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I raised a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Not sure what else there is to say. What were you hoping for? We went to Germany. She did a photoshoot. We both did our jobs and came home.” I yawned, not having to fake my tiredness. I needed to move this along if I was going to sneak over to Lessia’s in time to find out if my suspicions were true. “Do you mind if we postpone the inquisition until tomorrow? Preferably after I’ve slept eight hours and had at least a pot of coffee?”
Keene didn’t look happy but nodded reluctantly. “I had my assistant do an express order to replace the coffee beans Lessia took, so at least we’ll enjoy some decent coffee tomorrow.” His phone chimed, and he brightened as he read the screen. “And Lessia just texted me with the password to my Netflix account, so I’ll be catching up on the couch for a bit.”
Glad to have the distraction, I ducked into the guesthouse, taking time to change clothes before quietly making my way down the driveway. Skirting motioned-activating lights on Keene’s property, I made sure I passed undetected by Keene before stopping on the street to evaluate my route options. Taking off in a jog, I hoped fervently that I appeared non-threatening and somewhat normal in the upscale neighborhood. The last thing I needed was to be stopped by the police because of an overly imaginative and worried neighbor.
When I got to Alessia’s street, I glanced down the road to see if there was any activity but saw nothing out of place. I continued to the next street, scanning the area to make sure no one was around as I jogged. Dusk had set, but it wasn’t truly dark yet. When I came up to the house adjacent to Lessia’s, I didn’t hesitate, turning into the thick brush lining the edge of their property. Thankful for the cover, I paused and settled into a thick hedge. Waiting for over ten minutes, I let the darkness deepen before inching my way down the side of the large lawn, keeping to the shadows as I made my way closer to Alessia’s yard, intending to cross into her property in the back. A large stone fence stopped me short. I should have realized she’d have some deterrent in the back as well as out front. After careful evaluation, I noted the security was tight. Sensors were placed along the stone wall, and cameras seemed to miss little of the yard. Even if I could get past the sensors, there was no place to hide on her side of the property. Clearly, someone did regular maintenance, keeping the trees trimmed well off the ground, and the hedges dotting the beds below were small and sparse. And while the flowers that flowed around the yard were beautiful, they did little to conceal anything.
I could barely make it into a position that afforded me a look into the back of the house while still giving me a view of the driveway before I was forced to stop, unable to go any farther without standing out like the stalker I was trying desperately to convince myself I wasn’t. Fortunately, I didn’t wait for more than thirty minutes out of the hour I gave myself when a man came up from the other side of the yard, not hesitating to step across the lawn and up the patio to the back door. He knocked softly, and regardless of the fact that there hadn’t been a single light on in the house to reveal anyone was awake inside, the door opened within seconds. The figure looked around before stepping inside. The moonlight was barely enough to prove I was right, but it was enough. Matteo had snuck into Alessia’s yard—and she was waiting for him.
I was just about to break position when movement caught my eye. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as I watched a shadow break off from the bushes lining the neighbor’s yard directly next to Alessia’s. It retreated away from the house and, unfortunately, headed directly away from me, making it impossible to see who it was. Whoever they were, they were definitely proof that the Accardi brothers had been right in thinking she needed round-the-clock protection. No matter what Alessia thought, she wasn’t as safe as she believed she was.
Chapter 19
Alessia
Mybodybeggedforsleep, but unfortunately, I had a job to finish. After letting Matteo in, we retreated to my hidden basement. I let him snag my computer to upload the drive D.M. had given me while I drew the layout of Karl Albrecht’s estate, adding as much detail as I could remember to the margins about steps from windows of egress to hidden camera spots in corners of the rooms, possible hidden doors, and my pick for what was most likely the concealed entrance to the dungeon we knew he had hidden. One of the countless tapestries I’d pretended to admire was the perfect size to hide a door and placed in what had once been a stairwell, according to the only plans of the castle we could find—which were originally dated from the late eighteen eighties. Not very helpful when talking about a castle that was likely built in the thirteen hundreds and had multiple updates over its long lifetime, but at least it was a starting point.
It took a few hours to get everything recorded, scanned, and sent to my handler. Matteo had struggled to decode the flash drive, then had to run the entire thing through a program to translate it from Russian into English.
He sat back as he waited for the final translation program to run and stared at me. His intense scrutiny made me want to squirm, so I frowned at him. “What?” I asked, irritated instantly. Jet lagged, tired, and running on empty in the caffeine department since he wouldn’t let me brew another pot, I felt justified in my crankiness.
“Have you thought any more about what you want to do?”
His careful tone put me on edge. I wasn’t sure what his agenda was, but I knew with certainty he had one. Matteo always had an opinion, and his blank tone and expression let me know he was treading carefully, analyzing my every move instead of focusing on his thoughts and feelings. My answer was important to him.
“Have you?” I replied, half flippant and half serious. I wasn’t exactly sure what to say. Of course, I’d been thinking about it. I had done little else for days but had come no closer to a decision. No way would I work without him, and I knew he felt the same way. We were flip sides to a coin, he and I, and I didn’t feel right leaving him behind or dragging him with me in my decision-making. It wasn’t like I could hand Gideon my résumé—a real one, anyway. And Matteo hadn’t given me any sign that he wanted to step away from what we had been doing.
“Sure. To be honest, I’ve been thinking about it for years now, but the timing wasn’t right.”
I stilled, surprised. “Been thinking about what? And what timing?”
He raised an eyebrow. “What to do after this?” Waving his hand around the room, he continued, “Having an actual life, with people who know us and who we can be ourselves with. Hell, my interaction with your family today was the first authentic time I’ve had with them—or anyone else, really, since we were partnered up eight years ago. It’s not like we can risk exposing our actual careers to a civilian, and lying to someone isn’t the best ground to start a relationship on.”
Biting my lip, I fought back the wave of guilt that hit me. He and I had been together so long, been doing this double life for so long that I hadn’t thought about whether he was truly happy with his life. I assumed that if he were tired of what the job required, he would share it with me, and he’d never given me a reason to think otherwise. But unlike me, his job was fully hidden. His work required no travel, almost no physical meetings, and little risk of discovery. On the flip side, his hours were more varied and immediate, and an emergency was literally life-or-death. As much as I claimed not to have time for a social life outside of the one work required, his situation was even worse. And he was several years older than I was, with two tours under his belt before I had been old enough even to vote. No wonder he’d thought about changing his circumstances.
“If I were to retire, resign, or whatever, from what I do now—or at least the way I go about it—would you stay with what you do, or would you move on?” I couldn’t help but ask.
He considered my question. “You’re not the only agent I’m in charge of, just the one I’m most involved with. Part of that was due to your age when you were recruited. Part is because of your family, and the other is because of how visible you are. You know, you are, by far, the most public asset we have. Your modeling career puts your face everywhere, and your last name puts those we watch on edge just because of your proximity to your brother’s company. I have to be close enough to you to have easy access to you because of that. The other agents I work with might see me once or twice a year.”
I nodded, knowing that what he said was true. His placement in my life—and mine in his—was a non-negotiable point that happened as soon as I signed on the dotted line when I was eighteen.
Leaning back, he folded his hands over his taut stomach. “No, to answer your question, I don’t plan on stopping what I do.”
“But what you do will change dramatically if we’re just friends instead of partners,” I finished for him. Without having to maintain my cover, his personal life would change significantly. All the components would stay the same, but his free time would truly be his own, not spending time shoring up my cover here at home or quadruple-checking backup plans for my backup plans. I had to be honest; most of his critical or emergency situations came from me. Between my fame and my proficiency in creating chaos, I probably racked up more problems in a year than his other agents had in their entire careers combined.
He hesitated, then nodded, not able to deny the facts. Being partners was holding him back from having his own life. My gut clenched. How had I not realized how selfish I’d been?
“Stop it right there.” Leaning forward in his chair, he continued, “You’re not responsible for my life. And even if you were, I wouldn’t change it for anything. Think of all the good you and I have done for the world. The countless lives we’ve saved. And those who will never know what would have happened to them had we not cut out the cancer. Your position allows you to access people, places, and information that others don’t. But you can’t do the work indefinitely.”
It was my turn to hesitate. The longer I was in the game, the higher my risk of discovery was. I was already several years past the average retirement age for most models, too. At some point, everything was going to start crumbling. “I feel like things are changing, whether I want them to or not.”
He nodded, obviously feeling it as well. Today was proof of that. Matteo had been in my life for years and had never once taken up an invitation to visit with my family. His coming over was more surprising to me than my breakdown with my brothers that morning—and I hadn’t cried since my mother died. “But change isn’t always bad. As agents, they train us to hate change because variables are what get you killed, but human nature itself demands change. Maybe we’re overdue.”
A chime from the computer put a stop to our conversation. I turned around to see what the translation software kicked out as he whistled. “What do we have?” I squinted at the computer to read the swirling text, so tired that the words refused to stay still.
A name on the screen caught my attention, waking me up in a heartbeat. I stilled, rereading the document in front of me to make sure I wasn’t making things up in my delirium. “Am I reading this right?”
He nodded, and I didn’t have to see his face to know his grim expression matched my own. I blew out a breath as he reached for the desk phone and hit the button to secure the line. My plans for a bed and sleep had just gone out the window.
