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This morning’s message had been short, to the point, and descriptively unpleasant. Eve was glad she’d been alone when she’d read it, as she had broken out into a fit of giggles.
Kool-Eaze is a Breeze! Are you in hemorrhoid hell? Are they grouped together? Painful and sore? Itching? Help is on the way! Try our soothing balm today and feel amazing, glorious relief by evening. In eight to nine hours, they’ll be completely gone! Our soothing ointment will make the burn disappear and the swelling vanish! Order within the next eight hours and get another tube for free! Loved ones will thank you for it!
Translation: Group everyone into one room. The op would go down between eight and nine o’clock this evening. And her OZ team members were looking forward to seeing her again.
The plan was a simple one, which was the norm for OZ, as simplicity usually had the best chance for success. Putting too many complications into a mission was a good way to ensure the operation went sour.
Her one assignment tonight was ensuring everyone stayed in this room. Once Dalca’s guards were neutralized, unable to communicate the threat, the OZ team would appear. Having everyone together would ensure the safety of her team, as well as Dalca and his people.
She glanced around the room, taking in the evening’s guest. Dalca, of course, held center stage. A tall man with a slender build and dark eyes, his expression was one of arrogant authority. There was, though, a small gleam in his eyes that was worrisome. Dalca didn’t get excited about much, but for some reason he seemed uncharacteristically pleased tonight. What was that about?
Her gaze moved to the other occupants. Dalca’s wife sat beside him, but Eve noticed she wasn’t touching him. Even without knowing their background, it was obvious the woman disliked her husband immensely. Portia Dalca was a year older than her husband and looked ten times that. Being married to a controlling bastard couldn’t be easy. Eve might have felt sorry for her if not for the pesky fact that the woman ran part of her husband’s business. In Eve’s opinion, Portia and Andrei were made for each other.
The guests included Daniel Balan, Dalca’s attorney, and Maria, his wife. The others were an odd assortment of Dalca’s relatives and the guest of honor, Henri Burman and his wife, Greta. Eve suspected Henri was the reason Dalca looked so pleased with himself. As Burman was a wealthy financier from Germany, it stood to reason that he and Dalca had likely made a lucrative deal of some sort.
The plan was for Eve to be taken away along with the other guests. Until they knew the charges would stick, she wouldn’t break her cover. Though it wasn’t ideal, she had worked too hard to risk walking away too soon. It had been her suggestion to stay undercover until everyone was satisfied that Dalca would be convicted. Ash had agreed with her assessment.
Gideon would no doubt have a different opinion.
The thought of Gideon Wright made her want to smile. It had been five months since she’d seen her friend. Even though they often communicated via text using OZ code, it wasn’t the same as talking with him or seeing him. Gideon W
right had been her best friend for years, long before she’d joined the OZ team. Eve missed his sharp wit and dry sense of humor. Once he learned she might have to maintain her cover for a while longer, she figured she’d get an earful. That was okay. She knew how to give it right back to him. That’s what made their friendship work.
“Darling.” The heavily accented voice sounded behind her.
Putting on a sultry smile, she turned to the handsome man leaning over her. Darius Vasile was probably the easiest mark she’d ever targeted. She had met him, interestingly enough, through an online dating site. Though Darius cultivated a reputation that he was a player, she had done a thorough investigation and learned that despite his looks and money, he had difficulty keeping a girlfriend for more than a couple of months. He’d turned to online dating for assistance, and she had been there to swoop him up. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out why he couldn’t maintain a romantic relationship. The man was the neediest, most annoying human being she’d ever met.
“I’m bored.”
Sounding like a whiny adolescent was one of Darius’s least-admirable qualities.
She giggled softly, as he would expect. “Then come sit by me so I can entertain you.”
Needing no further encouragement, Darius settled onto the arm of her chair and nuzzled her neck. Covering her shudder of revulsion with another giggle, she reminded herself this was the job. She closed the door on Eve Wells and turned into his arms, becoming Kimmie once more.
“That’s odd,” Burman said. “My phone has no signal.”
Trying not to stiffen, Eve looked over Darius’s shoulder. Burman had a frown on his face as he held up his phone. A small triumphant zing went through her. The action was about to begin.
“Perhaps I can get a signal in another part of the house,” Burman said. “I need to make a call.”
Eve pulled herself from Darius’s clinging arms. To ensure everyone’s safety, no one could leave this room. She opened her mouth to grab everyone’s attention, but before she could say anything, Greta Burman gave an exasperated snort of disgust. “The only reason you want to use the phone is to call your mistress.”
Everyone, including Eve, fell into a stunned silence. Though Greta had been drinking steadily all night, she had spoken barely two words. Apparently, the alcohol, along with anger at her husband, had given her extra courage.
Eve kept her mouth closed and let the scene play out. The reason for staying in this room didn’t matter…it just needed to happen.
Greta stood and began to pace around the sofa, where her shocked husband continued to sit. “I have given you twenty years of my life, two beautiful children, and put up with your obnoxious family, and you repay me by sleeping with your harlot!”
“Greta!” Henri whispered harshly. “This is neither the time nor the place. Stop it right this minute. I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” She reached for her small evening bag on the sofa and pulled out a Ruger .38 Special. “Teach me a lesson?”
Eve swallowed a groan. Of all the times for Greta to assert herself. While she could applaud the woman’s show of independence and fortitude, doing so with a gun in her hand and too much alcohol in her blood was not the best way.
Ash and Gideon would be here any moment. The last thing they needed when they barged through the doors was to find a drunken, unstable woman brandishing a gun.
Disarming Greta while still acting as if she didn’t have a brain in her head would be tricky, but Eve had no choice. She had to get that gun out of the way.
