“Well, you know that’s a lie, young man. You’re always the one my girls fawn over. It’s that baby face of yours. But, in all seriousness, after no less than ten attempts to get Alek to meet with me, I made the appointment with you.”
Madame Pierce’s sudden change of subject caught me off guard, and I frowned. “What is it you need to speak to Alek about?” I uncrossed my legs and leaned forward, noting the shift in her demeanor.
“That girl, the one he brought to the event. Kinsley, I believe is her name. How does Aleksandr know her?” Her expression changed, and my apprehension grew.
“Interestingly enough, we were hired by someone who mistook her for his old dance partner.” My mind raced as I tried to come up with reasons why this conversation was even happening. “Why are you asking?” I tensed; my heart thudded in my chest. Damn Aleksandr for being so fucked up over this shit with Kinsley.
“I’ve seen her before, and I didn’t think I would ever again,” she said, her gaze intense.
My hands shook as I dug out the younger image of Pavel and Mischa, handing it to her. I watched her face closely as she studied the photo, taking several minutes to answer.
“That girl was supposed to be one of mine,” she said gravely before handing the photo back to me.
My confusion grew as I rapid-fired questions in her direction. “Come again? When, how, and why didn’t she become one?”
“I was contacted in early 2014 regarding a potential placement for her,” she explained. “Normally, placements are made quickly. But in the case of that girl, we were asked to hold her spot for six months while she recovered.”
I furrowed my brow. “You’re sure it was this girl? And you said 2014? And recovered from what?”
“Yes, late 2014. I’m positive it was the same girl,” she confirmed. “At the last minute, plans changed, and she didn’t end up staying. I have no idea what she was recovering from. We often don’t get information until the last minute.”
“Who pulled her placement?” I tried to logistically put the pieces together. The adrenaline was pumping. This could give us something to go off of. I got out Pavel’s file and dug around. Pulling the photo of Owen Taylor out, I handed it to her.
Madame Pierce hesitated before answering. “This man was the one who organized the placement,” she finally said, looking at me with a level of concern I hadn’t ever seen before. “We require photo identification for drop-offs and an extensive background check,” she added.
“Tell me everything,” I urged, my eyes locked on hers.
“You know I can’t,” she replied, her voice filled with reluctance. “Anonymity is the very foundation I’ve built upon. My girls thrive and flourish because they depend on me to respect their pasts. When everyone else has betrayed or hurt them, they deserve to have aspects of their lives protected. Girls come to me to start again.”
My chair squeaked as I leaned back, my frustration growing tenfold. “The girl you saw my brother dancing with that night. She’s potentially related to this man.” I handed her the photo of Mikhail Romanov.
She took the photo. “I see,” she said slowly, her voice filled with understanding. “However, it changes nothing for me.” When she leveled me with eyes of steel, I realized I’d hit a wall once more.
“Is there anything you can tell me about the cancellation? Like the name of the agency or of the man who was placing her. Surely that information wouldn’t be going against your ethics,” I asked in desperation.
She sighed, and I frowned, thinking she was done. My heart sank, but then she spoke. “The only information I feel comfortable giving is the agency’s name that was placing her. It was called Dresden.”
I quickly got a pad of paper and wrote it down. She crossed her legs and looked at me, surprising me with another bit of information.
“I wasn’t there the day she arrived,” Madam Pierce said, her voice low and hesitant. “I had another student who had a medical emergency, but from what Dr. Reynolds said, it was not an easy drop-off.”
As my interest piqued, I leaned forward again. “Meaning?” I asked, almost afraid to prompt her for fear she’d stop speaking.
She took a deep breath before continuing. “The child was said to have been begging the man not to leave her, promising to be good. She swore she’d do anything to stay with him.”
My heart sank as I listened to her words. I tried to imagine the young girl in the photo begging not to be left, and my gut twisted further. The image morphed into Kinsley and the look she’d given Alek on game night when she asked him why he didn’t want to spank or touch her.
Madame Pierce shook her head, a sad expression on her face. “From what I was told, the man sat in his car for twenty minutes, sobbing, before he marched back up my steps and took her with him.” Pausing one last time, she shook her head and asked me point blank, “How attached is Alexandr to this young lady?”
“Very, unfortunately.” My voice was heavy with worry about Alek in general.
“Sometimes it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie.” The warning was clear, and I wished she’d tell me more, but she began gathering her bag and moved to stand.
“I wish we could. I really wish we could,” I said, confused as fuck.
Chapter 46
Aleksandr
