“I’ve got the extra towels you requested, and I will redo the bathroom. Are you there?”
Zoe’s heart wanted to leap out of her throat. Bile rose as she heard steps inside the room. They seemed to remain the farthest away from the closet, but there was a risk someone could come in any way. Time was running out. Silently moving a suitcase, she put the box on it and analyzed the lock. Pressing the side button, six blue squares blinked to life and, after a while, dimmed off, emitting a softer glow, apparently in stand-by mode.
Clicking on the squares, various symbols appeared. Six different symbols in each square to choose from. Six squares time six different symbols in each, the combinations were high. She needed a clue, something that could give her an indication, a hint. Each symbol was slightly bigger than the previous one, an indication of their order.
The housemaid was singing in the background, which at least gave Zoe an indication of where she was. After checking each symbol once more, she realized that two symbols were repeated, one in squares two and six. If it was a word, it meant that it was the same letter used both times in it. It was obvious the coder wouldn’t have put two identical ones otherwise. But what was the word?
Closing her eyes, she tried to remember everything that had been said about Anton Vasiliev or found in his file that Ellen had provided. So many details, so many names. His corporations, the names of his associates, his connections, his friends, his enemies, his family. Her brain was acting as a computer, placing the names in front of those six squares and none of them worked. Of all the options, the only name with two letters in similar positions was the name of his wife Maria. But she only had five letters, not six. Damn it!
Impossible to get the thread, the one in her mind that would unlock the code, and time was slipping through her fingers. She needed to get out fast, with the key. Zoe ignored her shaking hands, and instead tried to think like Anton Vasiliev. He was a Russian and had probably thought the code in his native language with its own unique alphabet. In front of her eyes, she redid the same exercise of placing every name in front of the squares, but this time using the Cyrillic alphabet. Again, it was a failure. Not abandoning hope, she tried in her mind to find a solution.
The maid made a sound inside the room, and Zoe froze, her eyes still on the squares, but her ears perked up. It was more and more difficult to get her mind to work. If it wasn’t western spelling, nor Cyrillic, it was a random word. In that case, she was screwed, and Lucas was dead.
Defeated, she looked around the closet, and saw so many suits, it was dizzying. Did Archer own that many? From her point of view, she saw all those famous designers. Anton Vasiliev had the money to indulge in expensive tastes. In that, it reminded her of Udi Al-Aamri, who wore designer suits, more in sync with the western world than Ahmad.
Western world. The expression ticked something inside her as her eyes reverted to the soft blue squares. The only name she could find, close to fitting the number of square and repeating symbols was the name of his wife. Maria. But that was one way of spelling it. The women in Russia translated it not the Hispanic way, but with a y. Mariya. Six letters. It was like a light was turned on in her brain. Less than five seconds later after testing the symbols, the familiar click of the lock confirmed she had entered the right code. Mariya. A victory cry almost escaped her lips.
Not wasting a second, she opened the box and saw watches, papers and the Flash drive. She put it in her pocket and locked the box again before sliding it in the suitcase, replacing everything as she had found them. On her knees, Zoe peeked outside, to see the door still open, and a cleaning cart close by. Unsure, where the maid was, she got to her feet and padded to the door. The woman was leaning into her cart, searching for something, and the security guard was nowhere to be seen. As she stepped out of the room, Zoe’s heart thumped when the maid looked at her, gaping in surprise. If she acted uncomfortable or scared, it would be the end of it. Zoe smiled at the maid and winked, straightening her blouse and vest. Immediately, the woman smiled and winked back. It seemed that it wasn’t unusual for Anton Vasiliev to have strange women in his room after all. He wasn’t that afraid of his wife, damn liar.
Inside the elevator, it took several attempts for her to push the button to the right floor, and when the right light finally came on, she leaned back and grabbed the rail as if it was a lifeline. Reaching her floor, one quick look at the polished metal panel told her that she still looked professional, although a little flushed.
As if nothing had happened, she walked out and went straight to the meeting room. Lance was still there, glaring at her.
“Where have you been?”
“Female problems. Satisfied?”
And again, her tactic worked, as it seemed to be reason enough to leave her alone without asking embarrassing questions. Going back inside, she saw Archer was sitting at the table with Vasiliev. When he saw her coming back in, he stood, took two quick strides and he was on her, voice low and menacing.
“Where were you?”
Zoe knew that if she acted out of character, looked scared or anxious, he would be unstoppable. “I needed air. Finch was acting like an ass and I wanted to slap him, which wouldn’t have helped your negotiation with Vasiliev at all.”
For a moment, Zoe feared she hadn’t been convincing enough. He leaned forward, so close she could feel his body heat. “Don’t put yourself in danger, do you hear me? Steer clear of Finch. You’re mine.”
And before she could comprehend the words, he kissed her.
Zoe seriously thought that one of Archer’s kisses was a lethal weapon. It was like a reset in her body, where her fear and her anxiety were consumed by his contact, disappearing completely. And now, there wasn’t any possibility to ask where Finch had gone without raising suspicions. To be honest, in that instant, with the man possessing her lips, his hands all over her, plastered against his hard body, she didn’t care. Nothing mattered, because now she was on fire, as possessed and as powerful as he was. That was the magic of Archer Blackwood.
When he let her go, the look he gave her was clear.Don’t go out of my sight again. She wasn’t about to contradict him this time. He led her to the living room area, and one look at Vasiliev made her blush like a tomato. Gone was discretion it seemed.
The men sat again, and the talks continued, but Zoe couldn’t focus on it. She was way too aware of what was in her bag and who it belonged to. Probably one of the reasons why it was difficult to look at Vasiliev without feeling shame. But again, it couldn’t be helped. If a simple key could save her baby brother, she would steal all of them in the world.
Automatically, her hand slipped into her bag beside her and touched the cool metal, praying for strength, when something buzzed against her wrist. Closing her eyes in dread, Zoe picked up her phone.
“You never disappoint, Miss Somersby. I dare say that I feel prouder about your prowess than any of my bastard children. Now, at 11 p.m. tonight, go deliver the Flash drive to the address I will send you. Only give it to a man named Hellhound.”
Another text appeared with the address.
Hellhound was an apt name as she was dealing with the devil himself.
