Because whatever attack he made would miss the mark.
2
Crewe
The plane was already in the air before I began my conversation with Joseph. After they landed at the airport, they took my private helicopter and flew to the Shetland Islands, the northern tip of Scotland where I kept my residence. Subarctic, it was cold year round—but absolutely beautiful. I’d lived in many places during my lifetime, but the remote archipelago had a quaint quality I couldn’t find anywhere else.
With a small population, Scandinavian influences were prevalent among the islands. Life moved at a slower pace, concentrating on old Scottish ways of life. Most inhabitants were Shetland breeders, the small horses that weren’t much bigger than a pony. The grass was always green, and the ocean brought fresh air across the land on a daily basis. Full of wildlife, it was far removed from the bustling city and the rest of the United Kingdom.
My home had been built hundreds of years ago. I had to refurbish the interior, adding hardwood floors, central heating, and all the renovations that accommodated my eccentric taste. However, it still took on the appearance of a castle in the Scottish Highlands. It felt like a castle rather than a home, sometimes.
I sat in the living room, drinking my scotch and looking over a report from my distilleries where they created whiskey, making sure the blending was just right and still true to the flavor my ancestors created in the fifteenth century.
Ariel walked into the room in jeans with heels and a thick black sweater. Her brown hair was pulled back into an elegant updo. While she was soft on the eyes, she was hard on the inside. She was ruthless, authoritative, and cold—the best business partner I could ask for. “The helicopter is landing, Crewe.”
I set my work on the coffee table, abandoning the smooth scotch that flowed down my throat with just the right amount of heat. “Thank you, Ariel.” I buttoned the front of my suit then adjusted my watch. “We should give our new guest a proper greeting, shall we?” The corner of my mouth rose in a smile, knowing Joseph would pay for his recklessness until the day he died.
We left through the backdoor and crossed the short hawkweed and chickweed grass as we approached the helicopter that was slowly descending on the flat field. The property was right at the coastline and very secluded. I was never concerned neighbors would discover my criminal activities due to their proximity. The only way back to the Scottish mainland was by boat or helicopter. The help was in charge of gathering supplies we needed on a daily basis.
Ariel walked beside me as we approached the chopper. It landed on the grass with grace before the engine was shut off. The propeller still spun as the engine cooled down. We stood side by side as we waited for our guest.
Ariel’s loose strands flew back in the wind from the propellers, and slowly, they fluttered until her hair was perfect once more. She placed her hands in her pockets, looking just as terrifying as me.
Dunbar came from the rear and joined us, his arm crossed over his muscular chest.
Ethan emerged from the helicopter carrying a woman in his arms. She was unconscious, her head dangling over the edge of his arm. Her long brown hair blew in the wind. She wore dark jeans and a simple top, obviously used to the humid weather of New York City in the summertime.
She was in for a surprise.
Ethan carried her toward me, the rest of the team in tow. In a black hoodie and dark jeans, he carried London effortlessly. “She was a bit ornery. Had to put her under.” He shifted her in his arms before he handed her off to Dunbar.
I took a peek at her, seeing the fair skin of her flawless cheeks. She had a small nose, full lips, and eyelashes that would make her eyes stand out if they were open. Petite in size, she didn’t seem like she could put up much of a fight. “She reminds me of a puppy—so innocent.”
Ethan chuckled. “This woman is not innocent. She almost got a hold of my gun. There’s no doubt in my mind she would have pulled the trigger.”
Now my interest was truly piqued. “Maybe she has more in common with Joseph than we realized.” I nodded back toward the house. “Let’s go.”
We walked back inside and went downstairs to the basement. It was still in the formation of a prison, with cement flooring and walls. There was a small cot in the corner, a toilet and a sink, but nothing else. There weren’t any windows because the basement extended deep into the ground. Only a few lights were on at a time, keeping my prisoner in near darkness.