The Price of Winning: London Calling Book Four (23 page)

Sebastian nodded. Madeleine must have come here first to confront him then caught up with Natalie later.

“Frank and I have been providing surveillance on your house. I enlisted my father and his best friend to help, but don’t mention that to Angeline. They’re watching the club.”

“I have a security team, Dominic. Everything is in hand.” Sebastian’s voice was graveled with fatigue.
 

“Apparently not, because I tossed a man off your wall earlier tonight who was looking to get inside.” Dominic met his gaze with a level one of his own. “We almost had him, but he moved faster than I bargained after coming down. Still, he should have a nasty bruise from that cane of yours, Frank.”

Frank held up a silver-handled walking stick. “From my daughter. I don’t need the damn thing, but she thought it would make me look distinguished.” He barked, laughing as his breath wheezed in and out of his lungs. “Came in handy tonight, though, didn’t it Nicky?” The other man grinned. “I got him right across the kneecaps. Sent him howling, but he was determined to get the hell away.”

A human set off his alarm, not a rabbit or squirrel. Still, Sebastian laughed, amused in spite of the situation. “Never mind about the job, Frank. You two are a perfect pair.” He cast his attention on Dominic. “Did either of you get a look at him?”

Dominic nodded, a muscle clenching in his jaw. “I did. He was an oily son-of-a-bitch with black hair and eyes to match. Hair was long, tied back in a ponytail.” Dominic’s mouth twisted, grim.

“Dimitri Petrov.” Sebastian clenched his fists against his thighs. “I recognize the description. He’s a nasty piece. He seems to be some sort of kingpin among the traffickers I invited. The rest of them are scared of him.”

The door to the carriage house opened, admitting his chief security officer, Ted. He strolled into the sitting room to lean against the arched opening. His brows quirked up when he saw the other two men.
 

“Good news and bad news, Mr. Payne.” He gave his attention to Sebastian. “No trace of anyone in the house. But it looks like someone was close. They left a souvenir in the walled garden.”

Dominic spoke up. “That’s where I got him, on top of that wall. He must have tossed or dropped something down.” He looked at Ted. “I’m Dominic Martin. Frank and I were keeping an eye on things and saw your guy. What did you find?”

Ted looked at Sebastian. He nodded, confirming it was okay to speak freely.

Ted help up a small, rectangular metal box with a toggle switch.
 

“What is it?” Sebastian leaned forward to peer at the device.
 

“Radio-controlled detonator.”
 

Everyone started talking at once. Ted held up a hand, waiting until he had everyone’s attention. “It didn’t have batteries in it, so it doesn’t appear to be connected to anything. I’m not sure why he had it.”

 
Sebastian pondered the meaning. Petrov didn’t do anything without a reason. And it wasn’t likely he’d make such an obvious mistake as triggering the security alarms. He wanted Sebastian to know he was there, personally. And he wanted him to find the empty detonator. “It’s a warning. Petrov is warning me.”
 

Dominic was shaking his head. “I don’t like this. Not one bit.” He rubbed his jaw, staring at the floor. His head popped up. “And where’s MP in all this? I assume she was home with you, so where is she?”

Sebastian blinked.
 

“I know she’s here, Payne. She ditched Natalie at the Jersey airport. It only took a few clicks to find out she came back to London.”
 

Sebastian ignored the fact that Martin played fast and loose with the law. Flight manifests were confidential information. “She was, yes. But we had a…disagreement. She left Club Hobart earlier.” He shook his head to clear it. “No, that was yesterday. She left my office in the afternoon.” His heartbeat was beginning to race. “She wasn’t here when I got home, so I hoped she’d gone to your place.” He felt rooted to his chair, heart now fit to explode. “But maybe she went to Austria. To join Natalie, like you’d planned.”

Dominic was slowly shaking his head. “A flight would have taken a couple of hours, depending how soon she was able to catch one. It’s possible she’s en route, but she’s not there now. I’ve talked to Nat. She’s alone.” He looked away.

A cold weight settled into Sebastian’s chest.
 

“We have to find her. She can’t be running around London while Petrov is here.” He crossed his arms over his stomach. “He met her. Yesterday at the club.”

Dominic cursed. He popped upright then was hurrying across the room, Frank hard on his heels. He looked back over his shoulder when he reached the exit.

“I happen to be good with computers.” His lips tilted up on one side, a tiny smirk. Then it was gone, replaced by confidence. Sebastian had the feeling he was being reassured.
 

“I’ll find her.” With that, Dominic disappeared into the night, with Frank at his side.

***

Madeleine asked the cabbie to drive north along the shore of Lake Michigan. When asked how far, she said to turn around if he reached the Illinois border.
 

She sat in the backseat, unseeing and unmoving. It was still early morning.
 

Her predawn flight had left London on time, arcing across the Atlantic so she could arrive to the parole hearing for Jeremy Green, scheduled for this morning.

She’d texted her attorney while waiting at the gate at Heathrow so he would expect her in Chicago. Previously, she’d told him she wouldn’t be coming. Then she shut her phone off and took a ten-minute power nap before boarding the plane.

 
That was the last time she’d slept. Her watch said it was only three hours later than when her flight left London. Her body reminded her it was actually nine.
 

She’d been unable to rest once the plane was in motion. She chalked it up to nerves, because of her decision to attend Jeremy’s hearing. It had been a split-second reversal, a lesser evil than staying in London while Sebastian destroyed himself.

Besides, after the debacle with Sebastian, she’d come to a few hard conclusions about her own behavior.

She was dependent, too needy.
 

Eight years ago Jeremy Green forced his way into her life. He’d pursued and stalked her until she stopped feeling like her life was her own. Every place she stayed, every city she visited became associated with him. He never left her alone.

Madeleine supposed that was the first time she let someone take over.

After his attack and incarceration, she told herself she was better. She took charge of her parents, made sure their medical expenses were covered. But in reality, they’d looked after her. As she became increasingly reclusive, they were the ones to visit, not her. When problems arose, they handled them.

Toward the end, she realized they became
her
caretakers, not the other way round.
 

Losing them was a devastating loss, but also a wake-up call. So she’d packed up and moved to Jersey, then London soon after. She convinced herself she was reclaiming her life.
 

Taking back ownership.

Of course, she hadn’t. Not really.
 

Sebastian decided everything. He made all the arrangements, even the ones for her parents’ ashes. He’d picked her up then handed her off to Angeline like a parcel. And when he concluded she was better off with him, he picked her up again and moved her in to his home in London.

And she’d agreed to everything, docile and biddable.
 

Dependent and needy.
 

Two words that never would have been used to describe her before Jeremy.

It all circled back to Jeremy Green. Sebastian wasn’t the only one who needed to reconcile with a painful past.

So here she was. Riding in the backseat of a taxicab up the shore of Lake Michigan. Not at a parole hearing.
 

She’d gotten off the plane at O’Hare and turned her phone on. A voicemail was waiting from her attorney. He was so sorry, but the hearing date had been moved forward. Since she’d categorically declined her invitation, and it only moved by one day, he hadn’t mentioned the change. Rather, he’d attended in her absence.
 

Yesterday.
 

She sighed and shifted, the leather seat squeaking beneath her legs. She glanced up to see the driver looking at her in the rearview mirror. She smiled, a little weakly, but still determined.
 

She wasn’t going to let the news throw her into a tailspin. This was the first real test to see if she could live up to the independence and strength of her old self. Resilience—that was the key.

Her attorney hadn’t said what the outcome was on his message, which was enough to tell her it wasn’t good. Most likely, Jeremy’s family influence combined with the murky world of Chicago politics had helped his parole hearing go in his favor. Even his original sentencing had been less than expected, triggering a local outcry against corruption.
 

She’d volleyed back a message asking for confirmation. In the meantime, Madeleine concentrated on accepting what could not be changed.

Fat drops of rain began pelting the taxicab, pulling her back into the moment. She leaned down to peer out the window.
 

“Damn. I thought I left the rain behind in London.”

Her driver chuckled. “Not here, Ms. Price. You know how Chicago weather is, year round. Summer gets the rain.”

It didn’t surprise her that he knew who she was. And it wasn’t upsetting, like it might once have been. She’d been a household face at one time. When her parents were killed, the local news had covered the story, including old clips from her career and the subsequent attack by Jeremy.
 

She leaned forward, placing her hands on the console between the front seats. “It looks a little nasty. Let’s turn back for Chicago.”

They hadn’t made it far, thankfully. The driver took the next exit then immediately merged back on the highway, going south this time. The wipers clacked in a steady rhythm as they tried to keep up with the rain sheeting down on the windshield.

“Ms. Price?”
 

Madeleine glanced up, meeting her driver’s eyes in the mirror again. “Hmm?”

“Where would you like to go?”

She closed her eyes for one long moment. She may have missed the parole hearing, but there was another demon she could confront. She snapped her eyes open and gave the address for the penthouse.

***

Madeleine forced herself to walk through her empty home. She felt nothing, no connection. She propped a shoulder against one of the windows in the living area.

Months ago she’d stood in nearly the exact same spot with Sebastian. They’d watched, horrified, as the explosions shook the building next door.
 

There had been so many days when she wondered if the outcome could have been different.
 

If she and Sebastian hadn’t rushed downstairs, would the gunman have spared her parents? If Sebastian hadn’t chosen that day to visit, would they have been upstairs instead?

She covered her hands with her face.
 

It did no good to let herself think like that. It was an endless spiral, heading nowhere but down.
 

Her parents were gone.
 

And the fault lay with an angry, unstable man who’d managed to get his hands on an assault rifle.

She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to the cool glass. She deliberately blanked her mind from thinking about Sebastian and how they’d left things.
 

With tears, hard words, and a gun.
 

This moment was for closure. She would never return to this penthouse. She knew that now. The building was a like a gravesite—solemn and melancholy.

She took out her phone, certain of her decision. She tapped in the numbers, waiting for Dominic to pick up.

“Madeleine. Where are you?”
 

She took one last walk through the rooms. “I’m in Chicago. At the penthouse.”

A pause.

“MP, why are you in Chicago?” His voice was tight. “Should you be by yourself there?”
 

She heard rustling.
 

“I can send someone over. So you’re not alone.”

She sighed. A person could be lonely no matter how many other people surrounded them.
 

“Dominic, I don’t want you to call anyone. I need to take care of some things myself.”
 

“Like what?” he fired back. “Why did you choose now to go to Chicago? You could be in Austria with Nat.”

She smiled in spite of herself. Like Sebastian, Dominic thought he could fix everything. Everyone.
 

“I’ll tell you if you promise not to overreact,” she said. “I came because it was the date for my attacker’s parole hearing.”

She would have sworn she heard Dominic grinding his teeth.
 

“Don’t interrupt,” she said. “I needed to handle it. Close the door on the whole mess.” She shrugged, finishing her tour of the condo. She picked up her keys.

“And it doesn’t matter anyway. They moved the date. It was yesterday.” Surprisingly, saying it out loud helped. There was no need to be upset about something over which she had no power. “So I decided to look in on the penthouse. I’ve decided to sell it.”

It took Dominic less than a beat to agree. “I think that’s a good decision, MP.” He paused, and she could tell he was thinking. “I’ll take care of it. Leave the keys with the doorman and you never have to go back. Okay?”

She breathed out a sigh of relief. On this she would accept his help. “Okay.” She closed the door to the penthouse behind her, grabbing the umbrella propped by the door. Her taxi driver had given it to her earlier, saying he had another in the trunk.

“When are you coming back?”

She rolled her eyes. The man wasted no time. “When I’m ready. Probably within a day or two. There’s nothing left for me here.” She punched the button, summoning an elevator.