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I’d attended the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst with him, Mag, and Poseidon, who stood studying me. We’d continued on to Fort Monckton together, where we’d completed SIS training. What I was about to say would come as no surprise to them. However, I still leaned in and spoke in a hushed tone. “I want to share the news with Bexli.”
Poseidon nodded. “I’m sure you’ll be able to break away once Marchand leaves.”
“Where is she, anyway?” Zep asked.
“Milan. She’s been there since September.”
“That’s right,” said Magnet. “Some fancy modeling gig, right?”
Like my desire to one day be chief of MI6, Bexli’s dream had been to walk the runways of the largest fashion houses in the world. She certainly had the beauty and body to do it. She was tall, thin, and graceful, with thick, rich auburn hair and eyes the color of the Himalayan blue poppies that grew in our gardens. God, I missed her.
“Do you think anyone will notice if I excuse myself?” I asked Poseidon.
He squeezed my shoulder and chuckled. “Baissier is approaching, then you may.”
“Welcome aboard, gentlemen,” the ambassador said, shaking each of our hands. His expression quickly sobered. “The mandate you and the rest of the coalition members have been given by the United Nations is a monumental undertaking. However, there are no others I trust more to lead the fight against human trafficking than those assembled here this morning.”
After thanking him and seeing him to the door, I raced up the staircase and placed my call. My disappointment was profound when it went straight to voicemail.
I sat on the bed and pulled up the last photo Bexli had sent me. Her smile was intoxicating, and the excitement she felt capturing it shined in her eyes.
“The elusive Lorenzo Moretti,” the accompanying message read. Her head was tilted in the direction of the man who stood a few paces behind her, speaking with another woman.
Moretti was the man who’d “discovered” Bex and offered her the opportunity to walk the runways in Milan. My gut tightened, wondering if she was with him now. If he was the reason why each time I rang, my calls went directly to voicemail. Was she sleeping with him? Worse, did she love him?
She’d scoff at my jealousy. As much as I wished it were different, we were best friends, not lovers. We never had been. The first time I’d tried to take our relationship in another direction, Bexli let me down as easily as she could, but I’d still been devastated. “You’re my only true friend,” she’d said. “Let’s not ruin it.”
I’d tried once more, a couple of years later, when she and I spent a month alone together at our family’s estate on a private island in the Caymans. After a night of consuming copious amounts of spiced rum, I’d attempted a seduction that failed miserably. My cheeks heated, thinking about how awkwardly it had gone. However, like before, Bexli had been as sweet as she could, teasing me until we could both laugh about it. It stung, then and now, but I took comfort in the fact I hadn’t destroyed the relationship we did have.
Bexli had nicknamed me Cayman shortly after we returned from our island adventure, and it had stuck enough that when it came time for me to be given my MI6 code name, it was what I used.
I looked at the photo she’d sent once more.Bloody hell.Had it really been six weeks since I’d received it? Six weeks since she’d responded to the texts I wrote or to my calls?
While pride should prevent me from reaching out again, I told myself this would be my last effort. If she didn’t respond, I wouldn’t send another.
Fantastic news to share. Ring me back!I sent the message, then returned downstairs to join the celebration I had no doubt was taking place.
Tomorrow, we’d renew our efforts in ridding the world of human traffickers, but for one day, we’d celebrate our recent successes.
In separate raids, taking place in the same twenty-four-hour period, we’d taken out two major trafficking crime rings, one in Lesovo, Bulgaria, and the other in Edirne, Turkey.
Over sixteen hundred people were rescued that day, and countless arrests were made. It was sobering to think we hadn’t scratched the surface of either the number of victims in the world or of the vile people who exploited them.
I reached the bottom of the stairs at the same time Nemesis and Ares came in the front door after walking the ambassador to his vehicle.
“This is odd,” said Nem, looking at something on her mobile.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“I’ve just received Marchand’s brief. I thought he said I wouldn’t get it until he arrived in New York.”
“I can review it if you’d like,” I offered. Truthfully, being unable to share my news with Bexli, I was in no mood to celebrate.
“No,” Nemesis murmured as she continued studying her mobile’s screen. “This is too important.”
Ares and I followed her into the main room.
“Everyone, I’m terribly sorry to interrupt and call our party short; however, I’ve just received a briefing on Mithras.”
