Page 127 of What Remains

Felicity, huh? Nah, Jezebel is more fitting as far as I’m concerned, and that’s what I’ll continue calling her.

“I worked with her at Interpol. Virtually only,” Julian fills in the dead space. “She went dark in . . .” The sound of typing cuts over the line before he curses. “. . . 2025. The same year Molly resigned from MI6.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Carter mutters, closing his eyes. “That’s the same year we took out The Collective and I acquired this hotel with Sebastian.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand, and my body tenses. Everyone at this table is probably having the same reaction after the hell that group put us through. There’s no way this is a coincidence.

I look down the table at Oliver as he scooches Mya’s chair closer to him. He clasps her hand, and I wouldn’t blame them if they took off from the room. After everything they dealt with because of that evil group . . .

So much for that being behind us all.

That mission also brought both myself and Julian into Gwen’s life on a regular basis. I was just the lucky bastard who got to live down the hall from her.

“Could Molly and Jezebel have been working for The Collective as insiders at MI6 and Interpol?” Gwen asks, and it sounds like she plans on continuing to use that name for her as well.

“I don’t think this is a revenge situation for us taking out The Collective.” Carter and his gut feelings are usually right. Well, probably not his mother-in-law one, but I’m willing to give him that one. “If Molly and our hacker were insiders for The Collective, they weren’t important enough to be impacted by their fall. We would have known about them if they were, and they’d be behind bars.”

“But why do this?” Gwen’s shoulders hunch forward. “If we’re right, and Molly’s now out on her own, what’s her endgame, if not revenge?”

“We cut off Molly’s power supply when we took out The Collective, which killed the money flowing into her pocket. People lose their minds when you mess with their money. My guess is she found a way to get the pipeline going again, and she’ll do whatever it takes to ensure it doesn’t stop this time.” Carter braces a hand on the back of the only empty chair and his gaze shoots to the phone, as if suddenly remembering Julian’s still quietly on the line. “When did you fake your death?”

“During your operation against The Collective. I had a feeling they were onto me, and I wouldn’t be able to continue providing you a digital assist if they killed me for real. So, I beat them to it.”

“What?” Gwen blurts out, and I echo that sentiment. “You did that for us?”

My stomach turns. No, Gwen, he did that for you.

“So you haven’t worked with this former Interpol hacker since your death, then?” Carter follows up. “And would anyone at MI6 or anyone else at Interpol know you’re really alive?”

“No to all your questions.” He pauses before noting in an almost somber tone, “I’ve become adept at walking among the living without anyone seeing me.”

“Because of us,” Gwen murmurs.

“Because of you.” I’m unable to bite back the truth this time.

She zeros in on me, brows knitting, but I can’t handle looking at her. Not because I’m worried I’ll lose her—because I actually feel bad for Julian, and I don’t know what to make of that.

“We’re operating under the assumption they planted that video of Molly in London as bait for Gwen to try and draw out our team,” Carter shares what Julian may or may not already know. I’m losing track of who knows what at this point. “They’re presumably planning another attack they want to pin on us.”

“Yeah, Gwen told me about that,” Julian replies. “And they can’t do what they’re planning next, because Gwen won’t be leaving the safety of The Sapphire.” That sounded awfully order-like. “And if I have to come back to life and let them know they’re up against me, too, then so fucking be it.”

Here I am, willing to die for her, and he’s ready to come back to life. I reach for the handle of my coffee mug and curl my fingers tight around it as if that’ll help me get a grip.

Everyone’s eyes are on me now. I can feel them. Some are better at being discreet than others. But they’re all thinking the same thing that Gwen has to be realizing now, if she didn’t know before—Julian’s in deep for the woman I’m in deep for.

And here I am, unable to shake the fact that I feel sorry for the guy since he’s going to miss out on the greatest woman in the world. Because I will fight for her. I’m all in now, and have no plans to walk, run, or fucking fly away.

“I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be okay,” Gwen speaks up, breaking the eerie quiet. “Even if I have to leave this hotel.”

“Carter? Easton?” Julian prompts, like he’s asking for an assist here. “I take it you’ll have a come-to-Jesus moment with this woman before I develop an ulcer?”

“Absolutely,” I say gruffly, letting go of my mug while staring back at the woman who’s going to give me an ulcer. Looks like Julian and I are on the same page about her safety, too. And so help me, if I have to ask him to code a virus in her GPS app so all roads point back here, I’ll suck it up and do it. Anything to protect the woman we both care about.

“So, um, what are we doing now?” Mya’s words punch through some of the tension still going strong between me and this pain-in-the-ass woman I’m in love with.

I whip my eyes to my coffee mug and away from her when I realize what word just effortlessly catapulted through my mind.

Love.