by Dee, Cara
“You sure this is a guest room, Eric?” I spoke under my breath. “Guest rooms normally don’t have personal effects.”
“We’re not sure of much of anything,” Eric countered. “But we know the master bedroom is on the third floor. It’s where the wife sleeps.”
Perhaps they had a guest who visited frequently enough to make this their room. A family member, most likely. Because while we hadn’t found an heir or successor, Gio’s family was still huge. He had uncles and aunts, cousins and second cousins.
We knew too little about them.
Liam and I left the room soundlessly and made sure the coast was clear in the dimly lit corridor.
“Where’s the dro—never mind.” The drone flew past me just then, and it hovered outside the door we were supposed to enter.
Two sconces cast a faint glow on the gleaming floorboards and the dark red carpet that was as long as the entire hallway. And it was fucking long. There were six rooms on each side, including bathrooms.
“Hey,” Liam whispered.
I followed his gaze and got stuck on a big painting of Gio and his family.
What a pompous asshole. Unless you were royalty from the 1800s, don’t put yourself in an oil painting.
He stood in the middle, surrounded by a dozen or so family members.
I’d actually never met him. During the years Ennis had wanted to include his bastard son and bring him to family reunions, my parents had declined to participate. Most of the O’Sheas and Murrays had. And as far as I knew, Ennis had only managed to attend one single event with Gio in tow, and it’d been some christening in Chicago. Liam had been there. The twins hadn’t been born yet.
Gio shared some similarities with John. Growing guts and receding hairlines. Otherwise, good genes. The Murrays were a shade or two darker than the O’Sheas. We had more gingers in our family. Hell, I’d been one myself until my early teens and my hair turned darker. Emilia called it copper.
Gio’s eyes made him look sinister, though. John didn’t have that.
Fuck it. If John wasn’t already dead, he would be soon, and so would Gio.
Liam and I continued to what we hoped was Gio’s office, and I tested the handle—oh, thank God. Unlocked. If Liam would’ve needed to use his lock-picking kit here, I’d never have heard the end of it.
That proved something, though. Gio trusted everyone in this house, which was rare, to be honest. If not unheard of. Even I had a safe at my office—okay, it was currently at a safe house, but nonetheless. There would always be shit I didn’t want Emilia to see, and some of it wouldn’t fit inside a safe.
Liam closed the door behind us once we were inside, and it was indeed Gio’s office.
“Is it safe to use a flashlight, Sullivan?” I asked.
“Yes, boss.”
Good.
I nodded at Liam, and he took out his phone. He could assist Eric with the light so the drone could film the room; I was gonna start digging through Gio’s desk.
I’d expected a nicer office. The entire villa had the whole rural Italian vibe going on, but his office was on the small side. No seating area or even a couple chairs in front of the desk. And that spoke volumes too. He didn’t conduct any meetings in here. This space was for him and him alone.
Rounding the heavy oak desk, I gave the room a sweeping look, noticing more pictures on the walls. I was looking forward to studying them from Eric’s footage later. For now, I began opening drawers.
I took pictures of everything, important or not. It wasn’t like I had a lot of time to see what it was I came across.
“Holy fuck,” I heard Liam breathe. “Oi, Finn.”
I furrowed my brow and lifted my gaze—and got stuck. Jesus fucking Christ. There was a picture of Emilia on the wall. Wait, no. There were several. From when she was a baby, a toddler, then, I guessed, first grade, second grade, all the way up to high school.
“None of this gets back to her,” I said firmly, quietly. It was only a matter of time before I had to tell her everything—emphasis on I. She would hear it from me, no one else.
This was fucking bizarre. I went through files and notes on autopilot for a while. My mind stayed on the pictures. My wife was this fucker’s wife’s kid that she’d had with some other man. Why on earth would Gio have pictures of her in his private office?
More questions arose.
Elena kept track of her daughter. Did she know what a scumbag Jonathan had turned into? Did she know he was dead now?
Holy shite, did they somehow know it was gonna be Emilia when she was stopped outside the compound?
They couldn’t. There was no way. She’d taken off in my car on a whim. That said, they must’ve known of her. They must’ve recognized the girl they’d pulled over. Yet, they didn’t indicate anything of her relation to the Italians.
Was she still a card none of us knew how to play?
I’d folded my hand. I would never use her as leverage, but the idea had been there at one point. Before I fucked myself over and fell in love with her.
“I have everything in here,” Eric announced quietly in my ear. “Liam, let the drone out. I’ll get some more footage from the rest of the house. Don’t take too long.”
Liam and I continued documenting everything we found, and the safe wasn’t difficult to open. I’d been right; it was a combination lock. More than that, it was an old Master Lock, and a rookie could open those. The trick was to apply pressure to the shackle, pushing it upward as if to open it, then turn the first dial until there was a tiny snick. This simple technique reduced the 64,000 possible combinations to a hundred, after which there was a convenient app to reduce it to a final eight.
There was a reason no one used these anymore.
I remembered when the technique had been made public. The stock had plummeted.
I took it as good news. And proof of Gio’s arrogance. He thought his house was safe. He believed he was protected in Italy.
My fingers itched every time I saw something I wanted to study further. We saw notes, dates, digits, addresses—fucking everything. We took hundreds of pictures, and for the first time in months, I felt hopeful. It wouldn’t take too long to shut Gio down. These images had to give us something. We didn’t even need concrete evidence or everything spelled out. Just a handful of decent clues.
“Time for rounds, fellas,” Sullivan told us.
We killed the light and walked over to the wall next to the window.
Moments later, the beam from a flashlight flickered between the thick curtains.
“How did you get the info on Emilia?” Liam whispered. “What channels did ye use?”
“Pop helped me from Ireland,” I replied, keeping my voice down. “I was in prison. I know he cashed in a couple favors with a guy at Interpol.”
Liam hummed. “You reckon you got more than public records?”
I nodded. “Some—not a lot. They’re a secretive family.” Which was understandable. “I wasn’t looking for Emilia, though. I was looking for a successor to Gio. I wanted to know if we’d face any threats in the near future.” Frankly, I’d been searching for a son.
“And only Emilia turned up,” Liam concluded. I nodded. “I wonder if we should expand that search, ’cause there’s another kid on the wall over there. Well, I guess he’s grown up now, but the same types of pictures. From childhood to school pictures.”
I frowned and became impatient to leave. I wanted to go through every goddamn picture from here.
“All clear again,” Sullivan declared. “One on the terrace, one at the front door—right, Kellan?”
“Aye.” That was Kellan, and he was panting. Had he been running? “Fucker almost spotted me.”
“Three dogs asleep outside,” Sullivan added.
“One downstairs,” Eric filled in. “I’m ready when you are, boys. Coming upstairs again. We should leave soon.”
We were almost done anyway.
I grunted as I pulled Liam up on the wall. His hands we
re dirty as fuck after having smoothed out the soil below, and we weren’t done. There was his last set of tracks we had to get rid of.
Once Liam was over and landing on the other side, I whispered to Kellan. “Oi. Got somethin’ edible on you? We gotta cover the last tracks.”
He furrowed his brow. “Uh, I have a chocolate bar…?”
“Don’t just stand there, then. Fork it over.” I huffed a breath. The pain in my leg was becoming unbearable, and I wanted to get down from the goddamn wall. “I’ll drop it below. The dogs will find it tomorrow and cover the footprints.” I hoped. It made sense in my head.
Kellan reached up, and I took the candy bar from him.
“Dogs shouldn’t eat chocolate, mate.”
“Does it look like I give a fuck?” I tore the bar into smaller chunks and threw them down where I could see Liam’s footprints.
“That’s what I call creative thinking,” Liam chuckled. “Good job.”
Eh, it would have to do.
I swung my legs down the wall and jumped the last bit, only to be assaulted by a cannonball of pain shooting up my leg. Sweet mother of Christ, I needed a break. And a drink.
Sullivan returned with his gear. “I’m a little sad I didn’t get to see any action.”
I wasn’t. I was just hurtin’.
I pocketed the candy wrapper and nodded toward the forest. “Let’s get the hell outta here.”
Eric’s drone led the way through the woods to where he and Pat were waiting, and no one wanted that to be the end of it more than me. But we still had to pack up his shit and return to the cars.
No rest for the wicked.
I’d called Emilia on the way back to our villa, and by the time we pulled up outside, she and the others were waiting in the driveway.
“I’m so glad you’re okay, baby.” She had a sleepy Autumn leaning against her, so I had to settle for a quick kiss. “The house is empty. We’re ready to go.”
“I love you.” I touched her cheek and glanced at the door.
“Seriously, it’s spotless in there,” Emilia chuckled. “Luna and I cleaned everything with bleach, and we left some garbage bags in the SUV to get rid of on the way.”
How had I gotten so motherfucking blessed? “Thank you, princess.” I turned to Luna. “You too, hon.”
Luna smiled and nodded with a dip of her chin.
All the girls were dressed for comfort, yoga pants and hoodies, so they were really ready to hit the road.
Eric came up to me, at the same time as Colm approached, presumably to give me a report of everything that’d happened while we were gone.
“Can you guys take Autumn until we stop the first time?” Eric asked quietly. “I gotta take a detour to get rid of some of the equipment I won’t need in the UK.”
I nodded. “Of course.” I turned to Autumn and Emilia. “You okay with that, blue eyes? You’ll ride with me and Emilia, and you’ll get the back seat all to yourself.”
She yawned and flung herself at me dramatically. “Okay, but you put me in the car. I’m dead, Finn. Dead!”
I laughed softly and picked her up, positioning her on my hip. Fuck, wrong leg to put extra weight on.
While I headed out to the street where “my” SUV was parked, I listened to Colm’s report. Everything had gone fine here, as I’d assumed, and he told me he’d gone through the house when the girls were done. It was all good. Shit looked exactly as it did when we first got here.
Emilia trailed after with a duvet and two pillows for Autumn, as well as her backpack.
There were fifteen of us and three cars, one of which seated seven. It was gonna be an uncomfortable fit, and I wasn’t in the mood to share at the moment. Autumn was fine. No more. I needed some time alone with the princess.
“All right, let’s head out,” I said and closed the door to Autumn’s new sleeping quarters. “You can rent new cars and spread out a bit once you’re outta the country. We’ll meet up for dinner in Lyon tomorrow. Questions? Please don’t have any questions.”
Chuckles all around and, thank fuck, no questions.
Arrivederci, Italia. Or whatthefuckever.
11
Three months later
Finnegan O’Shea
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I laughed and swiveled my chair to face him better.
“No, you’ll see it up here.” Eric rose from his seat and pointed at the top left screen. “That, right there? He’s reaching for his knife.”
I snorted and studied the grainy footage from the surveillance tapes Eric had gotten his hands on from his latest assignment. “Well, you know what they say. Don’t bring a knife to a gunfight.”
I shook my head in amusement.
As bored as we were becoming, it’d been fun doing recon work on Gio’s operations around Europe. We’d had to be creative to make sure he didn’t suspect it was us, so we’d posed as everything from repairmen to local security firms. Everything we did was about mapping out their warehouses and other locations.
Most of the businesses Gio owned were either too dangerous or too small. Although we wanted our revenge, we had an entire syndicate to make happy while we were at a standstill. So everything we did had to have a substantial payout for us, at the same time as we couldn’t risk exposure. For instance, we wouldn’t go near his dealings in trafficking. He worked with international networks that had too much money and too many replaceable goons. And we had no interest in his illegal fighting operation. I was sure it brought him some good money, but most of all, that was how Gio networked with the underworld.
No, what I had my eyes on were three things—his warehouse in Barcelona where we suspected he kept most of the cars he sold to oil money in the Middle East; his club in Amsterdam where he ran his smuggling of coke and diamonds; and, lastly, his residence in northern Germany. If the information we’d found was correct, and there was a lot of it, his estate in Germany was where he kept his private collection of concept cars.
A knock on the door of my office ended the work talk.
“Yeah?” I wheeled out my chair a bit and stretched my bad leg. I got a numb tingle in my thigh if I didn’t move around often. Otherwise, I was pretty much healed.
Emilia poked her head in with a smile. “Got a text from your dad. He’ll be here with the twins soon.”
“Cool. Thanks, princess.” It was time to wrap up here anyway.
“Oh, by the way,” Emilia said, “did you find a doctor I could see?”
Yeah, no. “Shite, I’m sorry. I forgot. I’ll do it tomorrow.” I wouldn’t do it tomorrow. I should be able to draw this out a month or so. We were about to get busy again.
“Okay.” Emilia blew me a kiss before closing the door.
Things were good. Almost too good.
For being in hiding, we’d finally found a semblance of normalcy in London that made us feel at home. The wife and I shared a nice flat in Bayswater with Eric and Autumn, where Emilia and I had our own bedroom with a view of Hyde Park. Eric and Autumn shared the other bedroom, but it was decorated to keep a tomboy with princess tendencies happy. Eric spent most of his time in the office, regardless.
Liam, Pat, Sarah, Colm, Conn, and Luna lived in the flat below ours, and Kellan bragged about his own private studio apartment on the second floor. The other guys were scattered around the same area, Notting Hill, Bayswater, and Lancaster Gate.
We could blend in here. We had Sons associates in London. There were minor gigs to bring in cash. We could go to church. Autumn attended correspondence school and took a ballet class every Thursday, where she’d made a couple friends.
My wife was thriving, too. She’d spent the summer and fall all but trapped, and now she could go outside. Never alone, granted, but she liked Colm and Conn, and it was mutual. They drove her and the girls places and chaperoned them to the park and various appointments.
Now, she wanted a fucking doctor…
I couldn’t blame her, I guess. She found it weird that she was suddenly spo
tting or whatever she’d called it.
Yeah, really weird.
Christmas music and something that smelled delicious greeted Eric and me when we left the office. Down the hall, we found Emilia preparing the coffee table in the living room with sodas, cold beers, and snacks.
My heart squeezed at the sight of her.
Christmas was only a couple weeks away. She hadn’t complained a single fucking time about…anything, really. She handled it all with grace—being away from home, the extra security, the restrictions on what she was allowed to do…
I used to say I’d have to step up my game if I ever wanted to deserve her, but considering…everything, I knew I never would. My feelings for that woman terrified me every day.
Could I even breathe without her?
Jesus Christ, I could’ve ended up with someone like Sarah. She’d withdrawn from everyone, the girls too, to an extent, and she spent her days reading, online shopping, and whatever else. Meanwhile, I was here with Emilia in a winter wonderland. We had a decorated tree, Santa Claus knickknacks, snow globes, advent calendars, and presents piling up under the tree.
“Come here.” I contradicted myself by striding over to her and drawing her into my arms. She smiled curiously as I cupped her cheeks. “You’re bloody amazing. You know that?”
“So are you.” She grinned before puckering her lips.
I kissed them softly, once, twice, three times. “I mean it,” I murmured. “You’re everything to me.” I didn’t want her to think something was wrong, or for her to see the guilt in me, so I changed the subject before she could start digging. “Anything I can do?”
“Yes, please.” She hopped up and kissed me once more. “You can take down the air beds from the shelf in our closet.”
Right. My li’l wifey couldn’t reach. “You got it.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead, then headed down the hall again. The office and a bathroom were on one side, then the two bedrooms on the other.