Kidnapped by the Billionaire(53)

Elijah didn't ask what she meant. The same thing had occurred to him too. "You think he found out what your father was?"

Violet nodded. "I just don't know what else this could mean. My name is  on the front of it, for God's sake. And that note he left … " She trailed  off then looked up at Elijah. "He wrote ‘Be careful.'" Her eyes had gone  very wide, her skin the color of the snow outside. "He found out about  Dad. Theo knew what he was doing." It wasn't possible for her to get any  whiter, but somehow she did. "And he d-disappeared. They never found  his body, Elijah, but it was determined to be suicide. What if Dad-"         

     



 

"No." Elijah cut her off before she could finish. "Your father wouldn't  have arranged for his son's death. He wouldn't." And this too wasn't a  lie as far as Elijah knew. Fitzgerald had always been an old-fashioned  empire builder, and his children would have been part of those  ambitions. His son would have been his heir. Though perhaps if that son  had wanted nothing to do with his father's empire, Fitzgerald might have  turned nasty. The man had been of the opinion that anyone not for him  was against him.

"How do you know?" There was a strange look in her eyes, a suspicion  that hadn't been there before. "You don't know why Jericho wants me so  badly. How do you know Dad wouldn't murder his own son?"

He wished he could be more certain, take that burden at least from her.  But he couldn't. What had happened to Theodore Fitzgerald had occurred  before Elijah had come on the scene, and his boss had never spoken about  it. "I can't be sure," he admitted, hating that he couldn't give her  the confirmation she was obviously desperate for. "He was ruthless when  people wouldn't do what he wanted them to do."

Violet looked away from him, her luscious mouth white around the edges.  "Dad was distraught when Theo disappeared." The words sounded like she  was talking half to herself. "He had the entire New York police  department searching for him. And I can't believe that was an act. I  just  …  can't."

What could he say? Nothing. Because he knew what he did about Evelyn  Fitzgerald, and the man was an actor of Oscar-worthy proportions. The  role of distraught father would have been just another part he'd played.  But he couldn't tell Violet that. Not now.

"You have no proof your brother is dead though." He made his voice hard  and sharp to cut through that horrible, shuttered look on her face. To  give her at least one fact that wasn't bad. "Did you ever think he might  have faked his own death?"

Violet blinked, her throat moving as she swallowed, visibly trying to  pull herself together. And it was instinct that had him reaching for her  before he even realized what he was doing, sliding his arm around her  waist and drawing her in so her soft heat rested against him.

She looked up sharply, staring at him, surprise in her eyes. Then, after  a moment, she put one hand on his chest, her fingers splaying out.  There was something about the way she did it, something about the heat  from her palm seeping into him, like a connection was being forged  between them.

It made part of him want to pull away, deny it, because a connection  with her was the last thing he wanted. And yet he couldn't bear to move.  It would hurt her, and hurting her, as he was beginning to find out,  was something he just wasn't prepared to do.

"I guess he could've," she murmured. "I mean, I never believed the  suicide verdict. I just wasn't ever clear on why he would do something  like that. He had nothing to escape, or so I thought."

She had started to relax against him, as if she'd done this thousands of  times before, absorbing his strength and his warmth, taking comfort  from him like this was the most natural thing on earth for her to do.  And he felt satisfaction uncurl inside him, lazy as a cat stirring in  the sun.

It was good to provide her with comfort. Good to be there for her. And  damn good for her to take it from him without question, without protest.  As if she never expected him to do anything else.

"Looked like he had plenty to escape." Elijah's voice was all rough  around the edges and threaded through with heat, and he couldn't seemed  to adjust it, make it as hard and cold as it had been before. Instead he  tightened his arm around her, holding her close. "The real question is  if he did fake his own death, what's he doing now?"

She had relaxed totally now, leaning into him. "Maybe the answer is on that memory stick?"

"Possibly. We need to get home, have a look at it." Pity he would have  to move to get there. Because right now, he was perfectly happy standing  in the corridor of a storage facility with Violet in his arms.

At that moment, his phone buzzed.

Fucking wonderful timing.

He shifted his hold on Violet, reaching into his back pocket and taking  it out. Then, as he looked down at the screen, cold began to spread out  inside him. He knew the number. Jericho.

Without a word he let Violet go and turned, taking a few steps away as he hit the accept button. "What?"

"Change of plan, Mr. Hunt." The voice on the other end of the phone was  male, slightly nasal, and spoke in French. "You and Miss Fitzgerald will  meet Jericho at the designated place in half an hour."         

     



 

A burst of adrenaline flooded through him. "We agreed tomorrow," he said  in the same language, trying to keep himself cold and focused. "That  was the plan."

"And I am changing it." The voice sounded completely calm.

Elijah glanced toward Violet, who was looking back at him, her  expression wary. "You can't change it, you prick. I have what you want."

"Perhaps he doesn't want it as much as you think he does."

Jesus. Elijah turned his back on Violet. "Does he want her dead?"

"Half an hour, Mr. Hunt. Don't be late." There was a click and the line went dead.

Elijah gave a savage curse, anger licking up inside him.

Half an hour was no time to get to Battery Park let alone contact the  people he needed to be in place too. Which meant his plan for keeping  Violet safe was in severe jeopardy.

Rage seethed inside him, seeded through with sharp bits of icy fear.

No, fuck, he could not allow either emotion any control in this situation. He had to be sharp, and cold, and ruthless.

"Elijah?" Violet's voice from behind him, concern edging her tone.

Struggling to get himself in hand, he turned back around and met her  gaze. There was concern in the depths of her eyes, and a trepidation  that began to turn into fear. Clearly she'd seen the black rage on his  face.

"Jericho," he said flatly. "He's changed the meeting time. We have to go now."

Her eyes went wide. "Now?"

"He gave me half an hour."

"But I'm not-"

Elijah walked back to her and took her upper arm in a hard grip, cutting  off her words. He had no time for reassurance now. No time for comfort.  This was what he'd worked toward all those years and he was not letting  it slip through his fingers.

But he wouldn't let her get hurt. He just had to come up with some way  to get his revenge and to keep her safe in the next half hour. Easy.

"We have to go, princess." He paused and even though he had no time for  any of that, he added. "Don't worry. I'll make sure you're okay."

Then he turned and began to walk fast toward the exit, pulling her with him.



Violet didn't think she could take much more. She'd had enough of  secrets. Of hidden pasts. Of her family virtually disintegrating in  front of her eyes. Of being kidnapped and threatened. And now she had to  deal with this. As if having to go through Theo's things and finding  that memory stick he'd clearly left for her wasn't bad enough, she was  now on her way to a meeting with a crime lord called Jericho. Where she  would be the bait that would enable Elijah to finally kill him.

Not that that wasn't what she wanted as well, she'd just thought she'd  have a little more time to build up to it. At least time to process what  she'd discovered at the storage facility and see what message Theo had  left for her.

But apparently not. Apparently fate had other ideas.

Elijah's grip was tight on her arm as they exited the building and he  started scanning up and down the street, looking for a cab. At first  she'd thought it was because he was afraid she would run, especially  after they'd gotten outside and he'd pulled her in close to him. But  then he'd released her for a second before sliding an arm around her  waist and pulling her in even closer. And that didn't feel like he was  afraid she'd get away. That felt like he was holding her because he  wanted to touch her, because he wanted to protect her.

He'd already told her that morning he was going to make sure she was  safe, but even though he'd just reiterated that, she didn't feel safe.  She felt like she was walking into a bear trap.

Amazingly, a taxi pulled up almost as soon as Elijah had stuck out his  hand, and he wasted no time, pulling open the door and bundling her into  it. Then he slid in beside her, closing the door and giving the address  to the cabbie.