Victor, p.23
Victor, page 23
His eyes no longer hooded, but dark and full of the fury of an incoming storm, stared down at me with gripping intent as his voice quieted. “What, specifically, did you just mistrust about me?”
“Your hair,” I admitted.
His frown deepened, but he did not mock me. “Because?”
“This morning, it was disheveled.” Shame coated my voice, and I lowered my gaze. “Like it is now from my hands.” Already this far, I forced myself to say the rest. “It made me wonder—no,” I amended, “it made me fearful. That you were with another woman, doing with her what you are doing with me now.” Sharp jealousy I had no right to own made the last words slip past my lips in an ashamed whisper. “I do not even know if you are married or in a relationship or have many women, and yet I kiss you as if I know these things.”
His hand moved from my cheek to my chin. “Look at me.”
I did not want to look at him, because I already knew from the stern tone of his voice that whatever he was going to say next, I would not like it. “Non.”
His thumb glanced across my chin in a firm stroke that was both alarming and comforting. “Don’t hide from me. Give me your eyes, Sabine.”
My name, his caress, the totality of his dominance, it was as if I were not myself when I was with him, but the type of woman I wanted to be.
I looked up.
Vance
Fuck, her eyes. They were killing me.
The truth was going to kill me more, but I said it anyway. “I was with a woman last night.”
Recoiling as if I’d hit her, she dropped her gaze.
Grasping her arms and holding firm, I didn’t let her escape. “If I had known you existed, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Arching away from me, she pulled. “I do not want to hear this.”
“I’m not going to be dishonest with you.” I didn’t want that with this woman. “Whether you want to hear it or not, you need to.” Same as I needed to know what I was dealing with when it came to her, not that I needed another reason to fucking kill Bertrand. “I’m not married or attached, but I’m far from celibate.”
More agitated by the second, she shook her head. “I am a fool.”
Oh, fuck no. “You are not broken, nor are you a fool, and that is the last time you will ever insult yourself in front of me again. Understand?”
She brushed me off. “You call it insult, I call it truth. The same truth that would make me a fool to believe that a man I just met is going to stop being who he is. And for what? Something more than merely sex? Am I supposed to stop being who I am?”
“You really want to have this conversation, pet?” She didn’t know who the hell she was dealing with. “Because I’m more than willing to go down this road, and for the record, this situation you’re in isn’t who you are.”
Her accent thickened, and her words came faster. “This is insanity. You do not even know me.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” But I fucking knew now what my mother had meant when she’d told me and Ronan as kids that love didn’t have a timeline. It was or it wasn’t, and you just knew.
“Did you know the woman last night?” she threw back.
Half of me, the conditioned part that’d spent seventeen years fighting, wanted to be in the ring fucking shit up. But a new part, something that’d come alive when she’d walked into that office didn’t want to be fighting against everything anymore. I wanted to fight for something. But I wasn’t going to take shit in the process. “I’m not throwing Bertrand in your face, darling.”
“Darling,” she repeated, shaking her head like I’d insulted her, but then her tone and posture swung like a pendulum, bypassing submissive and going straight to defeat. “You should throw him in my face. You should blame me for all of it.”
I didn’t know what was more fucked up, that she’d said that shit to me or that I knew exactly how she felt. “You know my stance on should, and I’m not blaming you for a damn thing.”
She didn’t say shit for a beat, then she spoke so low, I almost didn’t hear her. “What if I want to blame you for something?”
“Like?”
Her chest rose with an inhale. “Never mind.”
Not a fucking chance. “Answer the question, Sabine,” I ordered, using every ounce of dominance I’d been holding back from her.
No hesitation, she fired back her questions. “If I am with you, will we run into this woman? See her around Manhattan? Is she going to look at me with smugness or worse, pity?”
Fucking Bertrand was a dead man. For now, though, I didn’t step around the truth. I owned it. “It was in Miami, and no, you won’t see her because I didn’t bother asking her name before I kicked her out of my penthouse.” The same damn penthouse that still had last night’s sheets on the bed because I hadn’t had a chance to tell the cleaning service to change them yet.
Which, at this point, was the only fucking excuse I could think of as to why we weren’t there, having this conversation in private. Because now, more than ever, I wanted her away from Bertrand and the trail of destruction he’d left in his wake that shit all over her self-esteem.
Ignoring the bartender as he came back and unlocked the door, she didn’t look at me as she fired more mistrust. “Not knowing her name means nothing. You could still see her again.”
I saw through her. I saw what the hell this was really about. She was fixating on the wrong damn thing, but I wasn’t going to insult her by not addressing her fear of some random hookup of mine. “Not knowing the woman’s name should tell you exactly what she doesn’t mean to me, Sabine. I don’t have her number, and I have no intention of seeing her again.”
A sound somewhere between anguish and distress escaped her lips as my cell vibrated and the door to the lanai opened.
Ronan stuck his head out and gave me a pointed look. “He’s looking for her.”
Fuck. “Two options, love. We go inside, or we leave right now.” Screw catching Bertrand in the act of whatever bullshit he had up his sleeve, I wanted her away from him.
Her posture stiffened. “I cannot leave.”
“Ten seconds,” Ronan warned.
“You can do anything you want, pet.” But she didn’t see that.
“No.” She shook her head. “I am going inside.”
Dropping my hold on her, I let her walk past me toward the door my brother was holding open. Even now, even with the pressure she was under, she moved with grace and dignity.
Following her back inside, I coasted a hand over her hip and lowered my voice so only she could hear. “We’re not done with this conversation, love, but know this, I don’t want any other woman.”
Before she could respond, if she was going to at all, Bertrand was on us.
Dismissing her, the asshole glanced between me and Ronan. “There’re two of you.”
Remaining silent, my brother didn’t offer his hand or an introduction. If Bertrand was smart or had an ounce of self-preservation, he would’ve taken notice, but he didn’t.
My cell vibrated again as I casually turned my comm back on and chuckled without an ounce of humor. “Two for the price of one.”
Bertrand, the fuck, didn’t miss a beat. “Good to know I was only getting half of what I paid for.” He put his hand on Sabine’s shoulder and applied pressure. “We’re leaving. Whichever half is Victor, let’s go, you’re coming with us.” He turned her toward the exit like she was a fucking disobedient dog.
“On the move,” Alpha said through comms.
“Incoming,” November warned a second before a man in a suit appeared in front of Bertrand with three bodyguards behind him, blocking their exit.
Knowing who the fuck it was, I palmed my VP9.
Ronan’s hand landed on my shoulder in warning as all three of the asshole’s bodyguards reached for their guns.
“Stand down, Victor,” Alpha quietly commanded through comms.
“Flanking,” Echo’s voice came through next. “I’ve got the two on the left. Twin, you got the third on the right?”
Ronan barely tipped his chin in acknowledgment.
“Joseph.” The asshole smiled, waving a dismissive hand toward his bodyguards without looking at them. “Good to see you.” He glanced at me before looking back at Bertrand. “Glad you’ve upgraded your security. You can never be too careful these days.”
The asshole’s three bodyguards slowly took their hands off their guns.
Fucking livid, I reluctantly let go of my 9mm.
Then the head of one of the top crime syndicates in the northern hemisphere turned his attention on Sabine. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” Holding his hand out, the mafia asshole introduced himself. “Massimo Vincenzo.”
Sabine reached for his outstretched hand. “Sabine Malcher.”
Vincenzo didn’t only take her offered hand. Grabbing the other, the gun running, drug dealing, human trafficking fuck brought both of her hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles before glancing at her left ring finger. “Beautiful piece, bella. Your husband has good taste.” He dropped her hands and looked at Bertrand. “Apologies for the delayed arrival, a previous engagement ran longer than expected.”
Missing pieces of the picture fell together, and I fucking growled under my breath.
Alpha picked it up through comms. “Objective on the target, Victor.”
“Fuck that,” Echo clipped through comms. “I can drop Mr. Mafia and two of his guards before anyone blinks. Twin can get the third guard, and the spray will hit the auction fuck in the face. Win-win.”
“Two more Vincenzo guards outside, two drivers in two vehicles,” November interjected.
Echo snorted. “Now you fucking tell us, November. Nice heads-up.”
“Don’t shoot,” I whispered, throwing a warning glare in Echo’s direction.
“No one fires near the woman,” Alpha ordered. “Echo, we’re not starting a war with the Sicilians.”
Bertrand gripped Vincenzo on the shoulder and smiled like they were old friends. “No apology necessary. As you know, any of my staff is always happy to give you a private showing.”
“Of course.” Vincenzo turned his smile on Sabine again. “I hope we will meet again.” Glancing back at Bertrand, he nodded. “I see you’re heading out.”
“Yes, Vienna for the auction,” Bertrand answered like the whole damn conversation was choreographed. “See you soon, Massimo.”
With a knowing smile, Vincenzo nodded. “Safe travels.” He turned to walk out, and his bodyguards followed.
“I’m calling it,” Echo quipped through comms. “Auction fuck has the rest of the diamonds, and mafia fuck is buying them. Did you see the way he looked at her ring?”
We all fucking saw it.
“Just found something,” November interrupted. “Das Safe in Vienna’s eighth district. A safe box registered to a J. Harrington has dual access granted. Second grantee is listed as spouse, first initial C.”
Motherfucker.
Dropping his bullshit pretense the second Vincenzo was out of sight, Bertrand barked at Sabine. “The jet’s waiting, let’s go.” He walked out in front of her.
“Alpha,” I warned under my breath.
“I heard,” Trefor replied through comms. “November, target’s moving. Victor’s with the woman, Echo and I are on their six. Vienna’s a go, update Zulu. Status on Vincenzo?”
“Two vehicles loaded and already leaving the premises,” November replied. “Bertrand’s driver is out front waiting. I’m ten yards back.”
“Find out where Vincenzo’s heading. Two car follow, use Blade. Stay alert, they’ll be looking for a tail,” Alpha ordered November. “Echo and I will ride with Victor to the airport. Ronan, you’re out. Your wife makes you too high profile on this. Thanks for the assist tonight.”
“Good copy,” November replied.
“Ten-four,” Ronan added before turning off his comm and looking at me. He raised one eyebrow in question, asking if I needed him anyway.
Appreciating the gesture, I shook my head at my brother. “Thanks for tonight.”
He tipped his chin, then glanced at Sabine. “Miss Malcher.”
“Mr. Conlon.”
Ronan turned toward the exit, and I took Sabine’s arm. “This way, pet.” If we were lucky, her ring would be the only thing that fucking asshole Bertrand sold to Vincenzo.
Sabine
I did not understand what was happening or know who the man with the Italian accent was, but anxiety was tearing apart my resolve to stay and see this through as Joseph barked hatred at me.
“The jet’s waiting, let’s go.” Issuing his edict, Joseph strode out of the event.
“Alpha,” Vance warned low and angry as his gaze drifted, then he was still a moment as if listening to something being said in the communication device in his ear.
His personality nothing like his identical twin, Ronan touched his ear, then looked at his brother.
As if a silent communication passed between them, Vance shook his head. “Thanks for tonight.”
Ronan gave his brother a slight nod then turned to glance at me. Even though his eyes were the exact same dichotomy of color as Vance’s, there was a lethalness behind them I had not seen in Vance’s. “Miss Malcher.”
I barely refrained from stepping closer to Vance. “Mr. Conlon.”
Ronan left without another word, and Vance took my arm. “This way, pet.”
It suddenly occurred to me that all the men could have been listening to our entire conversation outside. Oh God, they could have heard our kiss.
“What’s that look, love?” Vance demanded as he ushered me out of the hotel while Mr. Trefor and Echo silently fell into step behind us.
I glanced behind us.
Both men were scanning everything around us as we walked through the lobby of the upscale hotel.
I looked back at Vance and spoke as quietly as possible. “Are they listening?”
Scanning the lobby like the other men, Vance spared me a quick glance. “Who, love?”
I casually touched my ear.
He lifted his chin once in understanding. “Now, yes. Before, no.”
I exhaled, but I did not relax. “Who is Mr. Vincenzo?”
“No one good.” Vance held the door that led out of the venue, and I caught a glimpse of Joseph’s car.
Suddenly I did not want to ride to the airport with Joseph, let alone get on a plane with him. “Are you really coming with us?”
“Just try and stop me, love.” Vance’s gaze drifted. “November, sitrep.” He listened for a brief moment as Joseph’s driver held the door of a black sedan while Joseph got inside. Then Vance stopped the driver from closing the door and spoke to Joseph. “There’s a potential security threat, Bertrand. I’ll drive you and Miss Malcher to the airport.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Joseph snapped at him. “It’s a ten-minute drive, and I didn’t hire you for security. I have my own. Get in the damn car, or don’t.” He barely glanced at me. “Sabine, get in.”
I stepped forward, but Vance held his hand out, blocking me.
“Mr. Bertrand,” Vance enunciated as if fighting for patience. “You may not have hired me for security, but I am security. If I tell you there’s a potential threat, it’s because there is one.”
“Then get me some real protection. Tell Trefor to ride with me,” Joseph demanded.
Vance glanced at Mr. Trefor, who Joseph had studiously ignored all evening, and nodded once.
Without a word, Mr. Trefor stepped forward and got in the sedan with Joseph, closing the door behind him.
“This way, love.” Vance took my left arm, Echo stepped to my right side, and both men walked me to where Vance had left his Range Rover parked in front of the valet stand.
As if choreographed, Echo moved in front of us and opened the rear passenger door, Vance ushered me inside and seconds later, both men were up front with Vance behind the wheel.
We had barely pulled away from the curb when Echo let out a sound of disgust. “Are you hearing this shit?”
“Yeah,” Vance answered absently as he scanned the street in every direction before looking in his side and rearview mirrors.
“What is going on?” This had something to do with the Italian man, I was sure of it.
Echo shook his head in disgust. “Bertrand is ripping Alpha a new one. The fucker is yelling loud enough for us to hear every word through comms.”
“What for?” I did not ask why. Joseph never needed a reason.
“What do you think?” Echo asked sarcastically before tipping his chin at Vance. “He’s pissed at Lover Boy here.” Echo touched his ear. “Hey, Alpha, tell the auction fuck we’re both hittin’ it. Then tell him I have a bullet with his name on it.” Echo took his communication device out and pocketed it. “Christ, I can’t listen to that shit anymore.” He glanced at me. “For real, sweetheart, you want me to shoot him? Leg? Arm? Doesn’t have to be fatal, just painful.”
“Echo,” Vance snapped.
The huge man looked at Vance. “Right, pissing in your territory. Got it. I’ll leave the shooting to you.” He smirked. “That is, if you have any aim left after this afternoon.”
My blood ran cold, but before the last words left Echo’s mouth, Vance was violently swerving the SUV to the side of the road and pulling his gun out of his holster faster than I could blink.
Pressing the barrel directly to Echo’s temple, Vance issued an order at him. “Tell her I wasn’t with anyone.”
“He wasn’t with anyone,” Echo repeated drolly.
“Tell her exactly where I was,” Vance demanded.
Echo sighed theatrically. Then, as if he had no regard for the gun aimed at his head, he turned in his seat to look back at me. “Your boyfriend was in the office all afternoon, getting his ass kicked by me because he has anger management issues and started a fight. Then he went home, licked his wounds, and showed up for your party all prettied up for you in his pussy blue suit and thousand dollar wingtips no self-respecting SEAL would ever wear.”
