Risky Temptation

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Risky Temptation Page 13

by Hart, Gemma


  And what did Tobias mean, ‘take care of him’? Kill him? He was going to kill the man whom he had ordered into a dangerous mission just for his own benefits?

  He couldn’t possibly think he could ever win my heart this way, did he?

  My heart started racing.

  I could not get on that plane.

  The moment I got on that plane, all would be lost. Marco didn’t even know where I was in London. How the hell could he find me across the globe?

  I started looking around the room as well. Frantic and searching, I tried to find anything that might help me escape. But there was nothing. If I hadn’t found it in the last couple weeks, there was nothing that would magically appear now.

  “Let me go,” I said again, my voice louder. I tried to jerk my arms away from him but Tobias held on.

  I could see his arms taut, his muscles defined and lean against his crisp black shirt.

  He looked down at me. “No,” he said simply.

  I shook my head. “Let me go,” I said again, pulling in earnest now. “I will not get on any plane with you. Not now, not ever.”

  Tobias looked at me with a look that was almost akin to patience. “It’s hard to understand it now but you will,” he said, completely deaf to everything I was saying. “Once you have some distance, you’ll understand what I’m saying.”

  Should I scream? But what good would that do? The only people that would hear me where Black Saints men.

  I thought about the small secret in my back pocket. Was this the moment to bring it out? My brain raced through scenarios but I couldn’t imagine how I could utilize my little weapon to win my freedom. At least, not just yet.

  Suddenly I had a horrifying vision flash across my mind. I imagined being separated from Marco for not just weeks but for years. I imagined being imprisoned in cold expensive homes with a man who was ready to force his love on me.

  And would Tobias even tell Marco where I was? Of course not. Marco would keep searching for me, never relenting, but always a step behind the Enforcer of the Black Saints.

  “No,” I said, not realizing I was speaking aloud. “No, I won’t go.”

  But Tobias didn’t hear me. Instead he had his head cocked towards the sitting room doors which he had left wide open in his hurry to whisk me away.

  We both looked out towards the hall where at the far end the gold elevator faced us.

  Was he waiting for someone?

  And then I heard it too. I heard something that sounded like furniture being toppled. It sounded like an elephant was walking through a china shop. Muffled echoes of things being broken and stamped on rose even up to the sixth floor.

  But I knew that wasn’t what had cocked Tobias’s ear. Because it certainly wasn’t what had cocked mine.

  It was the grunts.

  There were pained grunts and shouts. I could barely make them out but I heard them.

  With Tobias still gripping my arms, we listened to the sounds of some kind of large brawl going on below us. Was this my chance? Was some kind of mutiny happening?

  It seemed unreal.

  And then suddenly, we realized together that the sounds were getting closer. I could hear the sounds of men shouting and crying out in pain much more

  clearly. And on top of that, I could hear the soft, echoing snaps of bullets fired through a silencer. Someone was literally fighting their way up, floor by floor.

  My heart stopped in my throat.

  No. Could it? Could it possibly be?

  I didn’t want to let my heart dare but it was already flooding itself with hope.

  There was a distinct sound of a man screaming, “FUCK!” in surprise below us. I heard another man cry out, “Christ!” before he groaned in sharp agony.

  My throat tightened and I felt my eyes well up with forbidden hope.

  Oh god, please…He doesn’t know where I am…How could He? But even still…please let it be….

  Then, as we both looked down the hallway towards the elevator, the shiny doors opened up. And from it, stepped out Marco Desmond.

  He was covered in sprays of blood. His lip was busted and bleeding and his knuckles were raw and bloody. He held a bloody gun in his hand, the metal of it nearly drenched in dark red. His black shirt under his leather jacket was ripped from the neck down in one large rent, exposing his hard chest.

  At his feet was a crumpled body of a man. One of the many Black Saints men, most likely. Marco had a grip on the man’s wrist.

  So that was how he had come up the elevator. The elevator required a thumbprint scan to enter. From the look of the way Marco was holding the arm, I was pretty sure it was broken.

  But none of that matter when I caught a glimpse of his face. His eyes were clear and focused.

  He saw my shocked face and carefully and quickly looked over me to make sure I was fine. He carelessly threw away the broken arm of the man, letting it thump against the elevator wall.

  Returning his steely black gaze to Tobias, he said lowly, “Lestrade. We need to talk.”

  Then he walked towards us.

  Chapter Twenty

  Halle

  Tobias looked just as floored as I was as Marco approached us.

  “How in the hell did you find this place?” Tobias demanded.

  Marco wiped the back of a hand against his lip, wiping away some stray blood.

  His black eyes zeroed in Tobias’s hands still gripping my arms. “How about you let go of my woman first?”

  Tobias jerked a little as if he had forgotten he was still holding me. Slowly, he uncurled his fingers from me and turned towards Marco.

  And what a sight he was. God, he made my heart ache just standing there! I wanted to run into his arms, screaming and crying with joy. But at the same time, I wanted to drag him to a bed and check him for damage. He was breathing hard after having fought god knows how many men. How had he found us?

  But more than that, how had he gotten all the way up the sixth floor by himself? He couldn’t have actually fought and shot his way up here…could he? Looking at the blood drying on his gun, I realized that was exactly what he had done.

  I knew Marco would never give up on finding me. I knew that.

  But I never thought he would enter a building with dozens of men ready to kill him, armed with just his own two fists and guts.

  Fresh tears welled up again.

  “You tried to fuck me over,” Marco said slowly, eyes pinned on Tobias. “You fucking coward. You were trying to sneak off, weren’t you?”

  I stared between the two men. What was Marco saying? How could he know that Tobias had wanted to sneak me away?

  Tobias’s throat tightened and I saw a gleam of anger shine over his eyes. “Coward? Who’s the coward here?” he countered. “I was doing the right thing by trying to protect her life. You’re the one too scared and weak to do the right thing by her, leaving me no choice.”

  My head jerked up at Tobias. “I’m not going on that plane,” I said in a clear and even tone. I was a grown woman who knew her own mind. We all came with baggage in the game of love and if I really loved Marco, I could accept him, danger and all.

  That was my decisions. No one else’s. Least of all, Tobias’s.

  Tobias looked down at me wordlessly. I saw a range of emotions fly past those green eyes. Anger, desire, denial, frustration, irritation, and underneath it all, a thin layer of heartbreak.

  I never meant to break anyone’s heart but I would not take part in Tobias’s delusions.

  Taking a deep breath, I threw myself at Marco, running quickly lest Tobias caught me and pulled me back.

  Marco grabbed me about the waist with one arm, securely tucking me in against him. I breathed him in, relieved beyond measure to feel his solid body pressed against mine. I felt whole and complete for the first time in weeks.

  Tobias stood frozen like a statue as he stared at us both.

  “You’re making a mistake,” he said softly, staring at me. “If you’d just give me a
chance, you’d see you’re making a mistake.”

  There was a sincerity to his voice. He really did believe I would die if I stayed with Marco. It wasn’t just physical passion and lust that was driving him. It was also a true and genuine worry about my well-being. He saw me walking towards a guaranteed death sentence.

  I sighed, oddly touched but still adamant about my decision. “If you’d give me a chance and listen, you’d see that this is where I want to be,” I said, standing close to Marco, safely tucked under his arm.

  Tobias shook his head sadly. He lowered his gaze. Together, Marco and I stood our ground. I could feel his heart beat steadily against his chest. It calmed me to hear it. We were in a tremendous amount of danger. I knew we could very well die in this building, never making it out alive.

  But having Marco’s arms around me, I knew this is where I wanted to be—by the side of the man who would knock down walls and take on armies to find me.

  Tobias was right—I was in danger with Marco. People were petty and evil and there was no telling how many people would want to set a vendetta against the heir of the Desmond Mafia. But my heart was in danger without him. And a body was just a shell without its heart.

  “What happened to the men at Thatherton?” Tobias asked, raising his gaze back at us. That look of cool calculation was back. His mask was back.

  Marco gave a humorless smile. “Oh they’re still there,” he said calmly. “It’ll be a hell of a clean up job for the men at the dock come morning.”

  Tobias raised a brow, clearly impressed and a little taken aback. I didn’t know how many men they were talking about but it was beginning to become clear that Marco had started his rough night long before arriving at the Black Saints headquarters. His bruised and bloody knuckles were a testament to that.

  “Where’s the key?” Tobias asked.

  “Why the fuck should I tell you?” Marco countered, his eyes narrowed.

  Now it was Tobias’s turn to give us the same cold smile. “Because you can’t possibly believe that the men you fought downstairs were the only men of the Black Saints. I predict in less than five minutes—”

  There was a soft swoosh sound as the elevator suddenly was called down behind us.

  Tobias made a shrugging gesture. “Oops, I guess I was wrong,” he said. “I predict in less than thirty seconds, several dozen men will be arriving on this floor, this time with guns drawn. You can either hand me the key now or I can take it from your dead body in about a minute.”

  Almost immediately after he finished speaking, the elevator opened back up. A swarm of men poured out. I turned around to watch as dozens of men dressed in all black positioned themselves around us, taking up the entire sixth floor. They all had their guns cocked and aimed directly at us.

  The elevator was continually going back down and coming back up, bringing back more and more men till eventually we were surrounded by more than three dozen men.

  “Need a little more motivation, is it?” Tobias asked, watching Marco stand silently against the armed men. “What about firing a round into your woman? Watch her die or hand over the key? Does that sound like enough incentive?”

  I stared at Tobias, his face cold and unmoving.

  Marco raised a brow. “Who was it that was just professing his need to protect her?”

  Tobias shrugged. “She picked a future where death was possible at any opportunity. Well here is the opportunity and death is waiting. I tried my best to save her. Now all of this lies with you.”

  My brain raced. It was clear Marco was debating what to do. Since he probably had no idea what he would find at the Black Saints headquarters, he hadn’t had much room to plan. How can you plan for everything and nothing? He had come in with just the one mission—to find me.

  I thought about my secret weapon then. I knew if there was ever a moment to use it, this was the time but I had yet to have the pieces fall in to place for me.

  Then it hit me.

  Key. Turn Tech. Copper. Black Saints.

  I tugged urgently on Marco’s jacket. “Do you have a cellphone?” I asked.

  Marco looked startled by the question but reached inside his jacket and pulled out his phone, handing it to me.

  If Turn Tech was involved, Marco would’ve needed help. I opened the recent calls page and saw Zeke’s number. He had recruited the German hacker, just like I had guessed! My heart raced and my palms began to sweat. Could I possibly make this work?

  I pulled out the number, my thumb hovering over the dial button.

  I looked up to make sure I had Tobias’s attention. He was watching me curiously, unsure what I was about to do but clearly unimpressed by whatever it was.

  Sure that I had Tobias’s attention, I hit dial.

  I held the phone to my ear, my hands gripping it tightly. The line rang only twice before it was immediately picked up.

  “Did you find the place?” Zeke asked without preamble.

  “Grab a pen or paper,” I said, also without preamble, “or type it somewhere.”

  “Hey! Marco’s woman! Why are—”

  “Ready?” I asked, interrupting. I watched as Tobias narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what I was getting at. “Michel Dourat, Augustus Hines, Felipe Alvaraz, Dominique St. Vincent, Peter Wells.”

  With each successive name, I watched as Tobias’s green eyes grew wider and wider. I could see the muscles of his throat clenching repeatedly as I spoke. His large fists opened and curled, causing Marco to step out in front of me, partially blocking me a little from view.

  I looked up and saw Marco watching me with a confused expression, unsure what I was doing but trusting me by not stopping me.

  “And Faruq Hamilton,” I said in conclusion. “You have those name?”

  “Yes but—”

  “Good,” I said, cutting him off again. “Keep them handy. Publish them publically if you don’t see me within 24 hours.”

  I hung up the phone.

  A silence fell across the floor. I felt a trickle of cold sweat run down my back. I could almost feel every single gun pressing against my back. I brushed the thought out of my head but couldn’t shake the feeling of knowing several dozen guns were pointed exactly where I was imagining.

  “Where. Did. You. Get. Those. Names?” Tobias asked slowly, his voice a hiss of a whisper.

  Marco kept his position firmly in front of me, his back taut and ready for action.

  “I only recognized one of those names,” I said, not answering his question directly. “Felipe Alvarez. I remember him from an old FBI file. He’s part of the Spanish royal family, nephew to the King, I think.”

  Tobias lips pressed tighter together, his eyes flashing.

  “That gave me an idea of who the other people might be,” I said. “Or at least, the level that they’re at.”

  When I had found that computer on the third floor, I had found a minimized screen. When I had pulled it up, it had turned out to be a document containing a short list of names.

  And above the list was a short title: “TTKey Buyers.”

  I had no idea what that had meant or who those people were, save Felipe Alvarez. But I could tell it was something important. One or two of the names had checks next to them with remarks like, “highest bid,” or, “needs assurance of exclusivity.”

  It reeked of something covert and off the books.

  I’m sure whoever had been making the list had thought that with all the security features on a Black Saints computer, nobody would be able to find his list before he deleted it.

  It was something Marco always said—human error. That was always the downfall in the end.

  And that’s what this was, human error. Someone had gotten sloppy and I had been there at that exact moment to capitalize on it.

  And now it was starting to come together. TTKey. Turn Tech Key. I still had no idea what this key was and why everyone wanted it but clearly it was something valuable or else a member of the Spanish royal family would not be interest
ed in possibly buying it.

  “Where did you get those names?” Tobias asked again through his teeth, clearly enraged that someone had broken through the thick and foggy veil of the Black Saints.

 

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