Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
When the woman moaned in pleasure, Sam breathed out and pushed the pillow off his face. He stared at the dark ceiling, willing himself to relax and go to sleep, but he couldn’t. He didn’t feel safe enough to sleep.
He wanted Nick.
Cringing, Sam turned onto his stomach but he felt too exposed that way so he turned on his back again, his skin crawling with unease.
He wondered what Dominic was doing. Was he still at headquarters, trying to sort out the mess the Whitford mission had become? Or was he looking for him?
Suppressing the traitorous desire to be found, Sam thought about what he should do to avoid being found. Maybe he should dye his hair. Red hair was too noticeable. He should also avoid CCTV cameras for a while. Surely Dominic would give up looking for him after a few weeks?
Ignoring the pathetic hope in his chest—hope that he was more important to Dominic than that—Sam turned to his side and hugged his thin pillow. He didn’t feel lonely. He didn’t feel scared. He didn’t feel heartsick.
He just wanted his Nick.
He couldn’t imagine never seeing him again, never feeling his arms around him, never—
“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” he whispered thickly. His choked, wet breaths turned to tears, his body shuddering as he tried to breathe, his eyes squeezed tight.
He was strong. He wasn’t going to go running back to Dominic.
He was strong.
Chapter 30
Six months later
It was an accident.
That was the maddening part of it. He had been trying so hard not to be a pathetic pining idiot and live his life to its fullest, without thinking of Dominic every two minutes, and he was doing so well (all right, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but still)! He was doing okay. Okayish. He thought about Dominic no more than ten times a day, which was… more than a little depressing but still a huge progress.
So yeah, it had been a total accident. He hadn’t been looking for any news concerning Dominic. He had curbed that urge months ago.
The newspaper had been lying innocently on the table in the kitchen area. It probably belonged to Dave or Patty. Sam had intended to read the Sports section when he’d picked it up, but he froze when he caught the familiar surname in one of the headlines.
Whitford heir dating a Russian oligarch.
And there, just under that headline, was a picture of Luke Whitford smiling at Roman Demidov.
Sam stared at the picture. Then he skimmed the article. It was pretty informative. It stated that Demidov had recently moved the headquarters of his business empire from Geneva to London and intended to invest in local business. The newspaper implied that Demidov moved to England for the sole purpose of being close to his sweetheart.
That made Sam scoff. If that cold-eyed man was capable of love, he would eat his hat.
But it made him wonder why Demidov had moved to England. If it was true that Luke was dating him, that pretty much confirmed that Luke was involved in the death of his own father.
Frowning, Sam skimmed the rest of the article. It said that the happy couple intended to spend Christmas in Switzerland where Roman’s family still lived.
Sam stroked his lip thoughtfully. If their sources were correct, Demidov’s house would be empty on Christmas.
Sam shook his head, setting the newspaper down.
It was crazy. He wouldn’t dare.
It was none of his business, anyway. Considering what he did for a living, it would be the height of hypocrisy to suddenly want to help the authorities.
But…
It was ultimately his fault that MI6 had failed to infiltrate Whitford Industries.
Wouldn’t it be right to correct his own mistake?
* * *
At first Sam considered breaking into Luke’s penthouse, but the building’s security was too tight. It was disappointing—and interesting. Sam didn’t remember Luke’s security being so good when Dominic had been dating him.
Figuring that since Luke was in cahoots with Demidov, the Russian must possess enough incriminating information, Sam decided to focus on Demidov’s house.
It didn’t take him long to find out where Demidov lived. Billionaires weren’t exactly known for being inconspicuous.
So two days before Christmas, Sam watched Roman Demidov put his suitcase into his car and drive away.
Sam stared at the big house and didn’t move from his spot. He had to be careful. After his stint with MI6, Sam had an idea what kind of crazy security measures the Russian might have. Sam suspected there was no way in hell he could break into that house without tripping security alarms.
But he didn’t have to break into it.
He could… acquire the keys.
Men like Roman Demidov might have top-notch security measures, but rich men didn’t do their own housekeeping, especially when they lived alone. They had servants. And servants had copies of keys.
After watching the house for hours, Sam’s patience was finally rewarded in the evening when a middle-aged woman came out of the house. Probably some kind of housekeeper, if he had to guess. He watched her lock the door. When she got into her car, Sam quickly climbed onto the bike he’d borrowed from Scotty and followed her.