Page 139 of Redemption

But the man’s expensive casual clothes hung over the right size frame as he tracked her through glasses she knew he didn’t need. The man sipped from a cup of coffee, sadistic hunger burning in his eyes.

Her stomach turned, and sweat dampened her armpits and underneath her breasts as bile churned viciously in her stomach.

The man stopped staring and went back to a conversation with the other person at his table as Victoria watched him drink coffee. They laughed, and she wanted to scream. His head tilted back as he listened, and she wanted to throw her champagne flute.

No question. That was Ivan. “He’s at a bar table next to the column near the oversized plant. Khaki pants light blue polo shirt. Drinking a cup of coffee. Wearing glasses.” Victoria had never been more certain of anything in her life as she stared at someone who looked nothing like Ivan.

“Victoria,” Jared’s voice was low and straightforward. “You understand that I’m not questioning you; I’m asking for a double check of your observation. Standard operating procedure.”

Parker had likely hacked the hotel security system, and Jared and Parker were probably staring at the man she had pinpointed as Ivan Mikhailov, Russian government official, billionaire, trafficker of women and children, murderer, torturer, and her rapist many times over.

She closed her eyes and remembered every horrid, vivid detail. His hands, his wrists, the way they came down over her throat or how they drew back before he backhanded her. She recalled in intense detail the curl of his lips and the flare of his nostrils when she whimpered as he walked into the room. No amount of disguise and makeup could change that.

“Those are the fingers that wrapped around my throat. And that is the wrist I tore at with both hands, trying to break his chokehold. That head tilt, the way he gestures, the hungry, thirsty, enjoyable way he is taking his coffee and Danish is the same way he took me. That’s him. I understand your standard operating procedures, and I’m not worried that you’re second-guessing me.”

Victoria drained her orange juice, and as, planned she stood up, taking a napkin and covertly wiping away her fingerprints. It didn’t matter as a waiter immediately grabbed the glass from her and added it to a tray of many others.

Without a drink in hand, Victoria went and found a better seat and faced Ivan. Challenging her with a sadistic stare, he smiled, liked that she didn’t know. Oh, she knew. It was him, that narcissistic son of a bitch, who would never dream of what was coming.

“Target has been confirmed.” Jared said magical words in her head.

Like with Mayhem, she was the tracker and hunter, but not the judge, jury, or executioner. All had been decided and was out of her control, but participating with Delta and Titan, much like with Mayhem, worked for her.

“I have the target in sight,” Locke reported.

“You are approved. Take the target at will.”

Victoria wondered if Locke had promised Cassidy that he would seek vengeance. How long would Victoria have to wait? How long ago had Locke made this promise to Cassidy? What—

Ivan buckled, arching back and going limp in his chair.

She waited for shock to surprise her as people reacted. Victoria never heard the shot fired from wherever Locke was with his silencer. She knew that even a silencer gave off a noise, but the hotel was boisterous and had muffled the sound.

If Titan needed any further confirmation that the man was Ivan, they had it when his companion reacted like a Russian bodyguard and not a tourist, jumping to his feet and drawing a concealed weapon. That, more than anything, caused the pandemonium that ran through the crowd like a tidal wave.

People ducked, others ran as Locke reported, “Target’s eliminated.”

Victoria sat, savoring justice for a moment longer than she had planned then stood and swept herself into the chaos and fled into the street.

She made her way down to the bay again, letting her gaze drift to the barges that floated in the distance.

“Hey,” Ryder called as she looked over her shoulder to see him jogging down the brick pathway.

“Perfect timing.” She moved to her man.

His sweat-drenched hair spiked as he ran his hand through it, and his T-shirt clung to his chest. Everything about him physically was perfect, but it was the way he saved her that made her heart swell. It wasn’t just a white-knight rescue, it was also how he let her fly then let her realize that she could save herself. That was why she fell so deeply, madly in love with him.

Victoria moved against his chest, wrapping her arms around his damp neck and hugging him close. “Hey.”

Ryder gave her a quick, salty kiss and pulled back to hold her hand. “Something’s going on back there. Lots of police and lights showing up.”

She hummed noncommittally, as they walked along the Inner Harbor.

He slowed to a stop. “You’re not even curious?”

Victoria smiled. It wasn’t a happy one but rather more filled with contentment and certainty about the future. “No, not interested in what happened back there. Nothing there is my concern anymore.”

His eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head to the side, pinching her fingers into her ear and pulling out the tiny earpiece. Victoria took his hand and pressed it into his palm, curling his fingers around it. With both of her hands around his, Ryder understood. Ivan was dead, and she was done with that chapter of hindsight, second guesses, and regrets.

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