Page 153 of To Catch a Sub

And now Novak would do everything he could to throw doubt on the situation. He’d shift the focus from finding Colette, to Colette herself. Instead of a helpless woman in desperate need of rescue, he’d make her a criminal who may or may not be in on it.

Landon stared at Novak, who smiled slowly.

“I see you’re not feeling well. I’ll come back later. Maybe tomorrow or the next day.” Novak smiled again. “If we have any updates by then.”

Novak walked out, and Landon let him go. He couldn’t beat information out of the man in the middle of an emergency room. Some burly nurse would tackle and sedate him long before he got anything useful out of the traitor.

He’d asked Colette to trust him. To stay with him.

And he’d failed her.

* * *

Andrei frowned at his pocket, which had been buzzing on and off for the past half an hour. He normally didn’t even carry it while on the club floor, but this evening he’d kept it in his pocket during prep and set up.

Still, it shouldn’t be buzzing. He had almost every possible notification silenced. Giving into curiosity, he put down the wooden paddle he was oiling and pulled the device from his pocket, planning to mute whatever app it was he’d missed.

A series of bright red notifications popped up. All from his car.

An accident has been detected. Stay calm.

Emergency services have been alerted.

If Landon had crashed his car, Andrei would kill him.

Andrei tapped the first notice, his irritation fading to something colder as he read the data the car had pushed to his phone. This wasn’t a minor crash. The airbags deployed, the drive system automatically disabled.

Andrei called Landon’s mobile and looked up, catching Rolf’s gaze.

Rolf was talking to another man—a new potential Club Alibi Dom in residence for the second club Rolf was opening. The man wasn’t Interpol. No, he was something scarier and far more powerful—an investigator for the international court.

Rolf had flown him to London so he could see what the club was about. Good thing he was here. Andrei had a funny feeling he was going to have to take over for the night.

No answer from Landon. He called again.

Rolf frowned at Andrei, the frown deepening as Andrei raced across the room.

“Andrei, this is—” Rolf started the introductions.

“Something happened to Landon and Colette. My car says it was in an accident.”

Rolf’s mouth pressed into a flat line, immediately transitioning into crisis mode. “Call Landon.”

As if he was too stupid to think of that. “I am; he’s not answering.”

“Something wrong?” The new man said.

“Yes.” Andrei ended the call when it went to Landon’s voicemail. “One of our club subs was just kidnapped by the Bratva, and now we have to go help the other Dom in residence rescue her.”

Mateus Carvalho didn’t even blink, proving he heard and saw far crazier things on a daily basis. “If you don’t rescue her by the time the club opens, would you like me to handle it, or turn people away?”

Andrei stopped listening to Rolf’s rapid instructions to Mateus, opening another app on his phone.

In Romania where he grew up, dash cams were common. When he bought a British car, he made sure to have some installed. And he got the expensive, discreet ones that most people didn’t notice. They were set to send all footage to both his phone and a cloud server.

Andrei accessed the front and rear camera footage from the time of the accident. He hit play, watching dispassionately as Landon and Colette were ambushed. He winced briefly when an unconscious Landon rolled off the bonnet.

Andrei hoped he was unconscious, rather than dead.