sent his right-hand man down there just a couple of hours ago to deal with them. Sergei would make sure the job got done right.
“You will keep looking. You will not stop until you find them. I want the girl alive—but kill the man. Don’t fuck up again.”
“Yes, sir.”
Grigori ended the call and then went over to the liquor cabinet and poured two fingers of scotch into a glass. He took a fortifying sip of the smoky liquid as he walked over to look at the view from his penthouse apartment. Central Park was a dark island surrounded by the blazing lights of New York City. Traffic moved far below, white and red lights inching through the narrow corridors between tall buildings.
He turned the glass from side to side in his hand, absently, and contemplated what he planned to do to Sophie Nash when he got her back in his possession. He snorted and took another sip of scotch.
In truth, he would do nothing. He couldn’t mar her skin, and he damn sure couldn’t violate her body. No, she was worth too much the way she was. He had buyers for a girl like her, and he wasn’t going to ruin his profit by punishing her—though she deserved it.
He’d taken too much time with her. When she’d caught his eye at the charity event last month, he’d known she would fetch a pretty price. She was a lush beauty with abundant curves, and there were men who would pay a premium for that. If she was a virgin, even better.
She wasn’t, as she’d told him haltingly one night when he’d asked, but it didn’t really matter because he would market her as a virgin anyway. There were ways to ensure the end buyer believed he’d gotten what he’d purchased.
He should not have lost his temper with her when she’d come to tell him she wanted to stop seeing him for a while. Had he not done that, she would have never run away. And she would not have taken his flash drive.
The mere thought of the theft twisted his gut into knots. It was not the only flash drive with the information stored on it—he’d lost access to nothing—but it still contained critical intelligence. Things he would not want anyone else to know.
It was encrypted, of course. But someone with skill could break it eventually. That was always the way of it. He knew because Zoprava funded a network of hackers in Russia, presumably to test the limits of his software but really to steal credit card numbers and other personal information from people around the world. They then packaged and sold that data to third parties who exploited it for gain. Of which he got a cut, naturally.
If someone like one of his hackers got ahold of the drive, they’d decrypt it in hours. He could not afford to take the chance.
Therefore, he needed Sophie back—and he needed that drive. Once it was secure, he would put her on a plane and send her to his private auction in Monte Carlo where she would be sold to some fat billionaire who would take her home and use her for his pleasure until he was tired of her. Then she would either be put into a brothel or killed. It mattered not to him.
His phone rang again and he answered, hoping it was news to put him in a better mood.
“She visited a shipping facility before she boarded the train.” It was Sergei’s voice. “There was a security camera.”
“And?”
“She mailed a package and she paid with a credit card. We don’t know where she sent the package yet, but Evgeny is trying to hack into the system. As soon as he does, we’ll have an address.”
Had she mailed the flash drive? Or something else? Whatever it was, he couldn’t afford to ignore this piece of information. She’d run from his office, stopped to mail a package, and boarded a train. Odds were good the package was something he wanted.
“How long will this take?”
“Evgeny says the network security is good. It will take some time to break through. A day, no more. He will call me when it is done.”
Grigori swore in both Russian and English. “As soon as you know,
“You will keep looking. You will not stop until you find them. I want the girl alive—but kill the man. Don’t fuck up again.”
“Yes, sir.”
Grigori ended the call and then went over to the liquor cabinet and poured two fingers of scotch into a glass. He took a fortifying sip of the smoky liquid as he walked over to look at the view from his penthouse apartment. Central Park was a dark island surrounded by the blazing lights of New York City. Traffic moved far below, white and red lights inching through the narrow corridors between tall buildings.
He turned the glass from side to side in his hand, absently, and contemplated what he planned to do to Sophie Nash when he got her back in his possession. He snorted and took another sip of scotch.
In truth, he would do nothing. He couldn’t mar her skin, and he damn sure couldn’t violate her body. No, she was worth too much the way she was. He had buyers for a girl like her, and he wasn’t going to ruin his profit by punishing her—though she deserved it.
He’d taken too much time with her. When she’d caught his eye at the charity event last month, he’d known she would fetch a pretty price. She was a lush beauty with abundant curves, and there were men who would pay a premium for that. If she was a virgin, even better.
She wasn’t, as she’d told him haltingly one night when he’d asked, but it didn’t really matter because he would market her as a virgin anyway. There were ways to ensure the end buyer believed he’d gotten what he’d purchased.
He should not have lost his temper with her when she’d come to tell him she wanted to stop seeing him for a while. Had he not done that, she would have never run away. And she would not have taken his flash drive.
The mere thought of the theft twisted his gut into knots. It was not the only flash drive with the information stored on it—he’d lost access to nothing—but it still contained critical intelligence. Things he would not want anyone else to know.
It was encrypted, of course. But someone with skill could break it eventually. That was always the way of it. He knew because Zoprava funded a network of hackers in Russia, presumably to test the limits of his software but really to steal credit card numbers and other personal information from people around the world. They then packaged and sold that data to third parties who exploited it for gain. Of which he got a cut, naturally.
If someone like one of his hackers got ahold of the drive, they’d decrypt it in hours. He could not afford to take the chance.
Therefore, he needed Sophie back—and he needed that drive. Once it was secure, he would put her on a plane and send her to his private auction in Monte Carlo where she would be sold to some fat billionaire who would take her home and use her for his pleasure until he was tired of her. Then she would either be put into a brothel or killed. It mattered not to him.
His phone rang again and he answered, hoping it was news to put him in a better mood.
“She visited a shipping facility before she boarded the train.” It was Sergei’s voice. “There was a security camera.”
“And?”
“She mailed a package and she paid with a credit card. We don’t know where she sent the package yet, but Evgeny is trying to hack into the system. As soon as he does, we’ll have an address.”
Had she mailed the flash drive? Or something else? Whatever it was, he couldn’t afford to ignore this piece of information. She’d run from his office, stopped to mail a package, and boarded a train. Odds were good the package was something he wanted.
“How long will this take?”
“Evgeny says the network security is good. It will take some time to break through. A day, no more. He will call me when it is done.”
Grigori swore in both Russian and English. “As soon as you know,
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