A very Corporate Affair 2(35)

As soon as I left the office, the strange 'being watched' sensation began again. I looked around before getting into the taxi, but nothing seemed amiss. The driver had his ID, and was a regular with the car service that the company used. He chatted about the weather as we headed to Woolwich, but I wasn't paying attention, as I kept checking the side mirror to see if we were being followed.

He waited outside while I registered mum's death, producing the coroners letter as proof of cause. It was a shocking moment, seeing your parent's death certificate for the first time. I got three copies, and stuffed them in my handbag, wanting to get out of there.

As I left the registry, I was certain I caught a glimpse of a man watching me. I couldn't be sure, it was so fleeting, one moment there, then gone in the blink of an eye. I hurried back to the car, and watched behind us all the way to Welling. By the time we got there, I was convinced we were being tailed by a maroon van. I quickly ducked into the undertakers, and arranged the funeral for two weeks time. I had decided on a cremation at Eltham crematorium, and booked the larger chapel in case Ray got carried away with the invites.

It took nearly an hour to sort all the details out and get them booked. I was nervy, and jumpy, half expecting someone to burst through the door any moment. I thanked the undertaker for all his help, and checked the street outside before jumping into the waiting car. We pulled away, heading towards Shooters Hill, and checking behind us, I caught a glimpse of a maroon van about four cars back.

My hands were shaking as I pressed the speed dial for Ivan's number. He picked up on the second ring. "Are you having me followed?" I demanded. Silence. "Are you still there?" I asked.

"Yes, I'm still here."

"Well?"

"There is a security team assigned to your safety, yes."

"In a maroon van, currently in Welling?"

"You're not supposed to spot them," he said sulkily.

"Call them off NOW," I yelled, "and don't you DARE do that to me again. I nearly had a heart attack. Thought I was about to be kidnapped."

"They're only ensuring your safety."

"I'm perfectly safe Ivan. I don't need creepy men following me around thank you. I suggest you call them now, and tell them to leave me alone. If they persist in stalking me, I'll get this cab to pull over at the nearest police station. I'm not your girlfriend Ivan, you can't do stuff like this."

"Here's the thing Elle, if you'd have actually talked to me this week, you would have realised that most of my actions have been to keep you safe. From keeping Dascha happy, to buying controlling share of Conde Nast, and asking you to go there next week. It's all to keep you safe. We had a specific threat to your safety, so will you just indulge me for once, and let me deal with this?"

"Specific threat? Tell me exactly what that means please."#p#分页标题#e#

"A message was sent to us...."

"Keep talking."

"Basically saying you were at risk.."

"Of what?"

"Kidnap."

"Is that all?"

He paused, "no. They planned to hold you hostage."

"Who?"

"Russian mafia."

"Why?"

"Because Dascha cannot bear the fact I left her. She is jealous of you beyond all reason."

"So she's bullying you into fucking her?"

He laughed, "I couldn't fuck her if I tried. My dick does get a say in these things you know. She did the article to provoke me. Now I could have used an injunction and wrapped you in security, but she would have just gone to another paper or magazine, and dragged your name into it. By doing as she asked, I made sure no other publication would touch me. By publicly acknowledging Dascha,, and doing this deal for her, I'm keeping you as safe as possible. This problem should be solved by Wednesday, but until then, I need to make sure you're safe and protected."

"Ivan, this is mad. Give me the note, and I'll go to the police."

"That's the quickest way to get killed Elle. They won't mess about."

"So what does Dascha want? To marry you? To fuck you? You can't just play along with this forever."

"Oh, she doesn't want me. She wants Conde Nast. They wouldn't sell to her. I had to buy it using her father's money, get it sorted, which is where you come in, then give it to her as a goodbye gift."

"So if you don't, I get splatted?"

"Yes. So until this deals done, you're not safe. You're her insurance policy that I won't renege on the deal."

"Why the hell are you sending me in there on Monday then?"

"It's the safest place. She won't hurt you there, but she wants you within reach as an insurance policy. By Tuesday night at the latest, the deal will be done."