Page 40 of The Hunter's Empire

Before I can respond, amusement flickers briefly across his face.

"Publicly." He adds, as though that somehow improves the situation.

"Get out."

His laugh follows him out of the office a moment before the door closes behind him. I lean back slowly in my chair, my gaze settling on the files still scattered across the desk as my thoughts return to the operation waiting for us in Ireland. The Keegans, the information buried deep enough to stay hidden for years, and the risks attached to uncovering it.

Chapter 10

Zora

Soft amber lighting glows against dark wood and polished black surfaces as Domenico’s private jet cuts smoothly through the clouds toward Ireland. The cabin is expensive in his kind of way. Everything feels deliberate. Clean lines. Rich leather. Minimal noise. No unnecessary displays of wealth.

Very him.

Across from me, Domenico sits with one arm resting loosely against the armrest while security files glow across the screen of his tablet. His attention moves calmly between surveillance layouts, guest lists, and estate maps as though infiltrating one of the most dangerous families in Europe is merely another scheduled obligation. Nothing about him suggests tension. Which somehow makes him more unsettling.

A few moments later, Domenico reaches into a leather folder beside him and pulls out two passports.

He keeps one for himself and slides the other across the table toward me.

"For the party." He says simply.

I pick it up carefully.Vivienne Laurent.French.

The photo looks enough like me to pass without hesitation. Entry stamps from Monaco, Milan, Zurich, and Dubai fill several pages, creating the illusion of a life lived under this name for years instead of days.

Attached beneath the passport sits a thinner file containing supporting documents. Investment records. Charity affiliations. Private membership accounts. A complete identity built carefully enough to survive scrutiny from people trained to notice inconsistencies.

Across from me, Domenico flips open his own passport briefly before setting it beside his tablet.

Lucien Moreau.

The document looks older than mine. Used. Broken in around the edges like this identity has lived an actual life before tonight.

I flip through several pages before looking up at him. "These are thorough."

"They need to be." His tone remains calm as he sets his tablet aside.

"The Keegans investigate everyone invited into their orbit. Real names create unnecessary complications."

I study the passport again. "And our cover?"

"Wealthy private investors with old European connections." His gaze lifts briefly to mine. "Dated long enough to look comfortable around each other. Detached enough not to attract attention."

The last part feels intentional. Like he already expects friction between us.

"You’ve done this before."

A faint smile touches his mouth.

"How many names do you actually have?"

He leans back slightly in his seat, completely at ease. "Enough."

I look back down at the passport in my hand, suddenly aware of how carefully constructed this entire operation already is. How carefulheis.

"We maintain the cover at all times once we land." Domenico says after a moment. "Not just at the party."