Spiros was once again behind the desk. “I’m ready, sir.”
Nick nodded. “Play it.”
Spiros hit another button and turned the laptop to face the TV screen. It was a recording, done in a sterile gray room that held no pictures or any distinguishing marks that would be useful in pinpointing its location.
The position of the camera showed it was set on a table. A simple ladder-backed chair stood in front of it.
Charles Mwana folded himself into the chair a second later, then leaned forward to nonchalantly adjust the lens. Belle’s breath caught.
“Good day to you, Mr. Andreakos. I assume we need no introduction, since you felt the need to reduce my training camp to ashes several days ago. If you’d chosen to negotiate with me instead of using brute force, I’m sure we could’ve come to an amicable, gentleman’s agreement. However, you’ve chosen to take the violent route, so here we are. Before you think this is a threat, I want to assure you that I’m a peaceful man. I don’t harm until I am harmed.” He leaned in closer to the screen, his eyes going from friendly to deadly in a heartbeat. “And I don’t take until something is taken from me.” He sat back. “You, Mr. Andreakos, have taken something from me. My training camp will be relocated and rebuilt, but Belle—and yes, I know you have her—Belle is irreplaceable. She no longer belongs to you. I want her returned. This is your opportunity to make amends for taking what is mine. Give her back to me, and there will be no repercussions. Fail to do so—” He placed his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers, thought for a beat or two. “You’re a gentleman, so I know you’ll honor this simple request. I’ll have another package delivered to you same time tomorrow with details of how you can return my Belle to me. Don’t bother trying to trace the package’s origin. You won’t succeed.” He leaned forward and switched off the camera but paused at the last moment. “Until we meet again, sweet Belle.” He smiled, then the screen went blank.
Belle’s heart thundered so loudly in her ears for several seconds, Nick’s voice was merely a distant rumble.
“—have you over my fucking dead body.”
She focused to find herself on the sofa in the study, a glass of something dark and pungent in her hand, and Nick pacing in front of her.
He stopped suddenly. “Drink the brandy, Tinkerbelle.”
She drank. That satisfied him somewhat, but the menace didn’t leave his face. He resumed pacing as the fiery liquid scorched her insides.
A drop of liquid went down the wrong way, and what started as a cough soon turned into a sob. “Oh, God.”
With a curse, Nick hunkered down in front of her and cupped her cheeks in his warm palms. “Hey, don’t let that piece of scum get to you. We’re armed to the teeth should the bastard dare to come anywhere near here, but I suspect he’s hiding in another hole. Whatever the case, we’re going to throw everything we have at this, sweetheart. We’re going to hunt him down, and we won’t stop until we get him. I promise you.”
She sobbed harder. “You don’t understand. I think I may have…let him believe…”
“You mean getting close to him so he shared his plans for Nawaka with you?”
Her head snapped up in surprise, and she blinked back her tears. “You know?”
Nick nodded. “It was a dangerous move, but ultimately a clever one. You bought yourself time for me to get to you. If the asshole chooses to believe he’s entitled because of that, it’s his problem. He won’t get within a hundred miles of you. Not unless he wants me to rip him to pieces with my bare hands.” He kissed her wet eyelids before sealing her lips in a strength-infusing kiss.
She felt a little better when he lifted his head. Her gaze went to the blank screen. “So what’s going to happen now?” she asked.
“I’ve sent Jameson to collect the package and have it discreetly analyzed for evidence. He knows a guy. Apart from that, we wait to see what unfolds tonight and tomorrow.”
“Tonight?”
He nodded. “My meeting with Richard Francis. Now more than ever I’m hoping he can shed some light on Mwana’s whereabouts.” He dropped his hand to both of hers, squeezed them, then lifted her glass to her lips. “Finish the brandy. I can’t stand seeing you so pale.”
She sipped and felt marginally better as warmth flowed back into her body. Nick set the glass aside, sat down on the couch next to her, and pulled her into his lap.
“I can’t help but think you must really be regretting marrying me now.”
She looked up from where her head rested on his chest to see him staring down at her. For the first time, she saw the look of uncertainty and vulnerability in his eyes. “No, I don’t regret marrying you, Nick.”
“But?” He pressed.
“I can’t help think if we’d waited a little longer, gotten to know each other better, we wouldn’t be in trouble now.”
“You mean, you’d have realized the mistake you were making and bailed.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth. I’m trying—“
“We are where we are, pethi mou. For what it’s worth, I’m still crazy about you. I can’t take back what’s happened in the past. It’s what we do from here on in that matters.”
“What do you propose?”