a strong suspicion that the man doesn’t know how to slow down, even when he’s injured.

After a quick pit stop in the bathroom and another in the closet to find a tank and a pair of shorts, I make a mental note that I need to bring the rest of my clothes here. The meager supplies I have are getting repetitive pretty quickly.

Before, it would have felt wrong to go back to my apartment and box up my things to bring them here, but now . . . that’s exactly what I plan to do. This is my home.

I meander out into the hallway, intent on finding my husband, but I spot Dorsey first.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Forge,” she says with a smile, balancing a case of water on her hip. A canvas grocery sack slides off her shoulder. “Is there anything you need?”

“No, but do you need a hand?”

She shifts the bag and readjusts the water as she shakes her head. “No. I’m fine. Just getting a few things for Goliath. He’s opted to stay here for his recovery, rather than listening to Mr. Forge and go elsewhere.”

“How is Goliath doing? Is he okay?” A rush of guilt washes over me. I never should have insisted on going to Prague.