Den of Mercenaries: Volume Two Read online

  There was the traditional spelling of the poison, bella donna, but whenever the woman picked up a pen, she wrote it as if it were her own name. Both lethal and unassuming in its flower form, it also described the woman who bore it well.

  Ada didn’t know the meaning behind it, and had never felt comfortable enough to ask, but each idea she had were all rather gruesome considering the effects of the poison.

  “Let’s speak in your office,” she suggested, eyes sweeping the corridor. “I trust it’s a bit more private in there.”

  Surveillance cameras were installed in the main foyer, audio recorders as well, but for the sake of the clients—and Ada, as it were—all the private offices weren’t bugged in any way.

  She risked one last glance at the man standing behind Belladonna before turning back for her office, unease settling into her heart as she tried to think of why they were here rather than the reason she hoped they weren’t.

  Despite the many accounts she’d pilfered through, Belladonna’s hadn’t been one of them.

  Inside her office, Ada flipped the light switch, circling her desk before sinking down into her chair, watching as Belladonna did the same—her guard remaining standing—before she turned her computer back on.

  For the last year, she had taken more than one odd meeting with the woman across from her, yet she still wasn’t used to being in her presence. Not just in the way she dressed—always in white, no matter the occasion—but also in the way she carried herself.

  Plenty of women, especially the wives and mistresses of the men she did business with here, also looked the part, but they all had a tendency to be a bit more ostentatious.

  The difference, they say, between new money and old.

  Belladonna wasn’t dripping in jewels, nor did she wear an obnoxious fur coat as one of Ada’s former clients, Carmen Rivera, had done often despite the California weather.

  In fact, besides a pair of pearl-shaped diamond earrings, she wore no other jewelry or embellishments at all.

  Funny, really, considering she was worth more than half a billion dollars, and that amount was just from the accounts Ada knew about.

  “Apologies,” she said, glancing down at the calendar left open on her desk. “I didn’t think we were meeting for another few weeks.”

  Belladonna offered a pleasing smile, crossing one leg over the other. “In the interest of time, I needed to move our meeting up. Considering the last few weeks I’ve had, I can’t afford to risk waiting any longer.”

  Ada hadn’t the slightest idea what she was on about, but she didn’t voice that thought aloud. She was thankful, however, that their conversation seemed to be about her rather than anything Ada might have been doing. “It’s no trouble at all. Did you have questions about your account?”

  She gave a demure wave of her hand. “In due time, but for now, I want to talk about you.”

  Ada swallowed, that earlier relief dying a quick and sudden death as she forced herself to meet the woman’s gaze. “Me?”

  “And after,” Belladonna went on as if Ada hadn’t spoken. “If you do exactly as I say, you’ll come out on the other end of this relatively unscathed.”

  “Unscath—I’m sorry. Come out the other end of what?”

  “In three months’ time, you’ll be taken by … well, I’m not sure what Nix’s pets are calling themselves these days, but you’ll know them when you see them.”

  Ada blinked, expecting her to laugh to indicate she was joking, but her expression never changed. “I … I don’t think I understand.”

  She couldn’t be serious.

  Not only was the idea ludicrous, but there was absolutely no way she could know this would happen—especially something that wasn’t supposed to happen for another three months.

  “How do you know about this? Who is Nix?”

  Was this a warning? Had she inadvertently done something to cross Belladonna in some way?

  She could account for the people she’d taken money from, and not once had she ever stolen from Belladonna.

  Too much mystery surrounded the woman.

  Others’ business practices were well known—arms, trafficking, and drugs alike—but no one ever spoke of just what Belladonna had done to amass her fortune.

  “You’re wondering if I know about the money,” Belladonna said carefully, reading her expression. “I do, but considering you’ve never stolen from me, I don’t particularly care what you do in your free time.”

  Her heart felt like it was ready to beat right out of her chest. She couldn’t even bring herself to confirm the woman’s words. Instead, she sat with her mouth clamped shut and her fingers clenched on the edge of her desk.

  “But don’t worry yourself,” Belladonna went on. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  Clearing her throat, Ada said, “Then I don’t understand why you’re here.”

  “As I’ve said. In three months, a team of hitters will walk into this very building, on this very floor, and take you from it.”

  “Because of the money?”

  “No,” she answered. “Because the Kingmaker will demand they do it.”

  That name she knew well—a name that made her heart sink in her chest, panic rooting itself where the organ had once been.

  If the Kingmaker was sending someone after her, that meant someone somewhere knew what she was doing and it was only a matter of time before everyone else knew too.

  And once they did, neither she, nor her family, would be safe.

  Sure, the thought of getting caught had crossed her mind several times over the many months she’d been secretly funneling money away, but she’d foolishly believed she would have more time to get her affairs in order—that she wouldn’t be found out until she was far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to find her—but with Belladonna’s presence across from her, that only meant one thing.

  Her time was up.

  Ada couldn’t find any words to say as she stared, mute, knowing there was nothing she could do now. Worse, she couldn’t even run if she wanted to, not with Belladonna’s silent guard standing at the door.

  “My time is short,” Belladonna went on, “so let’s curtail the, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ discussion.”

  Ada took a breath, trying to contain the panic she felt. “I-I can’t pay you if that’s what you want.”

  “The question isn’t what you can do for me, rather what I can do for you. And believe me, Ada, when I say I want to help you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the Kingmaker won’t be coming after you because of the paltry sum of money you took. He wants me, and unfortunately for you, you’re a way for him to get to me.”

  “Because I manage your books,” Ada guessed, trying to fill in the blanks.

  “Precisely.”

  Her gaze flickered to the guard. “I won’t say anything, I swear.”

  “You misunderstand. When he comes for you, I don’t want you to keep your mouth shut, I want you to tell him everything you possibly can about me. I suspect there’s not much.”

  None of what she was saying made sense, and Ada was starting to wonder if Belladonna knew that. “I don’t understand. You want me to give him access to your accounts?”

  “In short, yes.”

  “But why?”

  “Because the information will be what saves your life.”

  Ada was starting to realize that no matter how much Belladonna explained, no matter what questions she asked, she was never going to understand.

  And maybe that was the point. Maybe she wasn’t meant to understand.

  “Am I going to die?” she asked softly, thinking of the letter she would need to write her family—of the apology she should have given long before now, and the forgiveness that wouldn’t come in time.

  “Not if you do exactly as I say.”

  “Why are you helping me?” she asked meeting her gaze, genuinely curious. She couldn’t think of anything Belladonna was getting out of
this.

  She sighed, her dark hair sliding over her shoulder as she leaned forward and started to speak. “He and I are a chess game—king against queen. Except, I like to offer those he sees as pawns a chance to save themselves before their worlds implode. It seems only fair. It’s the same chance I’m offering you. I can’t make you accept my help, Ada, but if you want it, it’s yours.”

  “I do,” Ada said quickly, knowing she had no other options. “I want your help.”

  “Then prepare yourself,” she said with a smile that wasn’t nearly as sweet anymore. “It has to get worse before it gets better.”

  Chapter 1

  Three months later …

  Her heart in her throat, Ada watched the seconds tick by on the oversized chrome clock hanging up on the wall outside her office. The last hour of the work day was slowly creeping by, and as it did, she started to realize Belladonna had been wrong.

  Of course she had, Ada thought with a shake of her head.

  She wasn’t psychic. She couldn’t predict the future.

  No one was coming for her, and her theft was still unknown. She was sure of it.

  The first two weeks after Belladonna’s visit, Ada hadn’t been able to even think about looking into any of the accounts she’d taken money from, afraid that at any moment, the Kingmaker, or her boss, or someone, would raid her office with accusations and death threats.

  She had even tried to think of an explanation she could give should someone confront her, but there was no explanation that would be good enough. A couple hundred, or maybe even a few thousand dollars could be written off as a clerical error. More than a hundred times that amount? There was no way that amount could be explained away.

  Yet, despite the fear she lived with daily since that meeting and her desire to run as far away as she possibly could, it was important she go about her everyday routine. To act as if everything was normal.

  If she didn’t, someone would notice her absence eventually and it wouldn’t be long before her secret was out and she’d be tracked by far more than just one man.

  So despite the voice in her head initially telling her to run and not look back, she hadn’t wavered over the last three months. She woke up every morning, showered, ate breakfast, dressed and did her makeup, then went to work as if everything in her life was exactly the way she wanted it to be. She smiled when she needed to, laughed when it was appropriate, but today wasn’t like those other days and it was hard trying to fake it.

  Today, everything was supposed to change and there was nothing she could do about it but wait, and even as she told herself to stick to the plan Belladonna had lain out for her, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it. Today, she didn’t do what she had done yesterday and all the days before it. She’d changed her routine.

  After her shower this morning, she’d double checked the bags she packed the night before, ensuring everything she needed was tucked away before rolling the two lone suitcases down to the garage and packing them away in the backseat of her BMW.

  She took the garbage out and made sure even the smallest scrap of paper with any writing whatsoever was shredded and burned. She ensured, as much as she possibly could, that there was no trace of her left that someone could use to track her.

  Last, before she’d left, she’d paused long enough to say goodbye to the home she’d built for herself, knowing it would be the last time she ever stepped foot inside it.

  But now, it felt as if all of that preparation and all the worrying had been for nothing.

  No one was coming to kidnap her.

  No one, especially a man like the Kingmaker, had any interest in her at all.

  Her secret was still safe.

  Feeling foolish, Ada stood and walked out of her office toward the employees’ private restroom at the end of the hall. Inside, she stood in front of the sink, her fingers curled around the marble counter, and stared at her reflection in the mirror, trying to pull herself together—trying to recognize the woman looking back at her.

  How could no one else see the panic and fear written all over her face? How could they not see something was wrong?

  Dragging in a calming breath, she relaxed her hold on the sink and glanced down at her watch.

  Less than thirty minutes until it was all over and once it was, she would be gone for good, no matter what happened.

  Soon, this nightmare would be all over.

  The thought should have calmed her a little, but it still brought new questions of just how she was going to explain this to her family. She might have stolen enough money to float them for years to come, but they didn’t know where the money had come from or that it was stolen.

  Even if she explained that it would be better for Charles if they moved him to a different facility, her mum and sister would still have questions. The former might blindly go along with it because she trusted Ada, Marie might not.

  She wouldn’t understand why they would need to move without an explanation. There was her own life to consider.

  Marie could, if Ada explained it all to her, but she was terrified of the response she might receive if she told her just how she’d gotten her hands on that much money.

  Disappointment.

  She didn’t want Marie getting any ideas from her, either. It was enough that Ada was getting her hands dirty—she didn’t want that for her sister.

  Her mind set, Ada tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, making sure her appearance was as composed as she could possibly make it before heading back to her office.

  Almost over, she reminded herself. The day is almost over.

  She’d only cleared the doorway when a voice called out, “Is everything alright, Ada?”

  Frankie, one of the other accountants here, was walking out of her office, holding a mug of black coffee in her hand as she regarded her with a furrowed brow. They were the only two women working for the firm, and unlike the others that worked here, Frankie wasn’t in her twenties. She was closing in on her sixties, having worked for the firm for nearly ten years now.

  It was easy to trust a woman that looked like your grandmother.

  She’d come into the firm with the intent to leave after six months once she had twenty thousand dollars saved to offer for her grandchildren’s education, but when the money was good, it was hard to walk away from it all.

  “Fine,” Ada answered. “Just a bit tired.”

  And relieved that she was still alive to be tired. That wasn’t something she bothered to mention.

  “Are you sure?” Frankie asked in that maternal way all mothers managed. “You’re looking a bit pale … even for you.”

  Ada’s smile was a little more genuine now as her tension eased. “English genes.”

  Frankie didn’t look like she believed her, but she didn’t question it further. “Any big weekend plans?”

  An eleven hour flight to London, another three hour drive back down to the small little town where her family was living … “Probably Netflix and takeout,” she answered instead with a casual wave of her hand.

  That, at least, wouldn’t sound too farfetched.

  Her image at the office had always been of someone that lived a rather boring life. Home. Work. A combination of both if she was feeling adventurous. She stuck to herself and liked it that way.

  And shopping.

  If nothing else, that was one thing she didn’t mind sharing about herself with others.

  A closet full of designer dresses and expensive shoes she’d collected over the last five years would all be left behind.

  But better that than her life or the lives of her family.

  “I was thinking—”

  Frankie was still speaking, her lips moving as she spoke with a wide smile, completely forgetting her earlier worry, but Ada didn’t hear a word of it.

  Something flickered at the corner of her eye, forcing her gaze from her computer, to Frankie, then to the bank of elevators where Richard Bailey was standing, waiting to leave.<
br />
  But his ease disappeared as the bell pinged and the doors slowly slid open.

  Ada froze, not sure why unease swept through her, but the feeling only intensified as the barrel of a gun appeared.

  Belladonna hadn’t lied.

  She hadn’t been wrong.

  They were here.

  The sound of a gun cocking was impossibly loud a second before a gunshot rang out, plaster raining down from the ceiling where the bullet struck.

  It was enough to unfreeze her as she jolted, ducking beneath her desk as four men moved forward and out of the elevator in uniform precision.

  One of them—the one wearing a black mask—tossed a tiny device onto the floor. She waited, expecting the floor to explode, but instead of a bomb, a voice spoke.

  “Get on the floor and put your hands out in front of you. Do as you’re told and you will not be harmed.”

  It was odd, the combination of the voice that spoke with such calm clarity compared to the fear coursing in her veins, but everyone in the room did as instructed.

  “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Frankie chanted over and over, her blue eyes wide and filled with tears. “This isn’t happening.”

  She fumbled at the collar of her shirt a moment, reaching for the cross that hung there, whispering a quick prayer beneath her breath.

  A necklace, Ada remembered, as a gift from her daughter for Mother’s Day.

  “They’re going to kill us all,” Frankie whispered frantically, tears already brimming.

  “They’re not.”

  The words were meant as an assurance, but even as Ada knew they were here for her and her alone, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t harm anyone else trying to get to her.

  “We don’t keep any money here!” Richard shouted, his words slightly muffled from the floor.

  Ada peeked out from beneath the small sliver of space at the bottom of her desk, just able to see the men in masks walking the length of the room, searching the sea of faces for hers, but one of them remained in the center of the room, turning his head slowly, his body poised and ready. The leader, if she had to guess, from the way he held himself and the way each of the masked men looked in his direction for a nod or a quick shake of his head.