Page 5 of Locked and Loaded

“So,” Katya said as she sank onto one of the cream and beige sofas, “what have you brought me?”

Lennox set the bags down on the opposite sofa and took a seat next to them. “I have some lovely things.” She tried to maintain a calm and open demeanor, but inside her heart was hammering against her rib cage and sweat broke out on her palms.

The maid arrived with two champagne glasses on a tray, along with a cheese and olive board. She offered a glass to Lennox, who took it with unsteady hands. The maid’s gaze met hers, assessing. Lennox almost swore. Whoever this was, she wasn’t a regular maid. This woman had just taken Lennox’s measure, and she’d been found wanting. That meant she didn’t have much time.

Katya took the other glass of champagne and told the maid to put the board on the table and then dismissed her. She popped an olive in her mouth and looked at Lennox expectantly.

The maid came back into the room with the bottle of champagne in an ice bucket. She put it within arm’s reach of Katya and then left.

Lennox started to open the bags, but instinct kicked in and stopped her. She was painfully aware she’d already made several mistakes. She should have arrived with the clothing on racks. She also should have brought several assistants. Hell, she shouldn’t have actually taken a cab here at all because now they could trace her. She took a big drink of her champagne and then got up and sat down in the chair closer to Katya.

Katya smiled slyly. “The charade is over now, is it?”

“Yes,” Lennox agreed.

“So, tell me why I shouldn’t summon security, hmmm?” She stared at Lennox over the rim of her champagne flute.

“Because I’m not here to hurt you,” Lennox offered.

Katya burst into laughter. “You could not hurt me.” She snorted. “Nikolai would kill you. He would kill your boss. He would kill everybody if you hurt me. And then he would take his money back.”

Lennox blinked rapidly, trying to figure out what was going on. What was Katya talking about? Nikolai Rostov was her sugar daddy. Did she think Nikolai had hired her or something? “What is it you think Nikolai paid for exactly?”

Katya popped another olive in her mouth. “You don’t play games with me.” She pointed at her chest. “I am a master at games. He hired you to be nice to me, so you tell him what I said. You bring me cheap knockoffs because he thinks I won’t know the difference, and he’s mad at me, and he don’t want to spend more money on me. He’s a cheap prick when he’s mad.” She spit the olive pit out onto the floor. “He’s having an affair on me and wants to get rid of me. I know this!” she hissed. “I will not let it happen. You tell that sheeet I said that.” Her voice was getting louder.

Lennox glanced at the doorway. She didn’t need the maid coming back in. “No, Nikolai didn’t hire me.”

“Don’t you lie to me!” Katya said, launching to her feet. “You tell⁠—”

Lennox shot to her feet. “I’m here about Ibiza.”

Katya blinked, her voice dying. She stared at Lennox.

“My sister was taken in Ibiza, just like you were. I, just…I’m trying to find her.”

Katya stared for a full minute, and then her shoulders sagged, and she sat down heavily on the sofa. She grabbed her champagne glass and gulped the entire contents.

“What do you know about Ibiza?” she rasped, then popped yet another olive in her mouth. “How do you know I was there?”

Lennox sat. She glanced toward the doorway and then dropped her voice. “I tracked down someone who knew all about taking girls there. I asked him who might be able to tell me about my sister. He gave me your name. He said you were taken but that Nikolai Rostov took an immediate liking to you and he bought you outright. He said you were lucky to have avoided what my sister could not.”

Lennox had tried to keep her voice stable, but it had broken on the last word.

It had taken her weeks to find Pablo. Weeks of trolling all the clubs in Ibiza to find the man who had helped get her sister kidnapped. Then it had taken hours to get him to talk. Hours of chatting with him, pretending she was interested. It wasn’t until he’d drunk a whole bottle of champagne by himself that she’d pulled a knife and threatened to cut off his balls if he didn’t tell her what she wanted to know. He’d taken one look at her and gotten quite talkative.

Katya’s eyes narrowed. “Who is your sister?”

“Chloe. Chloe Crowe.” Lennox’s heart hammered hard, but this time it wasn’t fear; it was in anticipation.

Katya nodded slowly. “I remember your sister. She was pretty. Soft. She cried a lot.”

Lennox dug her nails from her left hand into the palm of her right one. She could not cry. She needed to think clearly. Be rational. Emotion couldn’t cloud her thoughts. Not now. Not when she’d come so far and finally thought she might get a break. She might actually find out something that would help her find her sister.

Katya shrugged. “I don’t know anything.”

The disappointment was so bitter, Lennox almost choked. “You must…you have to know something. Please.” She hated begging, but she would do whatever it took to find her sister.

Katya sighed and then reached over for the champagne bottle and refilled her glass. “Your sister. She was not like the others. She was like me. A special present.”