The Ex Assignment (Rogue Protectors Book 1)

by Victoria Paige

  Gabby cursed when she saw Nick on the surveillance monitor mounted in the kitchen. She was wearing one of her sheerest nighties, she was barefoot, and was preparing peanut butter sandwiches for sustenance so she and Declan could resume their sexual activities.

  “What the fuck?” Declan growled as he stalked into the kitchen, holding his phone, looking at the app for the surveillance cameras. “He has the audacity to come here?”

  “His messages were frantic. Theo wouldn’t see him.”

  “And he thinks he can just barge in here and talk to you?”

  “Look, I’ll talk—” She started toward the bedroom to grab a robe, but Declan grabbed her arm.

  “No,” he snarled.

  “Dec—”

  “You and him are over.”

  “He—” She didn’t get the opportunity to say anything before Declan crushed her mouth with his, his fingers digging into her bottom and lifting her up on the countertop, and before she knew it, he’d slammed into her.

  He fucked her fast and deep. His mouth moved somewhere in the vicinity of her neck, burying his face in her hair, and that was when she saw what he was doing. Declan wouldn’t be as crass as fucking her in front of Nick, he was too possessive for that. But having Gabby watch the video feed of Nick frustrated, ringing the doorbell for her while Declan was fucking her senseless was him going all alpha in claiming her and making sure she knew to whom she belonged to.

  That. Was. Hot.

  And utterly insane.

  “Hey, where’d you go?” Declan nuzzled her neck.

  “You need to reign in your alpha jealousy crap.”

  “My what?” he chuckled. “I don’t get jealous.”

  Gabby pulled back and arched a brow.

  “No, Angel, I’d get rid of the competition if that were the case.” His green eyes gleamed wickedly. “There’s no reason for me to get jealous.”

  “You know I’m a homicide cop, right?”

  If possible, his face grew more wicked—sinister.

  “Oh my god, Declan, I’m not joking about this. You cannot do this jealous possessive bullshit when I’m at work. I work with men. I don’t need an overprotective boyfriend riding my ass if I need to strip naked to get into my assault gear. Got me?”

  His jaw hardened.

  “Got me?” she repeated.

  “Marry me then.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “You want to get married again?”

  He nodded. He lifted her left hand, running his thumb over her bare ring finger. “You already know I love you. You know I’m never gonna leave you. All I’m asking is that you wear my ring so every son of a bitch you interact with knows there isn’t a prayer that they’re getting a chance with you.”

  “Can I think about this?” she squeaked. Gabby vibrated with so much giddiness, her heart hurt, but she wasn’t a teenager anymore. She wasn’t going to make any rash decisions.

  “Of course.” He didn’t look happy at all and she almost said yes then and there.

  “Were you really thinking about asking me or did you dream up this idea when Nick showed up?”

  His face softened. “Gabby,” he said in a chiding tone. “A life with you has always been my dream. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

  32

  Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

  Antonio Andrade sat under a cabana, sipping a glass of caipirinha, watching two topless women frolic at the edge of the shore as the waves swept across the sand. They were his entertainment for the day. Their young nubile bodies should set his balls on fire, but he felt nothing. His blood only craved one woman.

  Ariana Ortega.

  He’d been patient, knowing the beauty had a lot to prove in her business, and he allowed her the growth. He understood a woman driven by her career and admired her for it, so he waited. Ortega promised Ariana to him. Turned out, it was merely a ploy so Andrade would share his connections, his business contacts, and use his influence to keep the cartel at bay. Raul Ortega was an ambitious man and he made the mistake of underestimating Andrade’s ruthlessness.

  It burned like acid in his gut. The idea that Ortega used his interest in Ariana as a distraction to connive with someone within Andrade’s organization to weaponize the Ebola virus. This was completely opposed to his goal of developing a vaccine.

  Andrade might be one of the world’s richest men. Clothed in Armani, with a fleet of expensive cars, planes, and yachts at his disposal, people seemed to forget that he was born forty-two years ago in the slums of Rio De Janeiro. He scraped his way to the top and his rise had not been easy. Nor had it been bloodless.

  His phone lit up from the number he was expecting.

  “Ortega is dead,” the voice said.

  He closed his eyes. That meant they didn’t have Ariana. “Where is she now?”

  “Lost track of her. She disappeared with Ortega’s lieutenant.”

  “The biker?”

  “Yes. We think he’s undercover for the CIA.” This was not ideal as he had enough problems of his own as he tried to find the traitor in his organization—a business empire consisting of fifty pharmaceutical companies scattered all over the globe and twice as many research labs. And when he found the person responsible, there would be retribution in the only way he knew.

  “Any news on Claudette?”

  “They’re about to arraign her on kidnapping charges.”

  He waited to feel some regret, but he felt nothing. Andrade had a fondness for the blonde. She was ambitious and her ruthlessness was amusing, but he wondered if she was complicit in Ortega’s betrayal.

  “What do you want me to do, boss?”

  “Keep looking for her.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Andrade ended the call and stared at the sea again.

  Ariana would regret not coming to him of her own free will. She would soon find out that with her brother dead, she was unprotected. And what was once off limits for the cartels would now be a free-for-all.

  He always had a backup plan.

  It was a sunny day in Los Angeles. The sky was surprisingly clear of smog, allowing its deep blue to serve as a magnificent backdrop to the stunning landscape of Forest Lawn Memorial Park. Overlooking the Valley and Burbank, the cemetery was far from a depressive park. No headstones stood over the graves. In their stead were flattened markers, which allowed the tall trees, rolling hills, and beautiful statuaries to memorialize a person’s life. The developer of Forest Lawn wanted to dispel the somberness typical of graveyards and make it a joyous sanctuary for a loved one’s final journey.

  “Park under that tree,” Gabby told Declan. The last time she was here was during Peter’s funeral. That was a month ago. The days following Ortega’s demise, more details started to trickle in regarding his beef with her father. The pictures of Theo found in Ortega’s house indicated the enmity between Ortega and Peter escalated in the last year. There was also a scathing note from Ortega found in Peter’s desk. It seemed Ariana lost a few key clients in her business and it was because of Peter. Gabby knew her father had influential friends among the Hollywood elite and maybe that was why Ortega didn’t make his move until now. Until he snapped.

  “Ready, Angel?” Declan prodded, cutting through her thoughts of the revelations that led her here.

  Gabby smiled at him. “Ready.”

  They both exited the SUV and, hand in hand, made their way up the slope, and passed several graves neatly arranged in a row on the grass, until they stopped in front of the one they sought.

  Declan took his place behind her, hugging her close, resting his chin beside her temple and giving her strength for this moment.

  “Hello, Peter,” Gabby whispered. As soon as she said her father’s name, her chest contracted with her repressed emotions. “I’m sorry it took me a while to get back to you.” Her voice cracked. “But here I am now. I hope it’s not too late.

  “First of all, we got him. The bastard who murdered you,�
�� she spoke the words fiercely. “He fell on his own sword, his own machinations. He pissed off the wrong people. But I say good riddance.”

  “Gabby …” Declan gave her a squeeze, reminding her what this moment was all about. Healing from their past.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t email you back,” she continued. “Answer your calls or return your voicemails and texts. Maybe I was too busy, maybe I didn’t think I could ever forgive you, and maybe, I thought … I thought I had more time.” Her voice broke as tears tracked down her cheeks in an uncontrollable rush. Needing a moment as the waves of grief crashed into her, she turned and buried her face in Declan’s chest, sobbing while he just held her.

  “Pete, man,” Declan said as she cried silently. “Thanks for finding me. Guess Yara’s popularity had its advantages after all, and you saw my ugly mug online the one time I was her bodyguard.” He gave a brief chuckle. “Kade finally came clean and told me that you suspected you were in danger and if anything happened to you to make sure I was there to protect Theo and Gabby. Although, in case you hadn’t noticed, your daughter is pretty badass herself.” He paused for a beat to give her a kiss on the crown of her head. “We never saw eye to eye, but I finally understood that you always wanted what was best for Gabby. What you thought at least. I won’t lie, it made me bitter, but after hearing what you have done to bring us back together, I wish …” he exhaled a puff of air. “I wish we’d gotten to share a beer.”

  Gabby snorted through her sobbing. She glanced up and stared into his green eyes and gave him a light peck on the mouth before she turned around and faced Peter’s grave again. “Dad,” she said, releasing what felt like a cleansing breath. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for Theo.” Her chest felt lighter, and yet something different weighed on it. A good feeling. Her love for her father rekindled in a big way. “Despite his spoiled upbringing, I think you’d love the man he’s turning out to be. He wanted me and Declan to do this on our own.” A brief smile touched her lips. “We’ll come visit soon. All three of us.”

  “I’ll take care of them, Pete,” Declan added. “I swear on my life. They’ll be protected.”

  I forgive you, Dad. Rest in peace.

  33

  Two weeks later

  “Dec, come here a sec.”

  Gabby’s voice distracted his attention from a box of Theo’s belongings. How could a teenager pack so much shit for a two-month stay at his mom’s apartment?

  He lowered said box to the dining table and headed her direction down the hallway into Theo’s room. There was a smirk on her face and Declan couldn’t help chuckling. It was hard for her to shed the older-sister inclination to pick on a younger sibling, and Theo didn’t seem to need mothering. As for his relationship with his son, they’d formed a closer bond ever since the fight scene choreography session helped Theo defend himself against Ortega’s goon.

  “’Sup?” Declan asked.

  Gabby was standing beside a full-size bed. Theo was struggling to pull the fitted sheet over.

  “Take our picture,” she said, plopping across its surface and posing like a pinup girl.

  “No fucking way,” Theo growled. “And would you please stand up. It’s hard enough yanking this fucking sheet on it as it is.”

  “Such language,” Gabby clucked, but made no move to oblige him and continued her pose with an elbow propping her up, hand under her chin.

  “Do as you’re told, kid. What did I tell you? Happy mom, happy us.” Declan whipped out his phone and framed the photo. “Say cheese.”

  Gabby smiled wildly.

  Theo glowered.

  Snap.

  “Let me look.” Gabby jumped off the bed and glanced at the screen. “Send me the rest of the photos, okay? I’ll have Nadia print them.”

  “There are online printing services, you know.” Theo tugged at a corner of the bed.

  “Too risky. Before you know it, some tabloid will be running these pictures as a front-page headline,” Gabby said.

  Theo straightened and looked green around the gills.

  “Oh, I don’t know, Angel, might improve his image, gain him more fans,” Declan drawled. “Girls swoon over all this domesticated male shit.”

  Gabby rolled her eyes. “How many boxes are still in the Honda?”

  “Two,” Declan answered.

  “Jeez, Theo, did you haul in your entire Beverly Hills crap?”

  “Told you it’d be easier if you moved into your mansion,” the teenager replied. “We could fit your entire apartment four times over and then some.”

  “Quit grumbling and man up,” Gabby retorted. “Use this as a learning experience … what’s the term they use nowadays? Method acting?”

  “Do you even know what that means?”

  “Theo,” Declan cut in. “Why don’t you help me bring in the rest of the boxes before you and your mom end up in an argument?” There were times when their bickering devolved into hurt feelings and exploded in temper. Usually the teenager’s.

  “Good idea, Dad,” Gabby said, deadpan.

  Declan pointed a stern finger at her, trying hard not to grin. “You. Stop giving Theo a hard time before he changes his mind and says fuck it with the whole thing.”

  “That’s right,” Theo muttered.

  “Come on, sport.” He slung an arm around his son’s shoulder and together they left the room.

  “You know we could’ve hired movers, right?” Theo said. “Normal people also do that. Movers aren’t the sole domain of rich teen actors.”

  “What? That’s the thanks I get for rescuing you from your mother?”

  Theo chuckled. “You know Gab and I are just messing around right? Old habits die hard.”

  “Tell me that when you give her the sullen teenager treatment after one of your so-called messing around arguments.”

  By this time, they were walking out the door when Declan’s phone buzzed.

  It was Kade.

  “Yo,” he answered.

  “Yo?” Kade chuckled. “Hanging around your son too much?”

  Declan motioned for Theo to go ahead, handing him the SUV keys, to which the teenager gave an exaggerated sigh, but took them anyway.

  He followed more slowly. “You could say that.”

  “How’s fatherhood?”

  “Thankful I don’t have to change diapers which I hear you’ll be doing soon. Congratulations, man! Heard Yara’s pregnant.”

  “Thanks, we’re ah … excited,” Kade swore softly. “I hope I don’t mess this up. Any advice?”

  Declan barked a laugh. “Not sure I’m the one to ask. My boy came to me fully grown with an attitude to match. He may look like me, but he’s got a lot of Gabby in him.”

  “How’s she adjusting?”

  “Great, given the circumstances. Less than a year and he’ll be eighteen. He’s level-headed most of the time. Gabby and I are just making sure this experience with Ortega won’t scar him for life.”

  Declan paused above the parking space where Gabby’s Honda was located and watched Theo approach it. The kid glared at him and threw up his hands as if saying “Are we doing this or what?”

  “He and Emma are seeing a shrink. Saving his mom and Emma’s lives makes shooting the man more acceptable in his mind.” By this time Theo was at the Honda, leaning against it making no move to haul out the boxes by himself.

  This kid.

  “Listen, I gotta go help my boy move in. I guess you were returning my voicemail?”

  “Yeah,” Kade answered. “Garrison mentioned the counterterrorism task force, but are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

  “Yup. Me being able to move within the Hollywood circuit without raising questions would give me leverage. Levi was thinking the same thing since he’s getting offers from several film studios for fight training and choreography.”

  “Does he want to go freelance?”

  “Nah, we talked about it before he left to see his kids. I think since Garrison wants us on the task
force it’d be a good cover to continue being employed by ESS. It’ll put us in line with Gabby’s suggestion of using us as consultants for the LAPD’s own task force that’s being formed.”

  “I thought she and her partner were suspended.”

  Declan winced at the reminder. “Yeah, for four months—no pay.” Neither Garrison nor Chen could do anything because of the media circus that followed the explosion at Route 15. He blew out a breath. “It’s a blessing in a way. Gives Gabby time to connect with Theo.” And me.

  “Gotcha.”

  “Are we doing this or not?” Theo hollered from the parking lot.

  “Was that Theo?” Kade chuckled as Declan started walking along the open corridor of the second level and then down the steps to head into the parking lot.

  “The one and only,” he muttered.

  “I’ll let you go—”

  “Kade,” Declan interrupted.

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks again for Peter.”

  “Happy it worked out for the best.”

  “It did.”

  “Call me when you’re on this coast, okay?”

  “Will do.”

  Declan purposely slowed his strides and his boy shot him a self-deprecating grin as he bleeped the locks and opened the tailgate.

  “Hold on a sec,” Declan said.

  Theo straightened from picking up a box and arched a brow questioningly.

  “I got you out here for another reason and you’re probably better at this shit than I am.”

  “You’re asking Gabby to marry you again.”

  “What?” Declan muttered. “You’re psychic now or something?”

  “You’ve got the look.”

  His brows drew together. “The look?”

  “Puppy dog eyes, following Gabby around. It’s sickening if it wasn’t so funny.”