The Final Hour (Dublin Nights Book 5)

by Brittney Sahin

  Atlas had arranged for some of the guards he trusted with his life to come to the hotel and “escort” Cole, Sebastian, and Sean to Arnaud’s estate. Roman and his teammates had spared those two men during the fighting.

  “I can’t thank you enough.” Sean directed his words to Roman and his team of SEALs, the same team we met back at my house in Sicily in October. Tonight, they had come through for us and returned the favor. “Sorry about your holiday.”

  “Nah, taking down baddies is fun to me, don’t sweat it.” Finn, who I heard the others refer to as Echo Five, slapped Sean on the back and quickly retracted his hand with a Sorry, man when Sean winced.

  He’d be black and blue for at least a week.

  “He didn’t hurt you, right?” Roman asked me a moment later, his voice soft. “Luca?”

  “If he did, we’ll find some voodoo spell to bring him back to life so we can torture him a bit more before ending him again,” Wyatt, Roman’s British teammate, offered as if he did that sort of thing every day.

  And how exactly was a Brit an American SEAL? I never bothered to ask before, but I made a mental note to ask Roman when all this craziness finally died down.

  “No, but that Arnaud jerk wanted to.” I grimaced. “Surprisingly, Luca stopped him.”

  Sean shook his head, still angry at the idea I’d been alone with any of those guys. He held on to his side and moved around the crowded group to stand next to me.

  “Is it really over?” I swiped at a tear that broke free and pulled my attention to Sebastian. Cole and Alessia were off to his right.

  Sebastian turned to Harper for an answer since she pretty much ran the show for us digitally.

  Harper nodded. “There’s no way any of those men will be able to escape conviction, not with the intel we shared all over the internet. And I ‘personally’ sent it to every major agency, from Interpol to MI6.” Her smile was big and bright, but her eyes looked tired—no doubt from being up for days as well as being glued to a computer screen. “Bridgette will be trading in her couture for khakis. We have enough incriminating evidence to prove she was complicit in her father’s and her husband’s businesses.”

  “And what about Sara?” We had yet to discuss an outcome for her.

  “We’ll make sure Sara gets slapped with an ankle bracelet and does at least a thousand hours of community service in a bright orange jumpsuit, of course,” A.J. said with a smile.

  I wished worse for her, but the orange outfit while picking up rubbish was a nice visual and justice enough.

  “What about Atlas and Penelope?” I asked, my heart beating faster.

  Sean reached for my hand and laced our fingers together while we waited for an answer. My nerves tangled at the idea I only just discovered I had a mother and brother and might already have them taken away.

  Roman shoved his hands into the pockets of his cargo trousers. “Our government managed to cut a deal with the French and Greeks to keep them in U.S. custody. Neither country wants to be involved in the shit show Harper unleashed. So, the Castellanoses will be under electronic monitoring without jail time, as long as they fully cooperate and turn over everything they have on The Alliance. When the time comes, they’ll also need to be placed in WITSEC. The Feds recommend they assume new identities after the trial.”

  Sean squeezed my hand, a silent question wondering if the outcome was acceptable for me. And it was better than I’d hoped for. I wasn’t sure how Atlas and Penelope would feel about going into hiding, but it was better than jail or being taken out by former Alliance members.

  “Can you put in one more request?” I stepped forward, bringing Sean with me since I’d kept our hands united. “I’d like a chance to speak to them before the authorities take them away.”

  Roman looked at Wyatt and the others.

  “I’ll see where they’re being held. Find out what I can do.” Wyatt left the suite, and a few other SEALs began packing up their gear.

  I hadn’t seen Atlas since he’d left the knife on my lap to search for Bridgette. I was still a bit peeved he’d chosen to listen to Sean and leave me tied up. Also, angry at Sean for that, too. But Sean and I were even since I lied to him about the actual plan, and those were the last lies I wanted between us.

  “Can I have a second alone?” I tipped my head toward the bedroom, eyes on Harper.

  Harper exchanged a quick look with Roman, then nodded, and I let go of Sean’s hand, and she followed me into the bedroom. The room still smelled like the custom perfume Sean had given me for my birthday. Had he sprayed it while I was gone?

  I shut the door behind us, and Harper peered at me, a confused expression in her eyes. “We couldn’t have done this without you.” I sat on the bed, my legs unsteady after everything that had happened.

  She remained by the door, still guarded. “Team effort.”

  Humble. I liked that. “Listen, these last few weeks have made me realize some things,” I began, my voice a little shaky. “I’d always believed I would be less strong or that I’d become more vulnerable if I let my defenses down and allowed myself to fall in love. To be loved in return.” I swallowed, not sure what in the hell I was doing. Roman was going to kill me. “And I can see a lot of myself in you.” I released a deep breath when she repositioned her stance as if uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. “Roman and I are only friends. We’ve only ever been friends.”

  Her eyes lifted to mine in a flash, narrowing on me.

  “But I really care about him, and I can tell he’s hurting. I don’t know if he’s got his head in his ass or if it’s—”

  “Me?” She frowned. “Maybe it’s both of us for different reasons.” She took a small step closer. “I think we’re better suited as friends.”

  “Hm.” My shoulders dropped. “But you must know the chemistry between you two is phenomenal. It’s a tangible thing when I’m in the same room with you both, and I’m guessing I’m not the only one who notices. That kind of connection doesn’t just go away.”

  Why was I pushing the woman? Right, I cared about Roman. He was my friend, and I wanted him to have what I had. Love and happiness. A future with someone he couldn’t imagine himself without. The old Emilia would never, not in a million years, be having this talk with anyone, but love had a funny way of opening my eyes.

  Harper glanced toward the window, but her body language told me she was ready to bolt for the door. “I’ll care about that man until the day I die,” she said softly before bringing her gaze back to me. I saw the unshed tears in her eyes as she gave me a small nod and opened the door.

  I wanted to stop her, but I wasn’t sure what else to say. I didn’t know their full story, and I had to hope they’d both come to their senses before it was too late.

  “Looks like Wyatt came through,” Harper said, motioning toward the living room. “Want me to send them in?”

  My heart jumped into my throat, so I only nodded.

  Atlas and Penelope walked through the doorway a moment later. Sean was behind them as if not trusting them enough to leave me alone.

  “Hi,” I managed, rising from the bed and wringing my hands as a myriad of emotions threatened to drown me.

  Penelope was staring at me as if she were standing before a ghost. Did Chanel and I look that similar, and I’d subconsciously ignored that truth? Or did seeing me remind her of Papà? I didn’t know the woman well enough to discern her expression, and it hit me hard that I’d likely not have that chance anytime soon.

  Atlas’s hands were stuffed into his trouser pockets, clearly unsure how to act in this situation as well. We were on the same page there. What to say? What to do?

  “You know the truth,” Penelope said softly and made the first move, appearing to glide across the room in her wide-legged flowy black trousers and blue silk top. She was a stunning woman who had great style, just like her daughter Chanel—my sister.

  “I know part of the truth,” I confessed, anxious to learn what I didn’t. I hated that
my father wasn’t alive to share their story, and pained by the fact this woman was my mother and couldn’t be in my life. “You’re my mother. Papà loved you,” I rushed out the quick facts. “But how’d I come to live with him?”

  Penelope motioned for Atlas to sit alongside me. A parent about to speak to her children. Enlighten them with a story about her past.

  Atlas hesitantly strode closer and sat on the bed, leaving a few meters of space between us.

  I looked to Sean, who was leaning against the interior doorframe. I needed to find his eyes for support, and he lightly nodded, letting me know he was there for me and wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Your father and I were in love for a long time. We met at eighteen when our parents were both vacationing in the same location. When we discovered we were from rival families, we made every effort to stay away from each other, but the connection was too strong.” She paused and took a breath. “Years later, our parents found out we snuck away to see each other whenever possible. Your grandfather was still in charge of the family at the time, and he ordered your father to marry an Italian. And my father threatened to kill him if we kept sneaking around.”

  “And what happened?” I whispered, barely able to utter the words.

  “I made him marry Sophia, worried about what my ruthless father would do. But then I discovered I was pregnant.” She set her back to the wall opposite us. Tears filled her eyes but refused to fall. “My father hid me away while I was pregnant to keep anyone from finding out and said I had to give you up for adoption.”

  My world was spinning, but I tried to take slow, calming breaths.

  “I begged and pleaded to let your father raise you instead. We promised not to tell anyone the truth, and my father surprised me by agreeing once you were born. Of course, he viewed it as a smart business move, not the loving act of a grandfather. He said it’d keep your father off his back, keep him from attacking us since he not only loved me but had our child.”

  Atlas’s head had bowed forward, his focus on his hands in his lap. Purple bruises had begun to take the place of the redness where he’d been hit and punched. He and Sean were equally banged up in that regard, though I imagined hearing his, our mother’s revelation was adding an entirely new level of pain.

  I looked back to Penelope, waiting for her to continue, to give us more.

  “I chose your names, though. Emilia, which is Latin for rival and excel. I knew no one would ever rival your beauty. And your middle name, Tessa, meaning huntress. A strong and independent woman like I wished I could have been,” she explained sadly.

  I gripped my chest at her words, emotion threatening to overwhelm me.

  “Sophia left him not too long after he brought you into his home as a baby.” Penelope’s lower lip quivered. “We tried to stop seeing each other, especially after I was forced to marry Simon and Chanel was born.”

  “But you didn’t,” Atlas said in a low voice, his eyes on the floor.

  “No, we didn’t. We continued to see each other until your sister was taken from all of us.” She sniffled. “I couldn’t bear to face him again after that. It was too painful.”

  I slowly stood, wanting so much to reach out for her. Hug her. Comfort her. But she was still a stranger to me.

  “We did what we could to protect you, Emilia. Being stricken from your life was so painful that I couldn’t possibly let your father endure that hardship, so I never told him the truth about Atlas.”

  My entire body went weak, and if I weren’t sitting, I would have collapsed.

  I stole a look at Atlas, who was now on his feet, his gaze pinned to Penelope, her hand outstretched as if begging for forgiveness.

  “You’re a Calibrisi, my son. Not a Laurent. And I didn’t tell your father, Emilia, because I knew the pain of not being allowed to raise you,” she quickly explained.

  You, my son, were a product of love, Penelope’s words from the listening device Christmas Eve came back to me.

  Atlas peered at me as if searching for even more of a resemblance.

  Papà had a son. Oh my God.

  I wasn’t the last living Calibrisi.

  Atlas turned from us, went over to the window, and moved the curtains aside to set both palms to the glass.

  “I’m so sorry to the both of you.” Tears fell more steadily down her cheeks now, which finally brought me to my feet. “I hope one day you can forgive me. Maybe once it’s safe, we can be a family? Start fresh?”

  “Family,” I whispered, not sure what to make of that word. I looked to Sean, his expressive eyes full of so much love. He was my family. Could I make more room in my heart? I hadn’t wanted Atlas and Penelope sent to prison because part of me hoped . . . “A fresh start sounds nice,” I said softly, gently wiping away a tear.

  Atlas slowly turned toward us. “We’re from two different worlds. I was raised as a criminal.” His husky voice bled with sadness and pain. But maybe also hope.

  “Chanel used to always tell me you were a kind man with a big heart. Not like your father. And now it makes sense because you’re not Simon’s blood.” I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer, and Sean came to my side when Penelope had yet to budge. Possibly worried I’d reject her. “You’re not a bad man, Atlas. You were just raised by one. There’s a difference.”

  Sean circled an arm around my side, holding me tight.

  I glanced back and forth between my brother and mother, wondering what the future held for us.

  “You, my son, made the right choice tonight. Like I said, you’re a Calibrisi. You have his strength and passion inside you.” She strode closer and set the back of her hand to my cheek. “And the woman you became would make both your Papà and Chanel proud.”

  I fought the heavy sob that tried to escape, trying desperately to not completely lose control.

  But I couldn’t stop myself. I pulled free from Sean’s hold and buried my face in Penelope’s chest and sobbed. She wrapped her arms around my trembling body and held me tight.

  “My daughter. My beautiful daughter.” Penelope gently smoothed her hand down the back of my head like I’d always envisioned a mother would do to comfort her child, and Atlas surprised me with a tissue once I was safely back in Sean’s arms.

  “I could’ve killed you,” Atlas said, his tone tortured. Eyes dark. “I-I could’ve killed my own sister.”

  “But you didn’t,” Sean spoke up for the first time.

  Atlas stole a look his way. “You love her?”

  Sean lowered his chin to peer at me, then focused back on Atlas. “Hell yes, I do.”

  Atlas came closer and brought his hands to his hips. “I’ll do better. For you and Chanel.” He reached forward and set a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll need time to forgive your lie, Mother.” He looked her way. “But I’ll get there.”

  Penelope pulled him in for a hug, and I turned to see Roman standing in the doorway.

  “I’m sorry. It’s time for them to go,” Roman said with regret.

  “Okay,” I mouthed. We said a few awkward goodbyes, but I knew I’d be seeing them again.

  Sean held me in his arms once we were alone.

  “Well, this is about as fairy tale as it gets, right?” My attempt at a joke sounded more like a strangled cry. I had decades’ worth of tears escaping tonight.

  He stepped back to cup my cheeks and brought his mouth close to mine. “Pretty sure fairy tales end in a kiss.”

  “Won’t that hurt?” I winced at the sight of his bruised face and swollen lips.

  “Mm.” He smiled. “Not as much as it will if I don’t kiss you.” He seized my mouth a moment later, and I wilted in his arms.

  I had my life back.

  The life I never knew I’d lost.

  And the one I never knew I wanted.

  “I love you, Sean,” I said against his lips. “And if you’ll let me . . . I want to move to Ireland to be with you.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Emilia

  Paris, Fra
nce (Three Days Later)

  “I brought you something.” I sat on the blanket I’d laid out in front of Chanel’s headstone and reached into the bag for a bottle of champagne and two flutes I’d brought from my house in Italy.

  After we’d tied up all the loose ends in Monaco, I’d gone home with Sean to say goodbye to the place where I grew up. To say goodbye to Papà and tell him I forgave him for lying. To tell him about his son.

  I’d stood in his study and breathed in the familiar smells of earthy leather, sweet cigar, and musty books one last time. And then I’d smoked one of his vanilla cigars and drank some of his whiskey.

  I apologized for the promise I was going to break by being with Sean, but I was certain Papà would forgive me now that I knew the truth about the woman he’d spent a lifetime loving. He’d never want that life for me if he knew how much I loved Sean.

  I popped the champagne’s cork and filled both glasses, then set one on the edge of the stone and raised my glass.

  It was a cold day. Snow covered the ground, and the tree branches were bare. But it felt perfect to me.

  “This time, sister, I’m drinking champagne because I’m in love.” Tears welled in my eyes, and I let go of a deep breath before sipping the gold liquid. “I hope wherever you are, you can see me. And that you know the truth. We’re sisters.” I swallowed more of the champagne, trying to maintain my resolve. “Fate brought us together, but I’m so sorry you died because of it.”

  I could feel her there, the same way I’d felt Papà in his study just yesterday.

  It may have been freezing outside, but a sudden blanket of warmth wrapped around my shoulders, sending goose bumps scattering beneath my clothes.

  Simon Laurent’s right-hand man, Theo—now Atlas’s right-hand man—told us Simon wasn’t the one who’d ordered the hit on me ten years ago in Vegas. I supposed I believed him because I couldn’t fathom how Simon would have been able to live with himself knowing he’d accidentally had his own daughter killed. Not that it made him any better of a man, considering he did try to kill me two other times.