Heart of the Devil (The Forge Trilogy #3)(7)

6





India





I stare at Belevich like he’s sprouted a second head. “You really think my father would help?”

Having never had a father, I’ve never had one to ask for help, so it’s a completely foreign concept to me. Why would a man I don’t know help me?

“Yes. Of course he would. And even though we are not in Russia, his power extends beyond borders.”

Under normal circumstances, I might be intimidated by the knowledge that this stranger’s power is so great that it can’t be contained in one country, but right now, I’m glad. That is, if he’s not the one behind the kidnapping. How the hell can I know for sure?

Belevich can say that my father and Jericho respect each other, but what if he’s wrong? Am I willing to bet Jericho’s life on Belevich’s word when I can’t figure out why he knows so much about what’s going on?

And what if this is all some kind of trap? What if Belevich is setting me up . . . and Jericho? He says his angle is to curry favor with my father, but I’m not sure what to believe anymore.

“What could he do to help?” I ask. The only thing I can do right now is gather as much information quickly, so that I can make this life-or-death decision as intelligently as possible. Play the man, not the game. My poker maxim applies here too.

“Last I knew, Federov had many Interpol agents on his payroll. They can access the security system at the hotel and find out who took him. And that is just the start of it.”

The walls of the tiny break room feel like they’re closing in on me as Belevich speaks. My father has Interpol agents on his payroll?

“How would we even get in touch with him?” I ask. “It’s not like I have his phone number.”

Belevich smiles and slides his phone from his pocket before holding it up. “But I do.”

With eyes that feel like they’re bugging out of my head, my gaze darts between Belevich’s face and the phone. “You have my father’s number. On your phone. As in, you could call him anytime?”

Belevich nods slowly.

He knows way more than he’s telling me.

I bolt out of my chair and back away from him, reaching out behind me for the door frame. “Who the fuck are you? Are you one of his henchmen? You told me not to attract attention from the Bratva guys in the hotel, but how the fuck do I know you’re not even worse?”

Belevich turns in his chair and throws an arm over the back, watching me with a raised eyebrow like he’s amused that I’m two seconds from running.

“You can trust me or not, Indy. But you need to decide fast. Every moment we delay, there may be less of your husband for you to collect.”

My stomach revolts at the image his words conjure—Jericho broken and bleeding somewhere—but I force it down because I can’t handle even picturing it. Since the moment I first saw Jericho Forge, he’s been the very definition of larger than life. Untouchable. Practically immortal. I can’t stand, even for a second, to picture him hurt or in danger.

If he dies, it will break me.

The absolute truth rises up from the deepest part of my soul. I’m in love with Jericho Forge, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to let him die before I get a chance to tell him that. Whatever I have to pay, barter, or bargain to get him back, I will do it.

“Call my father. Call him right now.”

“As you wish.” Belevich taps the screen on his phone and lifts it to his ear.

He speaks in Russian for a few moments while I hold my breath, wondering if I’ve made the wrong choice. But what other choice did I really have? None.

I wait for Belevich to offer the phone to me, so I can speak to this stranger who is my father, but instead, he finishes the short conversation and hangs up.

My eyes lock on his face. “What? What’s going on? Doesn’t he want to talk to me? Who the fuck did you really call?” Distrust batters at my insides, and I wish I had Goliath’s gun in my hand at that very moment to threaten Belevich to get the truth.

“Calm down. He will speak to you soon.”

I wrap my hand around the doorjamb and my entire body tenses, poised to bolt at the first possible sign that he has somehow screwed me over. “What the hell does that mean? He’s calling you back?”

Belevich shakes his head as my mind races. “No. He’s already here. In Prague. For you.”

My heartbeat thunders in my ears, and static makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end as I try to make sense of what he said.

My father is in Prague. For me.

“What? Why? Why the fuck would he be here?”

I take a step back, jerking my gaze off Belevich for a second to scan the silent hallway, as if I’m afraid the boogeyman is going to reach out from behind me and drag me away.

Belevich rises from the chair. “Federov says he came to watch you play in the grand prix. I did not see him, otherwise I would have told you before. But like you, my attention was on the game, not the crowd.”

He could be lying to me. All of this could be bullshit. He could have just called in a Russian hit squad to take out me and Goliath to finish the job they started in the hotel.

My jaw sets as I shake my head. “I don’t trust you.”

Belevich studies my face. “At this point, it does not matter whether you trust me or not. I have no ill will toward you or Forge.”