Sins of the Father by Fyn Alexander Read Free Book Online Page B

at,” Mackie said. He was the oldest man in the group, and he nodded at Mattie and winked. Older than Kael by about ten years, he was the type who still thought it was funny to make sexist jokes.
    Looking into the man’s eyes, Kael said, “She’s lovely, but my boyfriend is much cuter.” His tone was utterly deadpan, and from the surprised, then amused looks on the men’s faces, they thought he was joking. Leaving it at that, Kael walked toward Number 10 while they followed.
    The prime minister met Kael in the front hall of the three-hundred-year-old house. There were one hundred rooms, and he intended to look in every one of them before Romodanovsky arrived in forty minutes.
    “Saunders?” The PM offered his hand.
    Kael shook it. “Prime Minister.”
    “I asked for you in particular.”
    “Yes, Stephen Conran told me.” Kael smiled very slightly. “I assume I have unlimited access to the house.”
    The PM nodded. “I’ll get someone to show you around.”
    “There’s no need. I know exactly where everything is, but I still need to do a walkabout before the man arrives. I’ll start in the basement.” Kael walked away with Thornton on his heels.
    “Bloody hell, sir. That was the prime minister,” she said excitedly. “Should you really just walk away like that what you’re done, like he’s the lackey or something?”
    “He’s just a man, Thornton, a man like any other.”
    “I still wish I could tell everyone I know where I’ve been and who I’ve met.”
    “The urge will pass,” Kael said. “If it doesn’t, you won’t last long in this job.”
    But he had no worries about Thornton. She tailed him through the White Drawing Room, the Terracotta Room, the State and Private Dining Rooms. Everywhere they walked, Kael memorized the doorways and windows until he had a three-dimensional map in his head. Even while visualizing, he talked, continually telling Mattie what he expected, where she would stand, which gestures meant what. They ended the tour at the third-floor apartment where the prime minister and his family lived. Romodanovsky would be staying in a corner bedroom with a study and bathroom attached.
    “He’ll be here in eight minutes if he’s on time,” Kael said, checking his watch. Swiftly he strode back through the house, Mattie running to keep up with his long stride. When they reached the entrance hall, Kael pointed at the door leading down to the basement kitchen. “Go down again and tell the cooks that the Romodanovsky special security detail will expect to be fed. I only said what I did to frighten the men.”
    “Oh thank God,” Mattie said, hurrying off.
    With a smile, Kael watched her go and then stood unobtrusively beside the guard chair where he could watch the front door. The prime minister and a number of people Kael recognized as cabinet ministers were gathering to welcome the Russian. Several minutes later, the front door opened and the PM stepped outside for the photo op.
    When Arkadiy Romodanovsky walked in, Kael stared at the man, forgetting for a split second why he was there. The Russian minister stood well over six feet tall with a typically Russian face that looked as if it had been carved from rock of the Caucasus Mountains. His gray hair was cut into a military-style crew cut. He was thin, with a strong, rangy build. For a man of sixty-two, he looked incredibly physically powerful. Before Angel, Kael would have fucked a man like him with pleasure.
    From his brief, Kael knew exactly what Romodanovsky looked like. Pictures of him were fairly rare, unlike most politicians, whose images could easily be found online. A picture may paint a thousand words, but there was nothing like the presence of a person to convey their biography. This man had a magnetic and commanding charisma radiating from him. With a practiced smile, he spoke in perfect English to the prime minister.
    The moment Romodanovsky came abreast of him, Kael fell into step with him, though removed