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“Are the shoes to your satisfaction, ma’am?” the tailor asked patiently. Clearly it wasn’t the first time he’d asked that question.
They were leather, polished to a mirror-like reflection, each pair of Louboutin and Dior shoes slightly different and perfectly suited to my guys’ roles. I inclined my head and waited for them to be presented to my guys.
“Very good,” he murmured as they completed their outfits.
“Perfect.” I smiled and added with a wave of my hand in their direction, “I’ll take everything.”
He bowed, and our butler murmured in a quiet, unobtrusive voice, “I will have your gown, the tuxedos, and all your shoes boxed and added to your checked luggage, madame. Your driver will take care of it when you land in Nice and safely deliver you to the Villa La Vigie.”
“Thank you.” I didn’t need to dismiss them. They melted into the woodwork, trained to never be seen unless they were needed. I couldn’t help but think they were the fairy godmothers of the rich and famous.
Another seven hours and we were in a Lincoln Continental SUV, being whisked to one of the most exclusive villas in Monte Carlo. My head was on a swivel, and excitement bubbled in my veins as the gates to the sprawling estate parted and the driver inched forward along the manicured drive. The stately mansion was perched gracefully atop the peak of the Pointe de la Veille, the grounds lit by strategically placed spotlights highlighting the magnificence of the stone building.
Darkness surrounded us, glimpses of the city lights teasing us every time we rounded a sweeping bend in the drive. I reached for Ezra’s hand, squeezing it as I squirmed in my seat and bounced on my toes, trying to peek between the lush forest leading to the crest of the point.
“Wow,” Flynn murmured from his spot, cuddled up to Tristan in the middle row.
I shot my gaze right and gasped, the flash of the view such a tease. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared, darkness enveloping us once more.
“It’s going to be so beautiful,” I breathed.
Our driver pulled up at the base of a stone staircase leading to double glass doors. He got out and came around to open our doors. The sweet scent of roses and night jasmine permeated the air, and I spied the source immediately. A pink climbing rose grew along the trellis, resplendent against the limestone walls.
“This way, please,” our driver beckoned, gesturing up the stairs, then waited for us to ascend before he followed. “The view is magnifique.”
A patio stretched out before us, lined in terracotta with a stone railing. Lounge furniture was placed in the middle, and although it was tempting to flop down onto them and never move again, the view drew me to the edge of the low railing.
God, I was living in a dream.
The villa overlooked the entire coastline of the Baie de Roquebrune. The water was lit by the moon’s silver glow and the lights from the superyachts moored in the bay. The city hugged the coastline. Centuries-old sandstone buildings were lit from below, casting a warm glow over their facades. Modern high rises towered above the stately old buildings, their windows reflecting the light and multiplying it. It was as if we were standing on a carpet of stars glittering in the night sky. It was simply spectacular.
Just like the darkened waters on our left, the shadow of the mountains to our right soared above us. The city was perched on a sliver of land cradled gently between nature’s arms.
The view was breathtaking at night. I couldn’t wait to see it during the day.
I breathed in the briny air mixed with rose, jasmine, and hints of the pine forest below and reached for my guys. They flanked me, Ezra to my left, Flynn to my right, and Tristan next to him. Joined hands rested at the small of my back, and I leaned my head on Flynn’s shoulder, still taking in the sheer magnificence of the view. This moment, the quiet contemplation, would be etched into my memory for a lifetime.
Ry joined us on the patio, resting his elbows on the railing, and my night was perfect. This was how I wanted to remember Monte Carlo—the five of us together, watching the waves lap against the shoreline and the twinkling lights below us.
“Pretty fucking impressive isn’t it,” Ry murmured, voicing my thoughts to a tee.
“Pardon me, madame,” our driver interrupted, his head bowed in apology. “The staff have prepared a light meal for you in case you are hungry. Your luggage has been deposited into the two bedrooms requested, and your vehicle is ready in the garage.”
“Thanks, Marco,” Ry responded, reaching out to shake his hand. “Appreciate it.”
Marco inclined his head and strode away.
“Are we gonna scope out the casino tonight?” Flynn asked, sliding right into his spy role. I snorted out a laugh and he elbowed me playfully. “Hey, you won’t let me get dressed up. At least let me pretend to be in on it.
I furrowed my brow, my mouth open and horror in my tone as I grasped his arm. “Is that what you think? That I don’t want you involved?” I shook my head, hating that he wouldn’t meet my gaze. “It’s not that at all. Flynn, I want you in the car because you’re the best person to watch the live feed. You have an eye for faces. You’ll recognize Moragreiga the moment you see him. You’ll be able to tell us exactly who he is if we don’t spot him. Sure, Tristan could run the recording, and Ry is the best driver out of all of us. But you’ll spot our target from a mile away and direct us straight to him. This whole trip will be for nothing if we don’t have the right person.”
He raised his gaze to my own, and the gratitude there stole my breath. “Okay.” He nodded and gave me a tentative smile. “I can do that.”
Tristan rested his hands on Flynn’s shoulders and massaged them before dropping a kiss to his hair.
“We should eat, then try to get a few hours’ sleep,” Ry suggested. “We have a lot of logistics to nut out and a lot to prepare before tomorrow night.”
“Do you know what car we have?” Ezra asked him. “I’m glad we won’t be relying on a taxi or rideshare to get us out of there, but I’d rather not be trying to squeeze into something tiny either.”
