Page 27 of Scarred Ruin

As she chewed on her bottom lip, she darted her eyes from mine to the sketches before finally deciding to walk closer.

Meanwhile, I walked away, allowing her the time and space needed to see that I wasn’t trying to fool her about my interest in the project.

Not only had I hand-drawn crude sketches, I’d also provided detailed notes on what I hoped the project would entail from residences provided for free for the parents or caregivers, to reasonably priced and subsidized restaurants, a fitness center, and other recreational facilities with both adults and children in mind.

I was rewarded for my diligence by Isabel taking her time to study every aspect.

When she was finished, I knew instantly by her change in body language. No longer was she tense. While not relaxed, there was a substantive understanding about my interest.

She turned to face me, remaining quiet.

“As you can see, I’ve put some thought into what I consider a mission. I’m no artist, but I think you understand and perhaps now have a better idea why your carefully crafted architectural drawings provided me with confirmation you are indeed the right architect.”

“They are… well thought out and very similar to my ideas.”

“Yes, they are.” I walked closer, crowding her space more than I’d done before. “You were right in that I’m a very dangerous man who has been involved in aspects of a business you couldn’t understand. However, I am a father first. A father fearful of a relapse of his daughter’s condition.”

The news hit her hard. “She has cancer.”

“Yes, she does. Infantile Fibrosarcoma. And yes, Isabel, I am completely aware that your sister suffered and ultimately died from this form of cancer. I do my homework.”

She appeared as if I’d struck her, angry yet saddened by the news about Mina. Her body was trembling, but her expression became more determined as she slowly turned her head once again to the sketches. “You invaded my privacy.”

“I do what I must to protect my daughter at all costs. That’s something you should keep in mind, Isabel. I’m a fair, even generous man, but anyone who dares try and hurt my daughter for any reason will soon learn why I’m also considered a brutal, unforgiving man.”

CHAPTER 6

Maxsim

There were reasons to remain cautious, some personal and others revolving around business.

In the two days since my lunch with Isabel, I’d presented her details of the kidnapping attempt to my captain, who’d quietly launched a hunt for the bald man. Of course there was always a chance her information had been inaccurate, but with the way she’d presented the story, there was no reason to doubt her recollection.

For whatever reason, after spending time with her, I felt even more of an intense need to find a connection to the people who’d rocked my life. Not just because of my need to protect my daughter and provide a sense of justice for her.

It was also for Isabel and for what she’d been through.

Which was why when Sergei had mentioned one of the captains had found something tangible, I’d hungered for vindication to the point of tasting blood.

Of the many things I’d learned at a tender age, one of them had been that most people were sheep searching for a messiah to follow without question. There was a reason for the term ‘lambs to the slaughter.’ They didn’t mind sacrificing themselves to the master race of wolves.

Wolves were truly superior creatures capable of doing terrible things for very personal reasons. I was no exception. Plus, I enjoyed the hunt more than most. But I also enjoyed the kill, the tangible feeling that rocked through me every time an enemy or traitor was felled.

Those more capable than mindless sheep held value. Informants, Snitches. Even lone gunmen. They were the true foot soldiers in an invisible war.

Anything more complicated was left to men of power and intelligence.

But as far as digging in the dirt, I’d use foot soldiers any day. They had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

With an added incentive of ten thousand American dollars in cash, there’d been a sighting.

Of the bald man.

“You’re salivating,” Roman shared as if needing to exercise his observation skills.

“Contrary to your opinion, I don’t salivate.”

“Alright, I’ll concede the point, but you are jumping the gun. Mudryye lyudi proschityvayut svoyu vygodu, prezhde chem nanesti udar.”