AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I look sharply at him. “What?”
“So you two were responsible for the theft," he says. "I suspected that."
"Do you think this attack was related?" Nicolette asks.
"No, but it's something we’ll have to look into."
He looks sharply at me. "How much does she know?"
"Well, asking that question makes me realize there's probably quite a bit I don't know," Nicolette says. She looks out the window. "But I'm only here for a short time so I guess it doesn't matter.”
"She knows we're Corsican mafia. She knows we have friends and enemies, and that Napoleon’s talisman is coming to The Underground." I pause, letting the importance of my words shine through. I don't need to give him details, especially involving our cousins. “She knows that in exchange for information from Milo, we will be giving him something from your company. I have not told her what you do for work, that's up to you."
He looks from me to her. "How long is she working with you?"
Forever. She thinks that I'll let her go when our time is up. I do fully intend on paying her. I am a man of my word, and I always do what I say I will. But there is no way I am going to let her go after this.
No matter what. I'm on what I have to do. No matter what the stakes are.
“For the weekend,” she answers when I don’t, giving me a curious look.
I look away. Thayer looks from me to her then back again.
The plane cruises along, and from where we sit, I can hear the pilot calling in our fake landing.
There’s no point in hiding anything from her. I don’t want to live a life of lies any more. I want truth and authenticity. Transparency.
“Thayer’s in charge of a group similar to Corsica, but with higher stakes.”
She gives me and him a curious look, then brings her gaze back to me again.
“How so?”
“I run a group of masters,” he begins, looking for recognition on her face. “Masters who take slaves.”
“Slaves?” she says with a nod. “Like… The Underground?”
“Consensual slaves, yes,” I supply. “And yes, like The Underground. It isn’t what you think.”
Her brows rise as she looks over at me. “And what is it that you think I think? Have you forgotten where we met? Have you forgotten that I may have already had experiences that you may or may not be privy to? Unless,” she says, with a pause before she continues, “you lied to us about video footage in the rooms.”
“Of course I didn’t.”
“Good.”
We look away from each other. Thayer taps his knee with his knuckles, humming under his breath. She’s on edge, and half of me doesn’t blame her but the other half wants to take this woman to heel.
If she’s that worried about privacy, though… what would she do if she found out I was watching her? Looking into her past? Finding out everything I could about her?
What would she do if she knew what I’ve done to make sure she doesn’t ever run from me?
Would she run?
If she did, I would catch her.
Nicolette’s mine now, and I won’t ever let her go.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Nicolette
I’m spinning everything in my head. We’re minutes out from landing in Corsica when the call comes in on Fabien’s phone.
I’m not sure what kind of witchery he did to be able to actually receive calls in the air, but he seems to be able to perform magic tricks, so I don’t question him.
Thayer looks at him sharply, as he relays the information.
“Suspects apprehended at the airport. Our plan worked.” I try to put this all together.
Someone wants to hurt him—or, maybe more accurately… us? I don’t know if I’m special enough to warrant the attention of anyone else, but stranger things have happened since Fabien came into my life.
The person, or people, or whatever, who want to hurt him potentially sabotaged our plane to Paris, then perhaps the same people sent an armored car to attack us on our way back. Interesting that they didn’t try anything at his family home.
Looks like his men have possibly caught the suspects… if that’s what they call them? This all feels so foreign to me.
I don’t want to think about what might happen next.
“Have you sent a team to Corsica?” Thayer asks.
Fabien gives him a withering look. “Of course I did. They’re prepared.”
“Why would they attack at the airport and not at your home?” I ask.
“Lots of reasons,” Fabien says. “They want to have plausible deniability if questioned. Easier getaway on a plane. Nothing as personal as a family home.” He rolls his eyes. “Dramatic effect.”
The ease with which he answers me is a bit unnerving. He didn’t have to think about it.
Whoever tried to kill us thinks just like him.
That knowledge makes me more than a little uneasy.
