Page 124 of Blaire
“She's smart,” Charlie says. “Knows technology and numbers like a second nature, so everyone keeps saying.”
I don't think it's true—that Maksim outbid a government agency for me—not for a second. I think he made it up to stop others from prying about the fact that he bought or stole me.
But, then again, Maksim did know about my skills before I even told him, and he's cashed in on them, big time.
Maybe it is true.
“Cutting the story short,” Charlie says, drawing my attention; I hold my breath to listen in, “Maksim took Blaire and locked her up for years—conditioned her to evoke loyalty and worship, and it's worked a treat. She only has to hear that someone's gonna hurt him and she'll make hell rain on earth.”
“Jesucristo,” that guy says, and I imagine he's raking his fingers through his hair—it's the tone of his voice. “Who told you all this?”
“Carl.”
“Is it true what they say about her fighting talent?”
Charlie chuckles under his breath. “Yeah, she's as dangerous as hell. I've been full on sparring with her and while I suspect she thinks I've been holding back, I haven't. She's just like Nic told us.”
Nic?His brother Nicolas?
“Doesn't Carl know where she comes from or what government wanted her? Because if this is true, the bodying government will have a paper trail that we can get access to. All we have to do is contact them and we'll get the information you want.”
“Carl doesn't know where she comes from,” Charlie says. “Believe me I've asked. I've also asked Maksim and Tatiana but they're playing their cards close to their chests.”
They talk for a while about what I'm like; how I word things; how I analyze things. I don't get why they're discussing me like this. What's their objective?
“She's got a slight Russian accent,” Charlie says, “so I started my search based on that, but I know she doesn't come from Russia or Ukraine, nor England or America for that matter. I've checked every country.”
“Don't take this the wrong way,” that guy says, sounding wary, “but, have you bothered to ask her where she originates from?”
Charlie scoffs, and the floor just inside the doors near to where I am creaks. “She's as likely to fight me as to speak to me about herself. Trust me, she doesn't say anything without Maksim's permission.”
I take a step back to stay hidden.
“Okay... Do you know her last name?”
Silence between them. The creaking moves further and further away.
I assume Charlie has shrugged at his friend, because his friend says, “She has to have a last name. Put her photo through every government system. Search the missing person's database. Have her fingerprint checked.”
“I have had her fingerprint checked,” Charlie says, “and nothing. How'd you think I searched the government ID database for her?”
I'm numb to the touch, mentally digesting what he's saying about me.
“All I know is, she drives illegally in a Porsche that would cost the average person four years of wages, doesn't own a real passport, and she's got no friends. I've searched every inch of her apartment for information and ID but found nothing.”
How the hell has he gotten a hold of my fingerprint?
My mind whirls from every cup I've touched to every piece of cutlery.
And what the fuck is he doing snooping through my things?
“Maksim lets her drive a Porsche?”
“Kinda.” Charlie tells him that I've got my own money. “Piles of it in her apartment and in the glove compartment of her car, and she's got an offshore account with a few million in it.”
My jaw drops. He knows how much money I have in my bank account?
“Huh?” that guy says, absolutely confused. “So, if she's minted, why does she live under Maksim?”