Page 3 of Tangled Roses

I keep my head down and try to avoid the crowds, although it’s almost impossible on the busy streets of New York. There is always someone in my way and I am shoved and shouted at so many times, I’m oblivious to it.

As I walk, I ignore everyone and everything around me as I pull my cap down over my head and place my ear buds in so I can listen to my playlist, effectively blocking everything out.

Perhaps I should have been more alert and more watchful of my surroundings because suddenly I’m shoved hard from behind into a huge person in front of me and as I raise my head to object, something is pressed hard against my face and then complete oblivion.

CHAPTER 2

ARMAN

Iglance at the text with a level of disinterest that surpasses my usual irritation.

Luka

Mission accomplished.

I huff with frustration as I lean back in my seat and glance out of the window at the sidewalk below.

The people scurrying along it may as well be ants, and as I glance at my watch it’s as if the world is closing in on me.

Kidnap.

Not what I usually endeavor to do each day, but this particular crime was thrust upon me with hardly any notice.

My thoughts briefly touch on the woman who has fallen into my web and then they leave almost as quickly.

I don’t have time to reward the curiosity that is edging aside the real reason I’m here.

Business.

It’s always business and it always will be.

The door opens and I already know who will push through it. There is only one man who is excused from knocking and it belongs to my right hand. Luka.

His expression gives nothing away as he takes the seat before my desk and leans back, fixing me with a blank expression, waiting for me to speak.

“Where is she?”

“The home in the Hamptons.”

“Risky.”

I arch my brow and he shrugs. “I didn’t say which one.”

It causes me to smile briefly because Luka is a cunning son of a bitch and, knowing him, our captive could be in any one of them.

“We have work to do.” I reply simply and he nods as I turn my attention to the screen and say as an aside. “Nikolai Barinov?”

“Currently in a hire car a few miles from JFK.”

“Heading?”

“City center.”

I glance in his direction and he smirks.

“Sasha and Orel are tailing him. We will follow his movements courtesy of the tracking devise we installed in the car before he collected it.”

“Sloppy.”