Silence No More

41. Good Brothers Kidnap their Sisters?

"The second option is for my sister to be kidnapped."

My eyes shot wide. Kidnap his sister? He couldn't honestly want to attack Adaira to solve his own troubles and...no! Not even Mr Ambrose could be that despicable, could he? I opened my mouth to lay into him—until, a moment later, I closed it again as I realised what he was really up to.

Oh my.

The gloves had come off.

"You mean..."

He met my questioning gaze with a virtuous one of his own that had probably fooled hundreds of savvy businessmen during negotiations worth billions of pounds. "Some nefarious individuals will conveniently break into my sister's bedroom and snatch her away in the middle of the night. Of course, as her loving brother, I will be appropriately devastated. Heartbroken, even."

One corner of my mouth twitched. "I'm sure."

"Most likely," he continued with a poker face that would make the god of gambling cry in envy, "at some point, my dear father will receive a ransom note. Of course, at that point, I will find myself in some financial difficulties and will be unable to help him. Poor Adaira will have to languish in captivity for quite some time, at the very least till she reaches her majority and can make decisions for herself. Such a shame, don't you think?"

"Such a shame indeed." My lips twitched again. "And where do you think she will be languishing in captivity? At some holiday resort in the Caribbean?"

"Possibly. You never know what fiendish plans are hatched in the twisted minds of criminals."

Darn, that poker face was incredible.

And so, coincidentally, was he.

Sliding both arms around him, I pulled my husband into a big family hug, Berty right between us. "You are a truly good man, do you know that? In a totally evil way."

He gave me a look that was appropriately icy to demonstrate that he was completely unmoved by the emotional moment. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you are talking about, Mrs Ambrose."

"Of course you don't."

"But, speaking of good men..." Raising an arm, Mr Ambrose snapped his fingers.

A humongous figure emerged out of the shadows in the corner of the room—shadows that should have been far too small to hide him. "Yes, Sahib?"

"Make preparations for plan 'Extended Holiday'. Once we can set things in motion, notify me."

"Yes, Sahib."

"You have two days."

"Then I shall leave immediately, Sahib. If I may be excused?"

Mr Ambrose gave a nod. That was all Karim required. In a blink, he was out of the room and striding down the corridor outside, the sound of his footsteps receding into the distance. I waited till we were alone in the silence of the night and then slowly turned to look up at the towering form of Mr Rikkard Ambrose.

"Mr Ambrose, Sir?"

"Yes, Mrs Ambrose?"

"I think you deserve a reward."

"Indeed?"

Placing Berty in his crib, I pulled a screen in front of it that was decorated with pretty flowers, clouds, and other age-appropriate things, which were much better for him to look at than the things his daddy and I would be doing soon. "Oh yes indeed, Sir."

Prowling towards him with swaying hips, I grabbed him by the bow-tie. "Now...why don't you open a few buttons? You look far too tense. You should relax."