The Freedom Broker (Thea Paris #1)

She spoke in a measured voice. “If you want to join us on the plane to Athens, pack your bags. We leave in twenty minutes.”

Peter scrambled to his feet. “You know I’ll do everything I can to help you.” He backed out of the room, his uneasy gaze on Rif and Aegis.

Rif slammed the door after he’d left. “I don’t trust him.”

“Me either, but he was telling the truth about the watch.”

Rif frowned. “He’s hiding something.”

“Of course he is, but threatening him won’t work.” Brute force wasn’t the way to get through to a guy like Peter—she had to make him feel like part of the team, let him know that whatever he’d done could be forgiven. “You need to work on your approach.”

“We have different styles.”

“What do you call yours—unbridled testosterone? Torture?”

He stepped closer to her, his voice tight. “I’ll do whatever it takes to find Christos.”

She let go of the argument. They might have different approaches, but he cared for Papa and was doing everything he could to help. “If Peter comes along, I want you to play nice. Meanwhile, let’s go question the kitchen staff.”





Chapter Sixteen



Nikos strolled along the African savannah section of Athens’s Attica Zoological Park. He sported a typical touristy polo shirt and khaki pants, a bag of peanuts in hand.

A tightness settled in his throat. Who had taken Christos—and why? All his meticulous planning, and what had happened? The one contingency he hadn’t imagined.

The feeling of being thwarted grated on him, an old wound. Father and son had never been able to connect emotionally after his abduction in Africa, but he’d kept trying. Even graduating magna cum laude from Harvard Business School hadn’t impressed his father, who had never offered him a position in the family business.

Despite his father’s obvious lack of confidence in his abilities, Nikos knew he had the acumen and drive to create something special. He’d just had to think differently. He’d had to think outside of Paris Industries. And that he did, creating an organization with the same global reach but selling arms to the underdogs of the world, allowing them to rebel against unjust governments and voracious corporations like his father’s. He also gave aid to the downtrodden, empathetic to their plight, funneling more than half of his income into helping children affected by war. They were the innocents . . . as he had been.

As he thought of his abduction and the long months he’d spent in captivity, his hands closed into tight fists, but he forced himself to release the deep-rooted anger. Emotions facilitated nothing. He needed to use his mind.

The beauty of his surroundings helped him regain his equilibrium. Seawater splashed in a nearby waterfall, tropical fish torpedoing around the basin. Early-morning sunshine cast fractured shadows of the acacia trees onto the grasslands, reminding him of the real Africa, his home.

The monkeys in their nearby habitat squawked at him, their intelligent gazes assessing the likelihood of his carrying treats. He tossed a handful of his peanuts into their cage. A mid-size monkey grabbed the nuts and divvied them up among the smaller creatures. Seconds later, the alpha of the group descended, pounded his chest, cawed a loud call, and pounced on the food. The other monkeys dropped their peanuts and scurried off.

Like monkeys, humans had their hierarchy. Christos had been the greedy, overbearing alpha for years, scaring everyone else off so he could plunder the spoils. But that was about to end. Thea needed to see their father in his true light—she had to be made to understand it was Papa’s greed that had destroyed Nikos’s life.

First he had to find Christos before his sister did. His most trusted men were scouring Santorini and Greece, and they’d discovered the identity of the pilot who’d flown the helicopter that had whisked Christos off the yacht.

Kidnapping a man of Christos’s stature was no easy feat, and the brutality of the abduction, including the execution of the crew, demonstrated the commitment involved. Immersed in the kidnapping world himself, Nikos knew most of the major players. He just had to figure out who had taken Christos and why.

The image of his proud father in a cage like the monkeys, covered in his own filth—a far cry from his usual platinum-spoon lifestyle—almost made Nikos smile, even as his anger threatened to resurface. He wouldn’t tolerate someone interfering with his plans for his father. Just as in a well-crafted chess strategy, it had taken a Herculean effort to get the pieces into place, and the timing was crucial.

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