The Power Trip

adventure out there.

Then one day he’d received an urgent call from his grandmother in the UK informing him that his grandfather had been rushed to the hospital, and that she needed him to fly to England immediately.

Sierra drove him to the airport. She hugged him tightly and pledged her undying love. He promised he would come back as soon as he could.

A week later he received a FedEx envelope marked High Priority. It came from a name and address in Los Angeles he did not know. Inside the envelope were half a dozen photos of Sierra in various stages of undress with several different males. One of them was Hammond Patterson. Sierra looked dreamy, almost happy, with the little half-smile on her face that Flynn knew only too well.

SHE WAS ENJOYING HERSELF.

There was a typed note enclosed.

STOP BELIEVING YOUR SO-CALLED GIRLFRIEND IS PERFECT.

OPEN YOUR EYES AND SEE THE TRUTH.

He felt a sickness and rage he had never experienced before. He felt betrayed and hollow inside.

Why?

Why had she professed undying love?

Why had she spent all those months play-acting something that didn’t exist?

And what was she doing with Hammond Patterson?

His fury knew no bounds. He wanted to get on the next plane to L.A. and confront her.

But he couldn’t. His grandfather was not expected to live much longer and his grandmother needed him.

He was stuck in England, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Chapter Forty-One

When Cruz Mendoza wasn’t out causing mayhem on the high seas, he was a lazy son of a bitch, spending his days lolling by Sergei Zukov’s pool in Acapulco, wearing nothing more than a skimpy man-thong while entertaining hookers he’d picked up the night before at some dubious night club in town. It made a pleasant change from life in his guarded compound in Somalia, where he always had to tread carefully, for he had many enemies intent on taking over his lucrative business.

Although only in his early forties, Cruz appeared to be much older. He was stocky and balding, with weather-beaten skin, two prominent gold front teeth, and a pronounced limp — the result of being shot in the thigh by an irate husband who’d caught him screwing his sixteen-year-old trophy wife. Cruz had gotten his revenge by persuading the sixteen year old to run off with him, then dumping her when he’d had enough.

Watching Cruz play was putting Sergei on edge. Cruz had insisted that everything was set, but the way Ina’s brother was sitting around bothered him.

‘Relax,’ Cruz told him. ‘We strike at the right moment. My contact on the yacht tells me everything, an’ here in town my men wait for me to give ’em the word. We let the rich motherfuckers get comfortable on their fuckin’ yacht trip, then we move in when I say so. I’ve done this a hundred times, an’ believe me, surprise always works.’

‘So there’s no way you’ll fuck it up?’ Sergei growled.

‘No, Sergei,’ Cruz retorted with a slight sneer, a sneer that Sergei did not appreciate. ‘I’m as dependable as takin’ a daily shit.’

Sergei knew that Ina’s brother was a slippery son of a bitch. He wouldn’t put it past him to try and pull something.

Then again, Cruz wasn’t stupid. He must realize that to fuck with Sergei Zukov would be beyond dumb.

Sergei was impatient, but Cruz was confident that everything was on course.

Only time would tell.

Chapter Forty-Two

Aleksandr sat alone and thoughtful on the private deck outside the master suite, smoking a cigar. He was satisfied that the long-planned-for trip was finally underway. There had been a moment in time when he’d sensed that everything might fall apart after he and Bianca had exchanged heated words. She could be so headstrong and unpredictable, who knew what she might do? However, once she’d seen that he’d named the yacht after her, she’d melted — exactly as he’d hoped she would, and here they were, everything on track.

Bianca was like a world-class racehorse, difficult to tame, but apart from the occasional incident, such as the inappropriate photos on the Internet, all was going well.

Unfortunately, his ongoing battle with his wife continued to heat up. What a difficult and spiteful woman Rushana had turned out to be. There had been affairs before — Aleksandr would be the first to admit that he’d never been a faithful husband. Only in the past, Rushana had chosen to ignore his infidelities. It wasn’t until Bianca had entered his life, and his request for a divorce, that Rushana had turned into a vindictive bitch. She was getting everything she wanted financially, but it seemed that wasn’t enough for her. Oh no, her anger that he was with a world-famous super-model infuriated her beyond belief. Rushana was desperate to see him single and alone, pining for the family he’d once had.

Bianca’s latest escapade had only fuelled the fire, giving Rushana some powerful new ammunition. ‘I will not have my daughters in the company of such a prostitute,’ she’d screamed at his lawyers, along with other insults. ‘Until Aleksandr stops being with that tramp, there will be no divorce. And I will not allow him to see our children.’

It was not a happy situation, although he was sure that once Rushana realized that he had no intention of leaving Bianca, she would be forced to give in.

Rushana’s fury and jealousy had not changed his plans. He still intended to ask Bianca to be his wife, and if he had his way, by the end of the trip they would be engaged.

* * *

Drinks at five thirty on the top deck. The sun slowly setting in the clear sky. Champagne and canapes being served on silver trays by Mercedes and Renee, the two stewardesses. Den, the barman, standing attentively behind the bar. Soft Brazilian music wafting from hidden speakers.

Bianca made her entrance in a white Valentino backless dress, Aleksandr close behind her in a long-sleeved black sweater and pants.

Although Aleksandr was twenty years older than Bianca, they made a good-looking couple. A fact that did not escape Guy, who was on hand, supervising his staff. As entertainment director, Guy was very hands-on, always there to anticipate the boss’s every need. This was the first time he’d worked for Aleksandr Kasianenko — of course he knew who the man was, who didn’t? Before hooking up with Bianca, Aleksandr had managed to keep a low profile, but once they were together his cover was blown. The words ‘billionaire businessman’ and ‘Russian oligarch’ were forever attached to his name.

Poor sod, Guy thought, watching the famous couple. It has to be a real downer, everyone knowing all your crap.

Guy had recently viewed the raunchy and uncensored images of Bianca on his laptop. He considered her to