Debt Collector's Due

She’s like a damn fairy Godmother scooping things off shelves into a cart, matching, mixing, explaining. I soak it all in. I’ve never had a woman around. Me Ma died when I wasn’t more than nineteen, and I’ve been on my own since, so this is educational. The women I bed to scratch my itch are nothing more than ships passing in the night. They’re out with the sun and know I’m not looking for repeats. Loaded up with bags, I say my goodbyes to Janet, fill the back of my car, and head back in for clothing. I’m not touching this one. I’d make a bloody mess of it, and piss her off with the wrong things. I hired a personal stylist instead and booked an appointment.

Never let it be said Porter doesn’t think ahead. He forwarded sizes and photos of what she wears. I sent them to my stylist who should be ready with a few weeks’ worth of clothing. I don’t want her walking into a home where nothing belongs to her. I know that feeling. It’s devastating to have nothing more than the clothes on your back. Porter set up an account with money no one can touch but her. She’s set for life, but I know her. She won’t want to rest on her laurels. That girl always had to be doing something. From volunteerism to college and a healthy social life, she never lacked for things to do.

I have cousins, associates, and a few close mates with spouses. Perhaps she can start building a social network with them. I enter the store and make my way to the counter. The woman in a chic black pantsuit catches my eyes. Her dark-brown hair is pulled back in a low ponytail from her ova

l-shaped face.

“Jennifer?”

“Yes, Mr. Bowring. It’s so lovely to meet you.”

We shake hands.

“Likewise.”

“If you want to have a seat, I’ll bring out the rack with the outfits I’ve chosen.”

I nod my head as we move to the seating area. I lean back and prepare myself for hell. Brace yourself; clothing is coming.

***

I step out of the black town car, shove my hands in the pockets of my trench coat, and peer up at the sky. It’s a full moon, and here in the low lit area, the stars are numerous. The full moon shines down, and I wonder if it’s an omen of some sort. Ifan remains in the car. I wanted him with me on this. I’m not sure what I’ll tell people about her. It’s something we need to work out together. That means only those I trust implicitly know of her arrival. I walk the grounds, scouting for anyone who shouldn’t be there. The coast is clear.

I pace the grounds, to full of nervous energy to remain still. The sound of an airplane raises the hair on the back of my neck. After all this time, she still gets under my skin and makes my stomach drop into my boots. I wipe my palms off on my slacks and move to prop against the car, partially to hide the fact that my knees are weak and partially to fake nonchalance. There was never remaining unaffected when it came to Athena Douglas.

Chapter Three

Athena

I stand, ready to defend my son against whatever awaits us outside. I want to trust my father, but our ideas about what’s best for me and my son have often differed. He’d choose safety over happiness every time. To be safe against those families, he must’ve chosen someone powerful and far. My best guess is we’re somewhere in Europe or beyond. We have ties with a number of families around the world. The Russians have always worked closely with my father importing and exporting. They’ve both made money hand over fist, but they’re cold and dominating. The thought of being forced to live among them frightens me. I would be a terrible fit and stand out like a sore thumb.

I unbuckle the seat belt.

“Are we here?” Kier asks.

“Yes. I need you to stay here while I meet our hosts.”

“Where are we?”

“I don’t know. Papa wanted to surprise us.” I’m lying. I can’t bear to tell him the truth, not yet. For now, I’ll protect my father’s memory. My stomach plummets. Is he still alive? I put a lid on the potential meltdown. I need to remain present. I clear my throat and make the walk down the aisle I swear is miles instead of feet.

“Are you going to let me off or is more smoke and mirrors required?” I ask Tony.

“Now don’t be that way. We’re just carrying out orders.”

I roll my eyes. “How many times have I heard that?”

“Look. We both know what happens when you don’t follow your father’s words to a t.” I try not to look at the scar that remains on his temple. I nod my head with grudging respect.

“I’ve been with you since you were a girl. You think I’d deliver you to a wolf waiting to devour you?”

“No,” I say quietly.

“Exactly.” He unlocks the door and pushes down the step. My eyes struggle to adjust to the contrast from light to dark. The outline of a large male makes my heart race. My vision sharpens, and the bottom drops out of my world. I sway.

“Easy.” Tony wraps an arm around my waist, keeping me upright.

My lower lip trembles. Can it really be him? After all this time?