When You're Choosing the Better of Bad Options...You Know You're in Trouble

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For a kidnapper from my kidnappers, at least he made a girl feel welcome. I mean wasn't going to drink the glass of champagne he handed me or eat from the fruit, cheese and meat spread on the table in the center, but it felt amazing. I watched the plates on the table with morbid curiosity, waiting on the sharp turn that spilled everything across the floor and sent my benefactor into a rage.

The plush velvet seats made the limo feel more like someone's bachelor pad than the back of a moving car. It was a stark contrast to Brad; this man had the air of someone who came from old money. The car wasn't an extension of his self-worth, but a tool that was his due.

I crossed my legs, wishing I had something more than this two-piece covering my body and sniffed the champagne. It smelled fine, but it's a bit difficult to be discerning when you're not comfortable. "You know who I am, but you haven't introduced yourself," I said.

He smiled, his perfect white teeth gleaming as he plucked a peeled grape from the tray. Once I'd made eye contact, he spoke. "Max."

"You have a last name, Max?"

"I do, yes." He popped the grape into his mouth, chewing as a grin spread across his face. "Please, have some. I'm sure you're hungry after your time in that holding cell."

Absolutely starving. I prayed that my stomach didn't rumble and betray my stubbornness.

"I'm fine, thank you," I said. "You said you could reconnect me with Ivan in an hour. How?"

"I know where he is," he said. His eyes widened. "That is to say..."

I narrowed my eyes, wondering what had him so spooked. "Are you scared of Ivan?"

"Terrified," he said, immediately slapping his hand over his mouth.

"Good," I said. I wasn't some sort of super spy like Virtue, but weirdness of his actions aside, his fear looked genuine. Enough that I was starting to feel comfortable in his presence. If he was that scared of my brother, the last thing he needed was to get on my bad side as well. I grabbed a piece of cheese, took a bite and savored the creaminess on my tongue. For once, I might have a sliver of control. I took a sip from my wine glass as well, just for good measure.

"Let's talk less about business and more about pleasure," Max said. He took a purple handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his brow. "How do you like it here so far?"

I folded my arms. "Most of my time here has been in cars or jail, so I haven't had the chance to form an opinion. Let's say I'm not impressed, present company excluded, of course."

"Oh, my dear, I know you must be having fun." He leaned forward as if we were sharing a deep secret. "Daring late night escapes, secret plane rendezvouses, all sounds rather charming."

"I don't suppose you'd like to trade places with me?"

He grinned. "No, I wouldn't trade places with you for all the tea in China. We all have our roles to play. And in this Emily, you're the star."

"You don't seem the type to take a backseat to anyone."

"I can be convinced. When there's money involved."

"And there's money to be made?"

"More than you know," he said, leaning back and crossing his legs. He sipped from his glass. "But I know where to draw the line. You see, greed is what usually gets you. Most people, they don't know how to stop when they're up. They overreach for that extra thousand, that extra million that they didn't need. That's the difference between twenty-five to life and generational wealth. Between being Al Capone and Joe Kennedy."

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"You'll see soon enough." He looked out the window. "Looks like we're here."

I narrowed my eyes. No way that car ride was the hour he'd promised. Not that I was complaining. I was getting tired of sitting and riding in cars.

It also took away the opportunity to see Max lose it as his meal plastered across the windows. No such luck. Somehow the driver made the whole trip without so much as a sharp stop.

The door opened to a beautiful estate, nestled in a well-manicured lawn. The limo had stopped in a semi-circle, just at the foot of the stairs. If Max's clothes and limo were any indication, this was one of his many houses throughout the world.

A group of maids, all dressed identically in a pink dress with a black apron, met us at the foot of the stairs. The one at the center held out a pile of cloth in front of me. It took a few moments to realize my prayers had been answered. It was a simple black dress, maybe long enough to reach my knees.

I shimmied into the dress, the cloth cooling my skin. I was a tad amazed at how my measurements were at the fingertips of everyone in this city, but I suppose that was just me finding something to complain about. Another maid offered me a pair of red heels, but I walked past her. The sandals would do just fine for whatever this was.

Max offered his hand and I took it, climbing up the stairs to the massive mansion. I had to say, between Brad's penthouse and Max's hacienda, I wasn't sure how I'd go back to normal after all this.

Assuming there was an end. It was starting to dawn on me that even when I found Ivan, I couldn't just go back to D.C.

It was both frightening and exhilarating.

"You said you could reconnect me with my brother in one hour," I said. "That car ride was maybe thirty minutes. Where are we going now?"

He grinned. "First up the stairs and then to the sitting room. I'm a man of my word. I will have your brother here shortly."

"This is a nice house," I said. "Beautiful courtyard, nice orange adobe walls. What is that creature spitting water in the fountain?"

"It's a salmon, my dear. Simple, yet effective. I've always liked the notion of struggling against one's fate."

I hoped Virtue heard it all through my tooth mic.

As the doors opened, my jaw dropped even further. The outside didn't do it justice. It was the kind of house that would be too classy for a show like Cribs, but one that Robin Leach would have visited back in the nineties. Crystal chandeliers hung in the center of the foyer and marble tile lined the floor, reflecting the light. They were polished so well that I could almost see my reflection in them.

Max led me to a soft white sofa and took a seat just across from me. He snapped his fingers and out came a new bottle of champagne on ice and a series of tiny cakes. The butler popped a cork and offered me a glass first before offering one to Max. I took it gladly. I was thirsty, my nerves were shot and the man had opened the bottle in front of me. If they drugged me here, I'd just give them a hand when I woke up for playing the long game well.

"Emily," Max said. "I hope you won't think too poorly of me for what's to come."

I drained the glass. Second-worst decision of the week? Ha! Sounded like in would be the worst. I'd be lying though, if I wasn't just a bit curious what was next. "You know that if something happens to me, Silver Tongue would hunt you to the ends of the earth." A little lame, but I'm sure it got the point across.

"She's right, you know," a voice said from behind me.

I froze in my seat. That voice was the reason I snuck away from my detail and had gone through all this death-defying crap. I knew it, but I didn't want to turn around. I didn't want to be wrong.

The tapping of shoes against the marble filled the air, growing ever closer to me. Max froze in place and swallowed. A hand touched my shoulder. I looked down.

"Em?"

I looked up to see his smiling face. The anchor beard was gone, but he hadn't changed the hair from the Virtue photo, slicked to the side, looking like a party bro who'd found the hair gel of legend.

I'd never been so happy to see it.

I jumped into his arms, squeezing him tighter than I'd ever squeezed anyone in my life.

"Ivan," I said. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

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