Capturing Victory (Driven Hearts Book 3) Read online

  Silence greeted his demand. It took patience he didn’t have to keep quiet and not interrupt his people while they digitally knocked down the hacker’s attempts to cover his tracks. Ivan locked down the urge to pace his office and shout further demands. He was a man of action, but this was not his time to shine. This was the reason he spent copious amounts of money employing people all over the world. So he could have the things he needed… and wanted. And right now he wanted the hacker’s head on a platter. He needed to step aside and allow his people to track the hacker using the sophisticated resources he purchased for these jobs.

  After a long moment of silence, he could hear Katie scuffling with Roman and screaming through the phone connection, “Source, get out now!”

  This was quickly followed by one of his own people from the command center. “We have him pinned down. He’s in Portugal.”

  “Where in Portugal?” Ivan asked coolly.

  Several seconds passed and then the answer came through clearly. “Quarteira. A small coastal fishing hub.”

  “Keane?” Ivan demanded over the connection. “Who’s closest?”

  Keane replied immediately. “We have a man in Lisbon, he can be there within the hour.”

  “Not good enough, he’ll go to ground by then,” Ivan snapped, pacing his office. He could feel the tension rolling off his secretary. “What else?”

  Five more seconds passed then Keane said, “Know a guy in Cadiz, Spain. I’ve used his team for some jobs in that region. Can either chopper in or boat across the water, fifteen minutes if he goes now.” Keane hesitated and then added, “Mean fucker though. Can’t guarantee the package’ll get to you in one piece.”

  “Do it,” Ivan said. “And Keane?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “The package will arrive intact.”

  Few words were exchanged while Keane engaged the services of his mercenary contact in Spain. The man was indeed rough around the edges, but quick to leap to action when a generous contract was immediately laid out. Ivan did not negotiate. He offered. His offer was accepted, both parties moved forward with their contractual obligations. It was really too bad the hacker failed to understand.

  He closed his eyes and continued to practice patience, counting down fifteen minutes to the second as Salazar’s team took a military commissioned craft across the Gulf of Cadiz to Quarteira.

  “They’ve landed,” Keane’s voice came across the line. “They’re in the vehicle and movin’ toward the signal. ETA, two minutes.”

  Ivan allowed himself to feel the first stirrings of satisfaction since he began closing in on his prey. Soon the hacker would be within Ivan’s power, begging for mercy. He would quickly find out that Ivan had none.

  “Sir,” Keane’s voice came through the speaker, cool and professional. “We have the hacker, we have XSource.”

  Ivan allowed the corner of his lips to curl slightly in satisfaction. “Excellent.”

  “She was preparin’ to run.”

  She? A woman?

  He turned to his screen, the smile leaving his face. “Show me.”

  An incoming message popped up on Ivan’s screen. He tapped it, sitting down for a better view. He was stunned when her image filled the screen. He recognized her, of course. She was the lovely woman in the pink sari he’d attempted to converse with at the Athens ball two weeks before. Even in the overly bright light cast on her squinting features by the camera phone, he could tell it was her. Thick, dark brown hair swirled around her shoulders, forcibly hunched forward from the man standing behind her, holding her arms behind her back.

  Suddenly a bag was shoved over her head, blocking her from view. He watched with disinterest as she fought her captors, screaming and kicking until someone slapped her in the side of the head so hard she was knocked off her feet. When she was righted, it was clear the fight had drained out of her. She leaned limply against one of the men her small hand clutching his forearm like a lifeline.

  Ivan felt a tweak of annoyance at the way these men were handling his merchandise. The hacker belonged to him. No one else had earned the opportunity to punish her. He wanted to tear the bag from her head and shoot every man in that room for touching her. But she was still several thousand kilometres away from him. There was little he could do, but calmly, coolly wait for her arrival.

  Salazar spoke to his men in rapid Spanish. “Load her up. Take as much of the equipment as you can. Don’t damage anything.”

  Once the woman was taken from her shadowy basement home and out of view, Ivan placed his fists on the desk and leaned, making absolutely sure his next instructions were clear. “Keane.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “No one touches that woman again. Understood?”

  “Understood, sir.”

  Ivan ended the call, turned to his computer and ended the video feed. He trusted that Keane would make sure his instructions were followed. He glanced at his secretary. She was looking at him, her expression empty and serene, exactly as she knew it should be. She was to have no emotion while in his presence. She lifted her tablet and waited on his next instructions.

  He turned his back on her, squared his shoulders and emptied his mind for a moment, attempting to centre himself; release some of the emotion boiling up. “I need you to make some changes for our guest. Circumstances have become different. She’ll be staying for a longer period of time than I was anticipating. Make sure a cell is prepared for her right away. It is to be comfortable, but there will be absolutely no technology in or around her room. That includes light switches, plug-ins, anything she can get her hands on. It all needs to go.”

  “Yes, sir,” Anna said, her fingers flying over the tablet as she gave his people real time instructions. They would have a few hours to prepare the room to his specifications.

  “I’ll be leaving for home sooner than expected. I’ll have to finish the Ukrainian deal, so Thursday I’ll leave. Arrange it.” Though he wasn’t facing her he could still feel her hesitation. “What is it?” he asked coldly.

  “Wh-what about Mr. Kadir? You were supposed to meet with him on Friday about the…”

  Ivan turned to his secretary of six months and stared at her, his grey eyes expressing his distaste for her lack of foresight. She swallowed, her face slightly pale. She nodded.

  “Of course, sir. I will cancel your meeting and reschedule,” she said in a slightly higher voice.

  He jerked his chin in a nod. “If he’s not willing to reschedule, let Keane know. He can take care of the situation.” They both knew how Keane would take care of the client. Anna made a note, keeping her eyes averted. “That’s all for now. You may leave.”

  She uncrossed her legs and stood. Though no part of her body language conveyed relief at his dismissal, he could feel the emotion coming off her in waves, see it in every line of her sleek, professional body as she moved toward the door. She was a beautiful woman, had even tried to flirt with her new boss upon meeting him, a few weeks into the job. Instead of harshly rebuffing and firing her, as he’d been tempted to do, he’d instead given her time to get to know him. Given her time to look beyond what he knew was a classically handsome face to the monster within.

  He knew who he was. He’d made deliberately, terribly immoral decisions simply to keep business flowing smoothly. Each step forward he’d taken into the darkness throughout his life had been a strategic decision. He’d never questioned the path he was taking, never thought twice about the stain on his soul. Nothing mattered to him except the power, the gain and the ability to crush anything that might be able to crush him first.

  Thus, his pretty little secretary learned quickly not to flirt with her new boss. Not in an office where more than one person had disappeared, where being fired could too easily take on a permanent meaning. Instead, she took extra pains to blend in, do her job seamlessly and with the utmost respect. So far Ivan was mostly satisfied with her performance.

  He sat down at his desk, pulled the computer monitor closer to him and
expanded the frozen picture of his hacker until it filled the screen. The terror and anger in her dark eyes filled his chest, his heart and his lungs with… something. Some kind of feeling. He sat watching her for several moments, tracing her features, bare of make-up and artifice. He touched the screen, outlining her cheeks and lips with a fingertip before tapping her right between the eyes. He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, breathing in and out, attempting to rid himself of the feelings, to centre himself once more.

  He sat up abruptly, his eyes flying open. He knew what they were, the feelings he was associating with the woman, the hacker. For the first time in a long time, rather than feeling apathy, he felt anticipation, excitement… and desire.

  Chapter Three

  “Lovely.”

  The deep voice echoed through the darkness, penetrating the warmth of what she’d come to think of as her dungeon. She turned, heart beating erratically, knowing it was finally time for her to meet her captor face-to-face.

  It had been two days since she’d been taken. The men who had stormed into her tiny, underground place in Portugal and put a bag over her head had hustled her into a car, sped her through the rainy streets and then onto a private aircraft. When she tried to fight and wrestle the bag off her head, a man had wrenched her arms back and ruthlessly zip-tied them. When she’d screamed curses and begged her captors to let her go, the same man had pressed a gun against the side of her head and told her to stop speaking or die. She had chosen silence.

  Though she had no idea where she was, she knew who had taken her and why. Katie Pullman’s last call had held a chilling warning. Her voice had screamed out for Source to run. There was only one man connected to Katie with the resources to hunt someone as digitally invisible as XSource. Source had done her best to heed the blond cat burglar’s warning, erasing sensitive files and throwing necessities into a bag at hyper speed.

  She hadn’t thought there was any chance Ivan’s people could be so close. He must have a truly stunning amount of resources all over the world to be able to grab her in such a small and insignificant place. There was a reason she’d chosen the small seaside town in Portugal to hang out. It wasn’t for the seafood. The place was gloomy as fuck.

  She thought when she arrived at wherever she was that Ivan would confront her and demand again that she work for him. At least that’s what she hoped the plan was. Knowing what a cold-blooded bastard Ivan Vogel was, he might have just brought her here to torture and kill her for turning down his incredibly kind offer of employment. Instead, she’d been left alone for two days, imprisoned in some kind of old-fashioned dungeon with stone walls and barred windows while she awaited his arrival. Granted it was a comfortable dungeon, warm with a large cozy bed, reading materials and plenty of food. But still…

  Now it would seem her captor had arrived. And he was in the mood to inspect his newest acquisition.

  “You are a pleasant surprise,” he drawled in flawless English, though she still detected an accent. He stepped through the shadows toward her. “I was led to believe you were a man.”

  He stopped so close to her she could feel the heat from his body. She’d stood up to greet him, not wanting such a predatory man to have any kind of physical advantage. Not that it mattered, he was still almost a foot taller than her. She shuddered as his grey eyes roved hungrily over her despite the shadows, taking in every part of her. Instinct screamed at her to back away, but pride held her still.

  “Of course, had you been a man, you would be dead,” he said easily, as if he’d been informing her of the time.

  She bit her lip to stifle the whimper that threatened to break free. “And why is that?” she asked, attempting to infuse strength into her husky voice. She didn’t speak often, preferring her own company.

  His lip lifted in a cold smirk. His face looked like it was sculpted from granite, hard and masculine, with barely any emotion except what he allowed. His body was built from the same rock as his face, all sharp planes and hard muscles with long, masculine limbs. She’d thought he was a handsome man when she saw him at the Athens ball. Now?… now that he held her fragile life in his ruthless hands, she wasn’t convinced.

  “You refused to work for me,” he said simply, his eyes never leaving her face.

  “And no one has ever refused you before?” she asked sharply. “I somehow doubt that.”

  His brow lifted in surprise, as though reminding her of her precarious position. A small shudder rippled down her back. She needed to remember who she was dealing with and somehow rein in her impulsive tongue. There was a reason she was a hacker. She preferred not to develop the social skills necessary in dealing with the masses. She didn’t like interacting with people or giving them the required responses to their inane conversation.

  “No one refuses me for long, little Miss Source,” he drawled her nickname out as though teasing her with it. “And you withheld services from me repeatedly. Refusing my advances, despite my ever more lucrative offers.”

  He stepped closer to her as he spoke, purposefully using provocative language. He lifted a finger and ran it over her cheek, testing the softness of her skin. Her eyes flared wide and the breath strangled in her throat. She stumbled back a step, but her legs hit the edge of the bed. He stepped closer, trapping her against the high bed she’d been sleeping on for the last two days.

  “P-please,” she whispered, terrified of the big man. She’d heard so many horrific stories of the international arms dealer over the years. He worked in and out of the shadows. The one story she should have listened to when he first started pursuing her a year ago was that Ivan always got what he wanted. “I’m sorry.”

  He looked down at her, lifting his hand again and touching it to her cheek before drifting it down her throat and then her arm. He lifted her hand and brought it to his face, caressing the back with his lips. Her skin was only a few shades darker than his. Her hand looked so small and delicate in his much larger hand. His tongue darted out to touch the back of her fingers.

  “You are sorry you didn’t come to work for me?” he asked against her hand, pressing the soft skin against his hard jaw and then rubbing his rough cheek against her. “A little late for apologies, don’t you think?” His sardonic gaze flickered around her prison before settling back on her face.

  She could barely breathe, let alone keep her thoughts straight when he touched her like that, yet she knew she had to force her brain to work. This man was brutal, intelligent and deadly. She was way out of her depth and almost completely alone in the world. There was no one who would miss her if she disappeared forever. Except, perhaps, for her friend Katie, now in the clutches of the Mexican cartel. She needed to use her head and get out of this with her principles intact.

  She raised her chin and said in as clear a voice as she could manage, “No. I don’t work for organizations, only for myself. What I’m sorry about is that you’re the kind of guy who won’t take no for an answer.”

  His fingers tightened painfully around hers. She tried to jerk her hand away, but he refused to let her go. His eyes blazed down into hers for a moment and she feared he would just give into the fury and get rid of her. She knew Ivan wasn’t used to denial of any kind. He could buy, bully and steal anything he wanted. He was one of the most powerful men in the world.

  Well, he couldn’t have her.

  He reached for her so quickly, she thought a blow was coming and cried out. Instead, he sank his hand into her hair and jerked her head back until her face tipped up toward his. She gritted her teeth against the pain. His eyes flashed in cruel approval. Her chest lifted and dropped as she breathed rapidly, standing stiffly against him.

  “What’s your name?” he demanded, his cold, dark eyes searching her face as though he could pull the answer from her.

  She wouldn’t give him anything. She would lie to him, give him one of her aliases. She hadn’t said her real name in years, preferring to bury herself under layers of false identities. When the last of her family had
died, so had her real identity along with any sense of belonging. She opened her mouth to give him one of her most used false identities, Pari, but she must have hesitated too long. Or maybe he saw the flash of dishonesty in her eyes.

  Suddenly, he seized her by the throat, lifted her off the floor and slammed her down on the bed. The fluffy quilts softened the blow to her back. He came down heavy on top of her, straddling her flailing limbs. She would have screamed, except he was choking the breath from her body. His actions were so swift and precise she didn’t stand a chance. He had her arms and legs completely pinned and her throat in a tight grip that she knew would leave bruises later.

  Tears rushed to her eyes as she stared up at her cruel captor. He didn’t even look angry that she had been about to lie to him, just slightly irritated, as though he expected it and was put out at having to mete out discipline.

  “You don’t want to lie to me,” he said, his deep voice glacial.

  A tear escaped from her eye and ran into her hairline. She nodded. She could feel his erection pressing into her belly where he was straddling her. He wasn’t completely unaffected by their little struggle, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. Neither his actions nor his expression indicated he was about to ravish her. Or maybe that was wishful thinking?

  He eased his grip on her throat and gave her an expectant look.

  She licked her lips and whispered the name she hadn’t spoken in six years, “Jaya.”

  Genuine satisfaction suffused his features, giving his angular features a softer cast. “Victory,” he said.

  He didn’t mean that he was victorious over her. Her name meant victory in Hindi. And somehow he knew that. Though she hated him with every fibre of her being, a small part of her couldn’t help but be impressed.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  His eyes cut to hers. “You think you will be victorious, little hacker?”

  She glared up at him, hating the way he played with her. She was ill-equipped to deal with a man like him. He was sophisticated, a world traveller. An international criminal and an arms dealer. She might be international in her own way, but she lived in basements and cellars in small towns, in places no one ever heard of, so she could stay off the grid, hiding from people like this psychotic villain.