Page 70 of Miki

No wonder I always felt as if I was being watched. It hadn’t been paranoia after all.

What he had done felt like such an invasion of my privacy, and of course it was, but in the end I realised how lucky I’d been that he’d done all of that to keep me safe.

After all, in a way, it had helped save my life.

And of course, the sexy Russian was right. If I was to be in a relationship with him, then I’d better get used to the fact I’d need to take security precautions.

Even Miki had a bodyguard and I’d bet that Marko had a tracker on him too. So, if Miki could endure these sorts of security measures, then so would I. It was certainly better than the alternative. I’d just have to get used to it.

Right now, though, it seemed I was safe enough without all of that.

Miki had taken over the whole of the top floor of the hotel. There were only a couple of suites; we were in this one, and Marko, Vlad, and a couple of their guys I’d still to meet were in the other.

Marko moved out of this suite so Miki and I could be alone, which was sweet of him.

However, although I was on my own in this set of rooms, Miki had said Marko was next door if I needed him, so I wasn’t completely alone.

Knowing someone was nearby made me feel less terrified, and I felt quite relaxed in the hotel.

Just before Miki and Vlad had left, the clothes from the personal shopper had arrived. Watching them being wheeled into the room had filled me with excitement, and I couldn’t wait to try them on.

Hurrying into the bedroom, I grinned.

Wow! I shook my head in awe.

There were so many things.

Joy filled me and I bounced on my toes, practically vibrating with excitement as I looked at all the bags. I’d never had a personal shopper pick out anything for me, and certainly not a whole bloody wardrobe full of stuff.

That was another thing I’d need to get used to.

Miki really lived in a different world from me. I was a normal working-class girl, and he was born rich and privileged. He was from a world where personal shoppers and designer clothes were the norm. I was more of a Primark or Next kind of girl.

However, as I pulled one beautiful item after another out of their bags, I couldn’t help but think that I wouldn’t mind getting used to this at all.

Trying on the first outfit that took my fancy—a gorgeous little black dress and some matching heels—I preened in front of the mirror.

It looked great, and it fit me perfectly.

A beautiful blue silk shirt and navy pants were my next choice, and they were just as fine. Posing ridiculously in each outfit, I took some selfies just for fun.

Dresses, trousers, tops, shirts, boots, shoes, bags, underwear and even swimsuits littered the room a short while later, as I entertained myself with my very own fashion show.

It had been a long time since I’d bought myself clothes and I was thoroughly enjoying having my wardrobe replaced.

The reason for it, however, was not enjoyable.

That thought soured my mood. I wanted to kill that fucker Martin, and if I ever saw him again, I just might.

Of course, I hoped that I never would. Or at least not until his trial, when the bastard had been caught and I could look him in the eye and take satisfaction knowing that he was going to jail for what he had done.

The uniformed officers had asked if I had any idea why he would do such a thing, but I played dumb, saying I hadn’t a clue. All going well, they’d find out soon enough.

As I put away the outfits, I thought back over Miki’s plan. It really was a good one.

I’d been shocked to find out the extent of my colleagues’ corruption and that Mathieson was the head of the Thomas gang. Human trafficking sickened me and the thought of being able to end a gang involved in that was thrilling.

All going well, and Miki’s contact got a sting operation arranged in time, when Mathieson, Roy and the others were apprehended while taking part in trafficking girls illegally for the sex trade, everything else would come to light and finally I’d get justice for my dad.

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