The Price of Winning: London Calling Book Four (24 page)

“Good. Text me your flight details.”

She agreed, and they hung up, both satisfied with her decision. She was more than a little comforted that Dominic would handle the sale. The hard part was over.

She stepped into the lobby. It had been rebuilt and remodeled since the tragedy, but her breath still lodged in her throat. She hurried to the concierge, determined not to break down because he wasn’t Danny.

He was kind and helpful, taking the keys to her unit on the understanding a broker would be in touch to handle the sale. He nodded, his eyes shining with compassion.

“I’m very sorry about your parents, miss. The whole city grieved with you.”

She laid her hand flat on the desk. There would always be more good in the world than evil. “Thank you. I heard there’s a remembrance for the victims?”
 

He told her there was a memorial stone in the sidewalk between the buildings. It was engraved with the names of everyone who died that day.
 

Madeleine had missed it coming in. Head down, she’d been too focused on getting inside and past the lobby.

She thanked the new doorman then walked through the large revolving door to reach the outdoors. The rain had stopped, so she briefly considered leaving behind her umbrella. It was one of the old-fashioned, full-size ones that were great at their job but awkward to carry.

She looked up at the sky. That would probably be premature. She hooked the handle over her arm and searched for the memorial.

And there it was. Dark marble inlaid with brass along the borders. The names of every victim were etched into the stone.

Madeleine looked around her. A street vendor selling flowers was a few yards away. She strode over and bought an enormous bunch of irises.

Their sweet smell made her smile. Her mother had planted the fragrant flowers all around their house when they lived in Ohio. Madeleine always thought of her when she saw the velvety dark-purple blooms.

She walked back to the marble memorial and knelt, placing the bouquet at its base. She kissed her fingertips then pressed them to the stone over the names of her parents. Tears blinded her. Head down, she stayed for several long moments.

Finally, she took a deep breath.
 

She stood, a little unsteady. When she looked up, there was a camera flash, then another.
 

Her hands flew up to cover her face. How dare someone photograph her in such a private moment?

She hurried away, her steps faster and faster until she was running for her hotel two blocks away.

Questions were being shouted behind her. They weren’t unkind, just unwelcome. She ignored them, sprinting faster as she saw the entrance. A porter swung open the door, ushering her inside the hotel.
 

Another employee saw what was happening and sprung to action, summoning an elevator then tucking her inside.
 

Then, finally, she was in her room. She turned the lock then secured the bolt. Walking over to the bed, she toed off her shoes and collapsed on top.

Her breathing leveled as she calmed down, finding balance and perspective.

She’d lost her parents. She was pretty sure she’d lost Sebastian.

A few pictures in the Chicago Tribune were nothing, not really. Another thing that couldn’t be changed, but at least it was minor.

She might not even make the editor’s cut.
 

And even if she did, she assured herself no one was likely to pay much notice.

***

The next afternoon Sebastian sat in the library of Payne Manor with Dominic and Frank, grouped around an unlit fireplace.

“Where’s Angeline?”

“She’s following up on some supplies we need for tonight.” Dominic scratched the back of his neck. “She’d like to be here tonight, just in case.” He looked at Sebastian. “It might not be a bad idea to have eyes on the inside.”

Sebastian nodded. He scooted forward on his chair. “Did you find Madeleine?”

Dominic snorted. “She found me. And I’m not telling you anything until after tonight. You need to focus on the task at hand.” He stared down at his feet.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying her whereabouts would upset me?” He glanced at Frank. The other man quickly averted his eyes.

No answer.

His eyes volleyed between both men. They were stone-faced, staring at anything but him. He threw himself back in his chair. Next to him the fireplace sat empty, banked for the summer season.

He briefly considered putting the poker to good use. A little jab in the ribs might get Martin talking.

He decided on a tactical but temporary retreat. They had other things to discuss.

Frank cleared his throat. “Should we go over the plans again? One last time?”

“Sure,” Sebastian agreed. “Maybe with a little more detail this time. It is my operation, you know.”

Dominic crossed his arms. “In the beginning, sure. But now we’re all partners in this shit show.” He tapped his foot. “Okay.” He pointed his finger at Sebastian. “
You
will be at Club Hobart. You will make sure everyone else is too, playing poker as expected. And for God’s sake, Payne, tell your dealers to let them win more than they lose. They’ll be more likely to want to keep gambling.” He shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder how in hell you operate such a successful casino. It’s a testimony to Nat’s abilities.”

Sebastian prayed for strength. “I do understand the basic principles, Martin. My reluctance comes from…oh, I don’t know…maybe funding the Russian sex trade?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Frank intervened. “Gentlemen, if we could stay on topic?” He punctuated the request with a heavy sigh.

“Fine.” Dominic pointed his thumb at himself, motioning to include Frank. “Since Angeline will be at the estate, we’ll pull our extra detail—my father and his best friend—to be at the club. Any of us can be at the manor within minutes in case something happens.” He rubbed his jaw. “While you’re hosting the Russians, Frank and I will be breaking into their rooms at the Ritz.”

Sebastian cut in. “Whoa, you never said anything about that.” He scowled. “Why?”

“To see what I can extract from any stray laptops, for one thing. And to plant illegal guns.”

“What?” Sebastian roared.
 

“You heard me. And the police will find evidence of the real crimes when they seize their devices. I’ll make sure of that, too.” He glanced at his watch then threw up his hands. “We don’t have time for this. And we don’t have time for you to plan some months long elaborate scheme before you
possibly
set up a bust.” He checked his watch again. “Besides, from what I know of Russia, there’s no guarantee of conviction no matter how good the case. Corrupt is putting it mildly.” He stood up and walked to the door, Frank behind him. “They’re
here
. In
England
. I’m seizing the opportunity.”

Sebastian rushed after them, harried. “Wait.” Dominic ignored him, one foot already in the hall. “I said,
wait
.” Sebastian tugged on Dominic’s shoulder. “This doesn’t seem right.”

Dominic stiffened, slowly turning back around. “Are you kidding me? What, exactly? Are you worried about being fair? Because if life was fair, there wouldn’t be little kids out there being sold as sex slaves.”

Sebastian flinched as if Dominic had struck him. “I know that,” he shouted. Taking a deep breath, he lowered his voice. “Christ, I
know
that. But we can’t turn into the thing we hate.” He thought of Madeleine and the words she’d spoken. “This isn’t who we are.”

“Speak for yourself.” Dominic sneered. “Let me remind you of something, Payne. Petrov was here,” he pointed his finger down, indicating the estate. “He left a warning for you. Today, you found a trip trigger at your gate. Harmless, but another warning.” He flashed a cold smile. “And that’s the same man who met Madeleine and dared to lay his hands on her.” Dominic’s eyes were like cold, green ice. “Do you really want him to walk out of the country scot-free?”

Sebastian’s shoulders slumped. He shook his head once. “You’re right. Do what you have to.” Sebastian’s stomach felt like it was in free-fall. “But before you go, tell me where Madeleine is.”

The other man sized him up, as if weighing what he should say.
 

“The truth, Martin.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “I can handle knowing better than not.”

Dominic took a deep breath through his nose. “Okay, but you have to promise me you’ll keep your head in the game. There are a lot of people I care about who are trusting you to keep it together.” He paused, eyebrows raised.

Sebastian nodded.
 

“She’s in Chicago.”
 

Sebastian’s head reared back. “Why?”

“A parole hearing for Jeremy Green. Her stalker.” Dominic’s tone was harsh. But he must have seen the horror on Sebastian’s face, because his next words were softer. “It’s over. And she’s doing fine. They changed the date, so she missed it by a day.”
 

Sebastian grabbed his arm. “What was the ruling?”

“I don’t know.” He scrubbed a hand over his face then clarified. “
She
didn’t know yet. She said she’d be leaving in a day or two.”

Sebastian spun to walk across the room. He laid his forehead on the mantle of the fireplace, cursing himself viciously. He felt like his world was crumbling around him.

All his life, since losing Poppy, he’d wanted to help and protect others.
 

Yet Madeleine, the woman he loved most, went by herself to face her attacker.

No matter that she hadn’t done so. The point was she’d been alone.
 

He’d pushed her out of his life.

To be alone.

CHAPTER NINE

T
HE
MUFFLED
SOUND
of pounding stirred Madeleine out of a heavy, jet lag induced sleep. Groggy and completely disoriented, she reached for her watch on the bedside table.

Not there.

She knuckled her eyes, trying in vain to focus. She nearly slid off the bed when she tried to sit up. Her legs were hanging past the end, practically in the same position from when she flopped backward.
 

She yawned, her jaws cracking. A chill chased along her arms from the room’s air conditioning.

Right.

Her hotel room.
 

She stood, her legs decidedly wobbly beneath her. She went to the sink in the washroom and splashed cold water over her face until she felt moderately awake.
 

She didn’t really care what time it was. She had no appointments to keep, no commitments to see anyone. As for whoever was at the door, they could wait too. She certainly wasn’t expecting company.

She stripped off the clothes she’d chosen to wear to Jeremy’s parole hearing and let them drop to the bathroom tile. Unheeding of wrinkles, she left them where they landed and reached inside the oversized marble shower to flip on the water.

She stood beneath the waterfall spray for what seemed like hours, letting the steam gather and surround her. The kinks and soreness from her flight were all but gone. The stress from thinking about her attacker and what she might say to convince the board of his danger sluiced away too.

By the time she rinsed the citrus-scented conditioner from her hair, the only thing left was a numbing sense of melancholy.

She stepped out of the large cubicle, blotting her body with a thick towel before donning one of the soft terry robes provided by the hotel. She let her hair hang in wet ropes down her back.

Sliding on the matching slippers, she thought she might feel human again, despite the bleak nature of her thoughts.

She missed Sebastian. Somewhere near the vicinity of her heart, she ached with an acute regret born of sorrow. At their last meeting he’d cut a hole in her with his rejection, leaving her to bleed.
 

But Madeleine knew better than most that a broken heart couldn’t kill her.
 

She stood at the mirror, carefully combing her hair until no tangles remained. Reaching into her toiletry bag, she removed her styling products and applied them with the meticulous precision of a robot.

She cleaned her teeth and dabbed moisturizer on her skin.
 

If it was meant to be, he would find his way back to her. But she couldn’t stand by while he destroyed his own principles, convincing himself it was about justice.
 

He’d probably been deceiving himself for years.
 

But Madeleine couldn’t allow him to lie to her.

Somewhere along the way, his promise to Poppy had evolved into a ravenous thirst for vengeance. And Madeleine simply couldn’t be part of that.

It wasn’t that she didn’t understand. She did.

Hiding away from the world wasn’t really so different than an endless pursuit of evil. Both ate away at a person, eroding their sense of self until only the event that changed them remained.

And neither approach worked. When terrible things happened, a person could try to understand them, make some kind of meaning out of them. Certainly that was what Sebastian had done. And it was a noble undertaking to find a sense of purpose that helped other people.