Billionaire Romance Box Set: The Billionaire's Legacy: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Box Set

by Sarah J. Brooks

  “Me?” I exclaimed. “Why do I have to go in?”

  “Because Antoine will trust you,” he said. “He knows that you’re not one of us. He’ll know that he can go with you and be safe.”

  “Manuel is going to be watching for me,” I pointed out. “He’s gunning for me.”

  “Manuel is going to be thinking that you’re sitting in the passenger seat of Brad’s car, where a UC is going to be sitting in your place. UC is short for—”

  “Undercover Officer, yeah, we have those in America, too,” I said, frowning. “So, what, we just go in and get him? After all of that? It’s that easy?”

  “Oh, Cassie, It’s not going to be easy.” He put his hand on mine and squeezed it lightly. I stared at it, feeling the warmth of his palm spread across the top of my hand. For a moment, time seemed to suspend itself. Not going to be easy. I looked at him, and he slowly pulled his hand away.

  “No,” I said, pulling my hand into my lap. “No, I won’t do it.” I shook my head.

  He regarded me silently. I let silence sit between us, daring him to speak first, while I finished my pint. He didn’t speak. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “You want to throw Brad in like a piece of bait,” I said, trying to keep my voice low. “You want to set him up to walk right up to fucking Manuel’s front door and, what, say ‘Hi, could I please have my son back?’ I mean, are you fucking joking? And we go in from the back all stealth and shit? What exactly is Brad supposed to say to keep Manuel distracted for long enough for us to get in there and get Antoine?

  “And,” I continued, just warming up with the ridiculousness of Julian’s plan, “you’re just assuming that Antoine, a boy who has been traumatized for years is going to what, just go with me? Because I tell him I’m a friend of his daddy’s? Are you for fucking real?”

  I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms, not even looking at Julian. Frankly, by that point in the day I’d already had my fill of stupid men. Then, of course, I remembered that I had been the one to call Julian, not the other way around.

  “Listen, Cassie, I’ve done this sort of thing before. I know it’s out of your wheelhouse, but, you have to trust that I do this sort of thing all the time. Criminals are not smart. We give them a lot more credit than they deserve. They’re easy to confuse, double cross. We get them thinking one thing, and then we turn it around on them; that’s all.”

  He looked at me and smiled, reached his hand out for mine again. I looked at his palm, open on the table, and shook my head.

  “I think I should go,” I said. “What do I owe you for the pint?”

  “Nothing, Cassie,” Julian said, frustration, for the first time, present in his voice. “You don’t owe me anything. But, please reconsider. This plan is only truly possible if you participate. Manuel has to believe you’re there. He has to believe you’re with us. He has eyes and ears everywhere. If you’re at Legacy, he’ll know. If you’re at Brad’s house, he’ll know. The only way to keep Brad, yourself, and Antoine safe is to follow the plan.”

  I stood up, my head full of thoughts, scenarios, what-ifs. I shook my head and turned to walk out the door.

  “Wait,” Julian said. “Let me walk you to the tube.”

  I turned and walked, giving him the option to catch up with me, which he did. I didn’t speak. We walked side by side, sometimes bumping into each other if our steps got too close. In spite of how angry I was with the entire situation, when he nudged me hard, on purpose, I giggled.

  “Stop it, klutz!” I said. “I’ll run you into the road.”

  He turned, suddenly, and was in front of me.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Cassie,” he said. He stood in front of me with his hands in his pockets, his cheeks alive with energy and excitement, a shy grin on his face.

  I couldn’t help but smile in return. When I did, I must have leaned my chin forward, done something to suggest that I was receptive to his flirtation. Who knows, maybe, at some level, I was receptive. We locked eyes, and he moved in closer to me. Took his hands out of his pockets. My mouth was open, and he wrapped his arms around me, brought me in for a kiss….

  I turned my face away and buried it into his coat collar. He kissed the side of my head. I closed my eyes.

  “I can’t do that,” I whispered. I had my arms around him, my heart pounding in my chest.

  “I know,” he said, continuing to hold me. “I know you can’t. I can’t either. I don’t know what just happened there.”

  “Two pints, chugged fast,” I said, smiling and pulling away. I looked at him and winked, no hard feelings. “It’s what happens, right?”

  He looked at me curiously, then nodded. “Right,” he said. “Okay, then.” He turned and walked me the rest of the way to the tube station, then made sure I got on. “I’ll be in touch with you, Cassie. I promise. And, remember, Brad cannot know that you’re going to be a part of the operation. If he thinks you’re in danger, he’ll abort the whole thing.”

  I nodded. “Tight-lipped.”

  “Journalist,” he said, nodding.

  Brad

  Things moved fast after I met with Antoine. He got me in contact with an NCA agent, Julian, who had done a lot of work on the case with Patrick Shim, before Patrick’s demise. With Simon confirming that, by her GPS, Cassie appeared to be doing some shopping in central London, I texted Julian and set up a meeting with him at Legacy.

  He was there within an hour. My secretary let him in, and I ushered him to have a seat. First impression was that the NCA must buy all of their agents from the same catalogue; Julian bore a striking resemblance to Patrick. “Agent Boran,” I said, gesturing for him to sit. “Thank you for coming in.”

  “My pleasure,” He said. He took a thick file from his briefcase and set it on my desk.

  “My understanding,” I said, “is that you had been in contact with Patrick about my son and his case, his abduction so many years ago, and the death of my fiancée, Lorinda.”

  “Yes,” Julian said. “And Patrick had a plan, that, unfortunately, he wasn’t able to execute properly. Before he died, he shared with me everything that he knew. He gave me his passwords, he gave me all of his information about Cassie, and,” he cleared his throat, “he gave me all of the information he knew about you.”

  “So,” I said, “after all of this is completed, you’re probably going to arrest me and I’ll never see the light of day again,” I said. My voice was grim, but the reality was true.

  “That remains to be seen,” Julian said. “You are, forgive me, a somewhat small fish in a large pond. You’re definitely not innocent, but the NCA has discussed using you as an informant, possibly granting immunity, if the information we get from you contributes to the capture of Manuel Brown and the man he answers to.”

  I arched my eyebrows. “The man Manuel Brown answers to?” I said incredulously.

  “Yes,” Patrick gave me a rueful smile. “Manuel Brown is not the top of the line. He has a boss. Just like you have to answer to him, he answers to someone even more powerful. Even more diabolical.”

  “Wow,” I said, sitting back. “Okay, what’s the plan? Let’s assume that, in order to avoid charges, I agree to cooperate?”

  Julian smiled, taking a small recorder out of his pocket. “Is it all right if I record this portion?”

  My stomach jolted with anxiety over my words being recorded, possibly twisted. He saw me hesitate; he waited.

  “Yes,” I said. “Go ahead.” I would do anything for Antoine and Cassie.

  “We believe we know where your son is, Mr. White. We have it limited to a city block, based on illegal activity that’s been coming from the house, as well as satellite pings that come from that block to all over the world. It’s rare for one city block to have contacts in France, South Africa, Belize, The Congo, Russia, Australia, and others. From a residential city block, that is.”

  I nodded. I knew what was coming.”

  “So, what’s going to happen here, is
, I’m going to show you a series of photographs, and, what I’d like you to do, is identify any of the houses that look familiar. Or, if they all look familiar, then which look more familiar than others.”

  I swallowed hard as he began to lay the pictures out in front of me on my mahogany desk. I recognized them all. I recognized them from years ago, to the day when I had seen Antoine looking at me from the living room, calling my name… I shuddered and turned away.

  “It’s that one,” I said. “The blue one. It was white when it happened, but it’s definitely that one.”

  “Are you sure, Mr. White? I need to remind you, we’re trusting you to a point here, and we’re trusting you a lot out of respect for Cassie and that Patrick didn’t believe you had masterminded all of this. But, if you try to trick us, any deals we discussed will be null.”

  “I understand,” I said quickly. “Is that house still there? Is it occupied? Can we go now?” I stood, preparing to get my gear on.

  “Slowly, Mr. White,” Julian said. “We have some set up to do around the house. We want to make sure that everyone involved can get in and get out safely. Do you know where Cassie is right now?”

  I stopped. “Cassie is not to be a part of this,” I said. “I have some eyes on her; I believe she’s in central London doing some shopping today. She is not to be anywhere near this. She’s involved, and I’m out.” I stood behind my desk, my coat in my hand, showing Julian that, if that was the case, the plan ended here.

  “I promise,” Julian said. “Cassie will not be involved. The last thing we want is a civilian involved, especially one who is so convinced that she has inside information. Both Patrick and I agreed on that. She’s strong, smart, and savvy, but, like I’m sure you know, she was unable to prevent herself from being abducted by an infidel. We can’t take the change of having extra people around who could put themselves, us, or your son, Antoine, in danger. So, rest assured, she will be safe.”

  I relaxed, and I knew my relief was written all over my face. “Okay, then,” I said. “Tell me what I need to do.”

  “Get your piece, your vest, and get something of your son’s that he will be able to use to identify you as his father. I’ve been amassing my men in a perimeter around the block since early this morning. Now that you’ve ID’ed the house, we’ll be able to close in quickly. With any luck at all, Mr. White, we’ll have your son in your arms by the end of the day.”

  Cassie

  I sat in the back of the car with Julian, feeling my heart pounding so loud in my chest I was convinced everyone in a three mile radius could hear it. I ducked down whenever I heard another car pass, not knowing if it was someone who lived in the neighborhood, or if it was someone related to Manuel Brown and the raid that was about to take place.

  I had no idea, and I didn’t want to know, how everything was going to happen. Julian had told me that we would pull up into the back drive of the house, driving through an alley that separated one set of houses from another. The alley was blocked off, supposedly for construction, yet it was blocked for us.

  There was another car parked out front with an undercover officer who was approximately my height and build, cruising up and down the street. Bait number one.

  I hadn’t been in contact with Brad, but Julian had told me that he’d agreed with the plan, had agreed with me participating. I couldn’t believe how Julian had managed to convince Brad that I should be allowed to help, but I wasn’t going to question it too much. The whole point was, I was in the action. Brad was close by, and, with any luck at all, we would have Antoine back in Brad’s arms by the end of the day.

  Julian was speaking into his phone. “Everyone is getting into position. The perimeter is nearly three miles long, so we’ll need to watch for civilians. Look for the signals. Don’t shoot until you’re absolutely sure of looking at. Do you hear me on that?”

  There was a lot of static coming through Julian’s speaker, then several “Yes, Sir,” responses.

  “Let me know when Mr. White and his car have approached.”

  At the sound of Brad’s name, my nerves shot through my body. I must have made a noise, because Julian looked into the back seat. “Are you okay?” he asked. I nodded.

  “Who’s driving the car with the UC?” I asked.

  “One of our best,” Julian said. “Nothing is going to happen to her, either.”

  There was the sound of a horn honking, a distinct pattern, and Julian cleared his throat, straightened up in his seat, and gripped the steering wheel. “Okay, here we go. Duck down, and when I tell you to get out of the car, get out of the car and stay low, okay? I’ll be right behind you.”

  The horn honked again, and this time, rather than slowly rolling along the alley, Julian revved and gunned the engine. He squealed the tires and pulled into a driveway of a yellow house. I could see the blue house, our target, a few houses down.

  “Now!” he called, and he opened his door, gun out. I opened the back door and rolled out, using the truck as protection as I came around to his side of the car. He made eye contact with me and he waved his gun at two cars parked in the alley, black with one light blue door, symbols of neutral cars to us. I nodded.

  We crawled toward the back yard of the blue house. My heart was pounding so hard I thought I was going to throw up, but I kept going. Suddenly, shots were fired. Everyone started yelling, and the door to one of the black and blue cars opened. Julian grabbed me by the back of my shirt and picked me up off the ground before I’d even realized what had happened. He stuffed us both into the back seat and ducked us down.

  “What the fuck happened!” he yelled into his cell phone, using it like a walkie-talkie.

  “Some random uniform drove by,” a man answered breathlessly. “Nearly shot the whole plan to shit, fucking ass.”

  “What’s happening?” Julian screamed. I’d never seen him so angry; his face was cherry red, nearly to bursting, veins in his head and neck pulsing. This meant something more to him than it did to the other cops; it meant, for whatever reason, as much to him as it meant to Brad and me.

  “It’s cool, Boss,” the other voice said. “There was no response from the blue house. Makes me wonder if maybe we got them on a day when there’s no one home. We might have gotten lucky and they just left Antoine in the basement while they went to conduct business.”

  “Yeah, and maybe the Queen Mum is sitting in the dining room waiting to serve us tea and crumpets,” Julian sneered. “Stay with the plan. And, for fuck’s sake, I want this area cleared!” he roared. “Cleared! Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, sir,” the voice, chastised, clicked off of the phone.

  “Fucking imbiciles,” Julian muttered. The man sitting in the driver’s seat said nothing; it was as though he was not even there. That had to have been by instruction.

  Julian nodded, and the man opened the door automatically. Julian stepped out first, then I followed as best I could; my legs felt like jelly.

  “This is the hard part,” he said. “We get from here to the back door, we send the signal, and we’re home free.”

  I nodded. He looked at me and squeezed my hand. “Are you ready?”

  I nodded again. He squeezed my hand, hard, then released it. I heard him slowly count, one, two, three, and then he reared back and kicked the back door open with his foot. It shattered, the wood splintering at the door jamb, and made a noise so loud I couldn’t believe a sleeping God wouldn’t have snapped awake. But, when the dust settled, there was no noise in the house. No noise at all.

  I looked at Julian, not sure if that was good or bad. He shrugged and directed me to keep walking. Stick with the plan, no matter what.

  We explored the main level of the house, looking for any signs of movement, any signs of a basement. There was commotion going on in the front of the house, on the front lawn. I tried to look through the windows to see if it was Brad, to see if he had managed to suss Manuel out of the house, see if that was what the gunfire was all about. There was action,
and, suddenly, more gunfire. I dropped to the floor immediately, but Julian grabbed me and dragged me across the floor. I felt the splinters of the wooden floor jam into my jeans and sweatshirt, and I knew I’d be bloody later. But, those wounds were all fixable.

  I scrambled with him toward a door that was open just a crack, a door with a glow of light coming from the opening.

  This is it, Julian mouthed to me. I nodded and crawled toward the door, trying to keep one ear open on the commotion going on outside, waiting for the millisecond when everything would change, when the action would come off the street and move into the house.

  We didn’t dare turn the basement light on, though the glow of what was coming was hardly enough to see by. Julian had a pencil flashlight that he used to add to the glow. He swung it from one side of the basement to the other. There was obvious evidence that this space had been lived in, and that it had been lived in by a child. Children’s sized clothes, books, and video games were strewn around the center of the room. In the corner, a dirty mattress without sheets lay in the corner. A few inches above the mattress, on the wall, chains had been drilled into the stone of the basement.

  Chains that were empty now. There was no one here.

  “There’s no one here,” I whispered, not even fully grasping the full danger we were in, not sure my brain had the capacity to grasp it.

  “Wait,” Julian said, nodding toward two other closed doors near the mattress. “Stay there.” He walked slowly toward the door. A crash from above made us both wince, and Julian moved faster. He quickly flung open each door. Guns fell out of one, clattering on top of each other at a volume that would have woken the dead, echoing in the small basement. The other door had a padlock.

  “Antoine!” Julian cried. “Antoine! Are you in there?” He motioned for me to come to the door and speak.