by Gemma Hart
“But he’s so far away,” she said softly. “You can’t even visit him regularly.”
“But they have some of the best therapists for someone like him.”
Her brow creased. “Someone like him?” she asked, confused. “A crime lord’s son?”
“A paraplegic.”
Halle’s mouth dropped open.
“The shots severed his spine,” I explained. “He’ll never walk again.”
A son crippled by his own fucking father. The blood of many were on Roy Desmond’s hands but the blood that shone the darkest was the blood of his youngest child.
A silence of rage, confusion, fear, doubt, horror mingled between us. No words were said as we were left to our own thoughts.
When I stood up, Halle nearly jumped in surprise, so lost in her own thoughts she had been.
I headed towards the door but before I could leave, Halle called out, “Wait.”
I turned.
She raised those luminous eyes towards me. “Why did you tell me this?” she asked. “Why…” she paused, struggling to explain her confusion. “tell me this?”
I pressed my lips, considering. Then gave a casual shrug. I had wondered that as well.
“Maybe,” I said slowly, “I just wanted someone to know.” I looked over her heart shaped face enveloped in a cascade of blonde waves. “Maybe I just wanted to make sure someone knew about me and my brother….In case.”
“In case what?” Halle pressed.
There was a lot of risk ahead. A lot of danger. I had to tread lightly but even with careful footing, there could still be problems. Fatal problems. I had no guarantees anything was going to work.
All I could do was try.
“Just in case,” I said giving her a smile.
Halle stared at me, clearly worried and confused.
When I reached the doorway, she called out again.
“Wait, Marco,” she said.
I turned once more.
She paused, biting her lip. Finally she asked, “What’s your brother’s name?”
I paused. “Jamie,” I answered. “His name is Jamie.”
Chapter Fifteen
Halle
“You’re telling me after living under the same roof as the man for weeks, you have nothing new to tell us about Marco Desmond?” Agent Truman demanded, flabbergasted.
I nodded my head firmly. “He is very suspicious of others and stays to himself a lot. I would draw a lot of suspicion if I were to continually approach him on my own.”
Agent Truman and Hadfield stared at me through their computer camera.
I sat still on my bed, keeping my face as calm as possible.
Of course I had learned a lot about Marco Desmond. More than I had ever even thought possible.
The memory of Jamie and the pain on Marco’s face as he spoke of his brother crossed my mind.
But there was a deep, gut feeling that told me none of that should be revealed to the FBI. Firstly, Jamie had nothing to do with the Juarez deal. And after hearing about how much the younger Desmond son had suffered, there was no way that I was no going to risk having him suffer more by possibly losing his only brother.
But besides Jamie, everything else I’d learned about Marco seemed un-shareable.
That was silly, obviously. I was an FBI agent sent undercover to do exactly that—dig up facts on Marco Desmond and try to lure him into giving away important details on the upcoming deal.
But the more time I spent with Marco Desmond, the more I realized that there was something more to this man than his reputation. He wasn’t just brute force or schmoozing womanizer.
He was sharp, he was calculating, he was rough, he was protective, he was seductive, he was cool, he was powerful, he was tortured.
And he was mine.
The thought hit me like a cold waterfall. But the words rang true as a clear bell in my heart.
I didn’t know when it happened but I found myself slowly claiming the ruthless hitman as my own. He was mine and I refused to put him up as bait for the FBI. He was a Desmond, true, but he was not Roy Desmond. He was not the cruel monster his father was.
Marco had literally been beaten into the killer he was today and for the most part, the only reason why he remained a member of the Desmond Mafia was for Jamie.
I had come into this case, expecting to sift through details like they were a matter of black or white decisions. But instead I had fallen into a world of gray and I realized there was a richer world here in the middle than there was in the extremes.
The middle was where all the heartache and pain and love and warmth came from.
Agent Hadfield did his best to give me a once-over through the camera. “I really thought we had picked a good candidate for this job,” he said, clearly referring to my looks. I didn’t even sigh. I was too inured to these comments by now. “It’s disappointing but I guess that’s what we get for not sending in a real field operative.”
I bit my lip. That one stung.
I had really wanted to prove myself on this mission. I still did. The image of my father floated in my head, the proud FBI agent of nearly two decades. But I couldn’t compromise my own values to do so.
I knew, instinctually, that turning Marco over was not right. The clipped tones in Agent Hadfield and Truman’s voices spoke to me of their lack of understanding. They were two people who only saw in black and white. There was no gray to them.
“I can tell you though that Roy Desmond has opened up an account book for me that is in relation to the upcoming deal,” I said. “Half the accounts are based overseas and the other half domestic, all hidden and weaved through their multiple holdings. I can make copies of the records once the money comes in.”
Agent Truman sighed, raking a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but unable to deny the huge piece of evidence I was offering them. Finally he threw his head back and expelled a huge breath.
“Fine! Whatever!” he said, throwing up his hands.
I winced as his loud voice reverberated in my headphones. Although I was sure no one could hear me in my room, I lowered the volume nonetheless. It would be a death penalty if I got caught speaking with the Feds in Roy Desmond’s own house.
“We have our own good leads anyway to work on,” Agent Truman continued.
That threw me. “What leads?” I asked. I was the only field operative on this case as far as I knew.
Agent Hadfield raised a bushy brow at me. “You didn’t think we’d put all our faith in some rookie blonde, did you?” he said, his voice dripping with condescension.
I bit my lip, trying not to explode with rage at the injustice I was receiving from my own team. By this measure, the Desmonds were treating more fairly than the FBI.
“We had a man get in on the inside of the Juarez Family a few months ago,” Agent Hadfield continued. “He’s been giving us regular updates and has been moving up into the inner circles.” He put a hand on his chin, staring at me regardingly. “And only a rookie agent as well,” he added pointedly.
The comparison was clear.
I was the blonde bimbo fuckup. This new guy was the rookie success story with the massive balls to prove it.
“He has information on the deal?” I asked, swallowing the blow to my pride.
“Yes, he does,” Agent Truman said. “He’s also been able to give some good nudgings to the right people so that the deal goes through smoothly. He’ll be with them when they arrive in the States to close.”
“He knows the date? There’s a date?” I asked, surprised. Holy shit, this was the big moment. This was it. This was what the whole operation was about.
Then it hit me in a sudden wave.
This would be the end of anything I had with Marco Desmond. Whatever it was—attraction, lust, longing—it would all be over after the bust. He would know who I really was and who I worked for. And I just couldn’t imagine he would be too pleased to learn the truth.
“Yes, he’s a hardworking agent,
” Agent Truman said, unable to help himself from throwing another barb at me.
“In two weeks. Operation Raven will be a go. You’ll be notified once our men are in place for the raid. You are to stay at your location until we have escorted you out. Understood?” Agent Hadfield looked at me through the camera.
I nodded. “Understood,” I said. As an accounts manager, I would not be accompanying the Desmond Mafia to the deal. I was expected to just manage the books and funds. Once the bust happened, the FBI will probably send a team to the Desmond Family compound to round up any lingering members and to escort me out.
And that would be the end of it.
That would be the end of my mission.
And the end of my time with Marco.
I was about to shut my laptop when Agent Truman piped up again, asking in a casual offhand voice, “Oh and one more thing, Agent Margot. Do you happen to know if there have been any changes in the holdings for Marco Desmond?”
Something cold slipped down my back.
Were they asking about the transfer of holdings that Roy had requested of her? They had asked about Marco’s holdings once before but now to ask again….There was no reason to.
This had no bearing on the Juarez deal. I should know. I worked in fraudulent accounting before being assigned to this case.
Why were they so interested in Marco’s holdings?
“No,” I said, truthfully. Marco had been assigned some jobs that had kept him away. There had been moments that I could’ve broached the subject again but I hadn’t. The paperwork had been drafted and everything was ready but I just hadn’t said the words to him yet.
And now I wondered if that was maybe a good thing.
“Oh,” Agent Truman said, his face showing some confused disappointment. “Fine then. Till next time, Agent Margot.”
The line went dead.
Chapter Sixteen
Marco
“And how’d you find our old friend, Lloyd Pratchett?” Roy asked as he blew out a thick funnel of smoke.
I snorted. “Who cares how I found him? When I left him, he had a bullet in his head. That do you?”
Roy gave a husky laugh. Smoke billowed out from his nose and his gold teeth glimmered in the dim light of his office as he laughed.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, that’d do me.”
Roy gestured towards the leather chairs across from his desk. “Take a seat,” he said.
The last thing I wanted to do was take a seat and lengthen any amount of time I had to spend with the man but having no choice, I took a seat. I crossed one leg on my thigh and stared at the man who had given me the miraculous chance at life and then had shit on every moment of it once I had been born.
“The Juarez deal will be happening soon,” he said, taking in another draw of his stubby cigar. “Once it closes, that means there’ll be more work to do than ever before.”
I sat quietly, waiting for the rest of his point.
“Maybe you’d want to try your hand down south?” Roy said, staring at me through his cold hooded eyes. “There’ll be plenty of room for growth.”
I pressed my lips together. Go down south where I’ll be surrounded by none of my men? What kind of fuckwit did he take me for?
“Too sunny,” I said casually. “I might get sunburnt.”
Roy huffed a laugh but his eyes were sharp and they were pinned right on me. “Well where do you want to go?” he asked.
As far away from you as fucking possible.
I shrugged. “Trying to get rid of me now, are you?” I said lightly but leveling him with my own gaze.
Roy’s lips curled up. “Now why would you say something like that?” he said as if hurt by words. “I’m just making sure that boy is taken care of and doesn’t do something stupid.” He paused to take a deep draw on his cigar. “I hear England has pretty shitty weather.”
My spine jolted as if I had been electrocuted but I kept my face clean of emotion. Roy spoke as if he had said something completely ordinary. “Pretty shitty,” I echoed without much rancor. He couldn’t possibly fucking know. There was no way.
Roy shrugged. “And the women there are supposedly fucking ugly as shit,” he said, smoke crawling out of his lips. “Shitty weather and ugly bitches—what’s the point there then, eh?”
I shrugged before letting out an impatient sigh. “Did you call me in here just for a geography lesson on where the sun and pretty bitches are?”
“I’d think you’d want to touch bases with me now and then,” Roy said expansively. “After all, you’re going to be leading this Family one day.”
“So you want to give me a preapproved list of where I should and shouldn’t go then?” I said evenly, definitely not liking this conversation.
Roy raised a brow. “I think as a Desmond, you’d want to do go where it was best for the Family,” he countered.
Where it was best for the Family….
And had it been the best for Jamie when he had been thrown in, completely untrained, into a dangerous operation where he had been shot and paralyzed?
He didn’t mean family. He meant Family. And by Family, Roy really meant himself. Everything operated so that it was best for Roy Desmond.
So why this sudden conversation of sending me away? Where was it that he wanted me to go? Where would I best serve the “Family”?
“I want you to come with me for the Juarez deal,” Roy said coolly.
I stared at him. What the hell? We never went to major deals together. That was protocol. Just like the President and Vice President don’t travel together, Roy and me were never in high stakes arenas together.
And that Juarez deal was as high stakes as it got.
Plus, the night of the deal was my shot. It was my shot to put my plan in action and finally leave this hellhole behind for good. It was my shot to try and lead a more normal life and to give Jamie a chance at life without the shadow of Roy Desmond hanging overhead.
“Why?” I asked. Roy was a highly suspicious and paranoid man. He would never make any kind of sudden or haphazard decision.
Roy shrugged. “It’s time you got your hands dirty,” he said, grinning. As if the blood my hands were soaked in wasn’t enough. “You need to be shown as the man next in line to move up. I’m getting too old to keep fucking around like this.”
I made no response but only watched the man carefully. As much as I hated to admit it, I was my father’s son and suspicion ran in my blood. Why the hell would he suddenly decide to take me out to the deal? If anything, I felt like he had purposely been keeping most of the details of the major deal vague in front of me, keeping me in the dark.
Roy watched me under his hooded eyes as he puffed on his cigar. He gave me a toothy smile.
“Don’t feel like leaving that pretty little accountant yet, eh?” Roy graveled.
It took a little more effort this time but I kept my face neutral despite feeling that cold sting of surprise.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I said in flippant irritation.
Roy nodded knowingly. “She’s definitely a piece, I’ll give you that. I’ll give you that.” He puffed on his cigar. “But is that ass so sweet, it’s worth risking your inheritance? Your place in the Family?”
What the fuck was he honestly talking about now? Was Roy actually thinking about stepping down? Roy was old but there was no way his greed and cruelty had diminished any with age. If anything, they’ve only grown. I couldn’t imagine him even considering retirement.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I said, making the motions to get ready to leave. “I’m not going to that deal. That was your idea, your planning. You go close it.”
As I almost reached the door, Roy called out, “What’s best for the Family. That’s what’s important. For the good of the Family.”
My jaw tightened in response and my entire back stiffened but I walked out, letting the door slam behind me.
Fuck this Family.
Chapter Seventeen
Marco
Walking out of Roy’s office, the tension was rippling off my shoulders. I could literally feel myself just shaking in anger and disgust at having to be in close quarters with that piece of shit excuse of a man.
I marched down the hall, intending to head back to my room when I stopped halfway. There was no way I could just sit in a room right now. I needed to do something. I needed to release this burning anger within me.