Man Eater: A romantic suspense by January James

Author:January James [James, January]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: January James
Published: 2021-04-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Quinn

Present day.

I stared down at the large brown envelope on my desk, marked Strictly Confidential. I picked up the letter opener and sliced through the edge, letting the contents slip out onto my desk.

Time stood still as my brain tried to make sense of what my eyes were seeing. I robotically reached out and picked up one of the photographs. It was hard to see beyond the blood – a disturbing combination of dark, dried clumps and fresh strokes of bright red. The hair was short and matted, the skin bruised black. The body was shirtless, the torso naked except for deep gashes crisscrossing up the length of the chest. A tattoo had been inked on the upper left arm and I could just about make out the sketch of a sword – the emblem of the Solgrave Soldiers. I was barely breathing.

I picked up another photograph, a closer shot of the face. It was unmistakeable. The right eye, while split and oozing fluid, was open and staring at the person behind the camera. The lips were dry and crusty, the nostrils condensed a dark red. It was Robson. My worst fear had been realised. My undercover investigator had been rumbled, and this was his punishment. If he was still alive, he was looking perilously close to death. I pushed the other photographs to one side and picked up the single sheet of paper.

How much is Robson worth to you, Mr Sullivan? Hand over £10 million or this man will get more than a few cuts and bruises.

I sank into my chair. Robson was still alive – at least that was something to be thankful for. But how the fuck was I supposed to get my hands on ten million? Sure, I had billions, but it was all tied up in assets. I would need to sell a magazine, but very few people were in the market for print titles these days. Or a television franchise, but they were all so successful it would raise too many eyebrows. I had property, houses I could sell, but that would take time. The yacht, I thought quickly. It was just sitting there in Monaco harbour, manned by two people who, in my opinion had the cushiest jobs in the world, just sitting on a luxurious yacht that went nowhere and getting paid a decent living for it. People bought and sold yachts like toys, but would it fetch ten million? I doubted it, but it would be a start. Fuck. I pressed the intercom.

“Mary, get Abel, Rinka and Gray up here.”

“Rinka and Gray are out at lunch. I’ll get Abel now and track the others down.”

I was pacing the room when Abel arrived. His usually bright, optimistic demeanour plummeted when he took in my face.

“What’s going on?” He asked, cautiously.

I pointed to the photographs on my desk. Abel walked over to them and slowly sifted through, his normally dark skin paling with every second that passed.

“He’s alive,” Abel said, finally.

“Yes, but for how long? I need to find the money.

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