Carrera Cartel: The Collection
Page 111
Gritting my teeth, I relive the moment I stumbled into a nightmare. “Might I remind you that your agency came to me. It’s not like I had much choice in the matter.”
“Agent Schaeffer didn’t have authorization to conduct his own investigation. Least of all with you.”
He’s baiting me again. “Well, maybe you should take that up with him. Oh wait, you can’t can you?”
There’s a flicker of something in his dark gaze. Fear? Respect? Regret? I can’t get a read on it, and as quickly as it appears, it vanishes. “Agent Schaeffer’s actions were unsanctioned, but his intentions were honest. He was trying to save countless girls’ lives.”
Leaping out of my chair, I slam my palms on his desk. “What about mine, Carl?” The words taste as bitter as they sound.
His nostrils flare, and a vein pulses in his right temple. “It’s Section Chief Dunning, and take your seat, Miss Chernova.”
I freeze at his sharp tone, and the room spins. In a dark, hazy corner of my mind, another voice calls to me.
“Dostatochno! You should always think before you speak, pchelka. Either choose to fight battles or strategize to win wars but never underestimate your enemy.”
Even now, he commands, and I listen.
Drawing in a deep breath, I slowly exhale and lower myself into the chair. I’m calm now, a fact that should disturb me more than the reason I’m here.
“I didn’t have a choice,” I offer in a controlled tone. “I did what I had to do.”
He huffs, rubbing the pad of his thumb against his temple as his fingers fan against his face. “Offer yourself up as bait?”
I shake my head. “Offer intel. I just didn’t expect things to go quite left of center.”
“Left of center?” Wrinkles crease his forehead as he peers at me through an opening in his index and middle finger. “That’s what you call getting yourself kidnapped and starting a war this government has to clean up? A decorated FBI agent is dead because of you.”
He doesn’t have to remind me. I was there. The image is burned into my memory for eternity. Nothing will bring him back. Nothing will bring any of us back.
“Maybe you missed the part where I was enslaved and tortured, yet still managed to put an end to Niko Gaheris. You remember him, right—the other ambiguous unchecked box on your precious most wanted list?” Chief Dunning winces at the disgust in every word, and I’m glad. Relaxing my grip on the armrest, I manage a smirk. “Let me remind you again that I’m the victim here, so instead of berating me, maybe you should give me a medal.”
“For what? Taking off your clothes before taking his life?”
My heart slams against my chest, but I won’t react to his taunts. “I did what I had to do,” I repeat. “You weren’t there.”
“Good thing too. The only one who gave a damn to help you returned home in a box.”
I clear my throat. “Can we please stick to—”
“Frankly, Miss Chernova,” he yells, anger causing the vein in his temple to throb, “I have a hard time deciding what to do first—charge you with reckless endangerment, accessory to the murder of a federal agent, or just being a fucking pain in my ass.”
Strike one. Temper.
I gather my long red hair in one hand and drape it over my left shoulder. “Well, while you’re deciding, let me add one more charge to that list—collusion.”
Sweat beads above the chief’s black and gray eyebrows, and that flicker in his eyes returns. This time, I have no doubt what it means. Fear is raw and distinctive, a siren for darkness and a source of nourishment for the wicked.
“What have you done?” he whispers.
I smile and donate the bomb I’ve held quietly strapped to my chest. “Your job, sir.”
* * *
Get your copy of Darkest Deeds on Amazon.
(Darkest Deeds is a complete standalone set in the Cavalieri Della Morte world. You do NOT need to have read any books in the world to enjoy this story.)
Acknowledgments
I’ve run out of people to thank, so, thank you to Pinot Grigio for keeping my glass filled and my laptop from flying through the window. It was touch and go there for a while, but you believed in me. You were there for me. You encouraged me. But your ass gave me one hell of a headache, so you can sit in the back of the refrigerator and think about what you’ve done.
Catherine Wiltcher. I’m not even sure what to say at this point except that “person” who sprouted horns and a tail two days before deadline? That was my twin sister, Dora. We keep her in a kennel downstairs. Not sure how she got loose, but I apologize for the sixty-four messages she sent you at four a.m.
Seriously, Catherine, thank you so much for talking me through the two or twelve meltdowns I had during the writing of this novella weapon of mass destruction. As always, I am in awe of your talent and poetic words and am so grateful for your contribution to this work. Dante would’ve been a mere shadow of himself without you. I promise to never make you write another word in past tense. Now let’s spill some Bad Blood, CatCo!
A huge apology to my family for being MIA the last four years. In case you wondered, I was upstairs the whole time. Thanks to whoever brought me water, Cheetos, and Febreze.
Crystal, what can I say that I haven’t already said in nineteen acknowledgments? Thank you for not complaining when I asked you to Google things in the name of research that probably has both of us on some kind of FBI watch list. Thanks for always being by my side, for championing this series and for not being afraid to tell me when I’ve done your man wrong. Thanks to you, Val got his groove back. You are now and forever, Mrs. Valentin Carrera.
Thank you Ginger Snaps and Alina Kirshner for making me seem like I’m fluent in Spanish and Russian. Spoiler: I’m not. Because of them, Val’s and Ava’s dialects are authentic. These ladies are amazing and are my translation goddesses.
Thank you so much to KC Fernandez for your mad proofreading skills and your insane attention to detail. Simply put, you saved my ass. Not sure how I managed to rope you into my inner circle but good luck getting out of it now.
To my incredible beta team, Carrera’s Guerreras, thank you. You never complain when I roll in at the last minute with either a paragraph or seventeen chapters, or when I post them at two a.m. and type in all caps, WHERE ARE YOU because I forget that normal people sleep. Thank you for your love and support, and for telling me when something really sucks. Love you, Crystal, Sarah, Sienna, Ronda, Sarah, Sheri, Tami, KC, Tiffany, Amy, and Melissa.
To my editor, Mitzi Carroll, thank you for your dedication to this series and for always making room for me when the manuscript is a week later than I promised. Or three weeks. Um, or a month. What year is it?
Many thanks to Danielle Sanchez and the staff of Wildfire Marketing Solutions for your help with this release and for being my sounding board. I’m so blessed to be a part of your team.
Thank you to Marisa Wesley with Cover Me Darling, LLC for creating the most beautiful covers for this series. I love your face because you “get me.” Also because you haven’t blocked me on Facebook Messenger yet… Right?
To my reader group, Cora’s Alpha Addicts, thank you for being there every day to make me smile and give me the push I need to keep the words flowing. I couldn’t imagine the book world without you.
Mom, thank you for seeing the stars, grabbing one, and holding it for me until I believed in myself enough to know I belonged among them.
Lastly, to the bloggers and readers who have read and shared this series over the years, a very heartfelt thank you. As always, without you, I’m just a chick with a laptop.
About the Author
Cora Kenborn is a USA Today Bestselling author who writes in multiple genres from dark and gritty romantic suspense to laugh-out-loud romantic comedy. Known for her sharp banter and shocking blindsides, Cora pushes her characters and readers out of their comfort zones and onto an emotional roller coaster before delivering a twisted happily ever after.
&n
bsp; Cora believes there’s nothing better than a feisty heroine who keeps her alpha on his toes, and she draws inspiration from the sassy country women who raised her. However, since the domestic Southern Belle gene seems to have skipped a generation, she spends any free time convincing her family that microwaving Hot Pockets counts as cooking dinner.
Oh, and autocorrect thinks she's obsessed with ducks.
Author Library
CARRERA CARTEL TRILOGY
(Dark Mafia)
Blurred Red Lines
Faded Gray Lines
Drawn Blue Lines
Carrera Cartel: The Collection
CORRUPT GODS DUET
(Dark Mafia)
Bad Blood
Tainted Blood
LORDS OF LYRE DUET
(Rockstar Suspense)
Fame and Obsession
Fame and Secrets
STANDALONES
Starlet
Darkest Deeds
Shallow
Unsupervised
Midnight
Cursed In Love
SWAMP BOTTOM NOVELLA SERIES
(Southern Romcom)
Swamp Happens: The Complete Collection
Front Porches and Funerals
Voodoo and Vodka
Hook-ups and Hang-ups
Blue Lights and Boatmen
Pink Lines and Panic
Divorce and Denial
Warrants and Onesies
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