by Nana Malone
The problem was that I was on the exact opposite end of the hotel that I needed to be, and there were lots of places to be snatched into dark alleyways.
Stop thinking so much and run. I could hear the soft padded footsteps behind me getting closer and closer, and I didn't know what to do. Up ahead I saw the waifish dishwater-blond maid that had helped me with cleaning up one of the spills during setup. "Hi. Amanda, right?"
"Oui, madam. What is it you need?"
"This man—" I turned around, and he wasn't there. "What? I—"
"Madam? Are you okay?" Her French accent sounded like a song in my ears.
"Oh my God, I must seem like a crazy person."
"Madam, are you all right? Do you need to sit down?"
"No, I'm fine. I'll probably just go to my room and relax."
Had I imagined that? Had he been chasing me at all? My mind conjured up all the ways this could be like the last time I saw things that weren’t there.
“Are you sure?”
"I'm so sorry. I'm just going to go."
She nodded. "Yes, of course, madam."
Blindly, I rounded the corner and ran smack dab into the Cheshire Cat grin and muscle of the man in the hall. "Now, love, where do you think you're going?"
With a squeak, I whipped around, turned, and darted to the next doorway, which pitched me into darkness.
Oh fuck, stairwell.
I ran and grabbed the next door I could find that was open. And what do you know, I was in the parking garage.
Still I could hear the steps behind me. "Sweetheart, I'm just trying to have a conversation with you."
Yeah right, conversation. Which would have me dangling from his hands as he strangled me to death. Hell. No. I had to hide. I dragged off my shoes and tucked them under my arm. Hide. Hide. Hide. Where was I going to hide?
There were several cars around me, and I tried different handles. These cars were insanely fancy. Maseratis, BMWs, Mercedes. None of them had their doors unlocked of course.
As I ducked between the cars, I could hear shuffling on the pavement. And then there was talking. "Yeah, it’s her all right.”
I was thankful my feet were bare, but also not thankful because, ewww. I was having a full-on Britney Spears moment right now. I stayed low and kept duck-walking amongst different cars, trying to see if one would just open so that I could squeeze in and slide in the backseat to hide and lock the doors behind me. But of course they were all locked tight.
My only opportunity was a white cargo van. When I tried the handle, I said a silent prayer of gratitude when it opened. Quietly, I closed it behind me, holding it tightly shut with everything that I had.
All I had to do was stay hidden. Stay quiet. I would be okay.
But then the van started to move.
Oliver
Liam nudged my shoulder as we drove from the Kensington property to the harbor in Monaco. "What gives, Ollie?"
I shrugged. "It's fine." Things were far from fine. Where the fuck had Rian gone? What had she heard? I didn’t want her to be afraid, but all I had to offer Liam was ’fine.’
He laughed. "Right. That's you. Everything's fine. Never showing your emotion, no feelings, just ‘fine.’"
"What do you want me to say, I'm worried about Rian? Fine, I’m bloody worried. You didn’t have to scare her."
He sighed. "I liked it better when you were taciturn."
I shrugged. "Fuck off."
He wove the van through the traffic. I was lucky that he and Alex had insisted on tagging along because I would have been a bloody disaster on my own. Instead of liberating a car in Monaco, Alex had pulled strings to borrow one from a friend, so he was following in that. As Liam drove, I was calibrating the copying device. In the back of the van, we had tools to mask our escape. A sticker for the van. A special spray that would peel the paint off once it was mixed with water. Everything was set. I just had to walk onto Colton Cox’s yacht and get near enough to clone his phone in order to erase my brother’s million-quid debt.
“I’m sorry I freaked her out okay? I tried talking to her, and she bolted. Did you try and call her?”
“And say what? No, I'll call her when this is over. Explain it to her. Maybe she'll listen.” Unlikely, but I could hope.
Liam tried again tried to reason with me. “Remind me again why we're not telling Ben, Bridge and East about all this? Isn't this exactly the kind of shit we're supposed to tell them about?”
“I read the bylaws, just like you. This kind of crap means I’d never make it past neophyte. And I have a family to take care of. But once I do this, I'm done. My past is gone. Wiped clean. The last thing I want to do is jeopardize everything I've been working for.” I tried to loosen the tension in my jaw to no avail.
For the rest of the drive to Monaco harbor, we mostly went over the plan and made sure I knew everything by heart. Alex would be on comms in the van, and Liam would be my additional eyes on the yacht.
Colton Cox was a notorious gambler, and he'd bet on anything. He'd bet your dog was cuter than his, or whatever, and get some arbitrary person to pick. He would lose enormous sums, millions in an afternoon, and think nothing of it, but he won as often as he lost. He didn’t care one way or the other because it was about the thrill for him. The game. The gamble. The risk. He wasn't even angry when he lost.
When we arrived at the harbor, I went to the side of the van and opened it, and a startled yelp surprised me. What surprised me more was how quickly my palm went around to the weapon at the small of my back and pulled it out.
Looks like you have more in common with your brother than you thought.
I’d never fired the gun. Never intended to. But I did know how to use it.
The problem was, I knew exactly what was in the back of my van. And it was an unwelcome sight. The brunette woman jumped up into a kneeling crouch, hands up to protect her face. "I have Mace, and I'm not afraid to use it."
Rian.
Holy fucking shit.
Eighteen
Oliver
This can’t be happening.
But even as I stared into Rian’s wide dark eyes and took in her tousled hair, I knew that this was, in fact, happening. I’d done my best to keep her away from any of this, to keep her from finding out who I really was. And now I had to face her and look her in the eye with all my lies laid bare in front of her.
"Rian."
She climbed out. "Let me go, or I swear to God I will scream."
I put up my hands. "Rian, it's me, Calm down."
"Calm down?” Her eyes went so wide I feared they’d pop out of her head. “You kidnapped me."
Liam stepped forward, and she scuttled back, raising her Mace higher. We did not have time for this. I turned to Liam and put a hand on him. "Stop it, Liam. You're freaking her out."
"Jesus Christ, I'm not going to hurt her."
Rian wasn’t buying it. "The hell you aren't. You chased me." She waved the Mace even higher.
Liam was losing his patience. "Not to hurt you. Jesus. I only chased you to bring you back to the room and hold you there until Ollie was done."
"Newsflash, that's kidnapping."
Liam threw up his hand. "Mate, you don't have time for this. The clock is ticking. We need to get you on that yacht."
I ran my hands through my hair. "Rian, I'm sorry."
Her gaze darted to mine and held, and I could see the full force of her anger. And fuck, was that disappointment? "You.” She jabbed me in the chest. “You lied."
"I did. I'm sorry. But I don't really have a choice right now, and like it or not, I need your help."
"My help?” she screeched incredulously. ”After you kidnapped me and brought me to—" She glanced around. “Where the fuck are we?”
I considered lying but I didn’t. “Monaco Harbor. You were right. This whole thing has to do with Max. It’s a long story.”
Her brows lifted and then dropped again. "Max. Fucking Max. I knew it. I knew it. And you looked m
e in the eyes and told me that I was imagining things. God, Ollie. After everything that happened, you got involved with Max again?"
"I don't have time for this, Rian. I am sorry, and you were right. I fucked up and got caught in his bullshit again. I did. But at the end of the day, I don't really have any choice. So you can help me, or I'm toast. I have exactly twelve minutes to get on that yacht. So, what's it going to be?"
She glowered at Liam and then looked over my shoulder at Alex and cocked her head. "I liked you."
Alex grinned. "Most people like me."
“Asshole.”
He chuckled.
She scowled and pointed at me. "I'm not breaking the law for you."
I shook my head. "You don't need to do anything except say a couple of lines in front of Colton Cox."
"That's all you need from me?"
I nodded, hoping that would be enough. The plan hinged on me being close enough to Colton Cox for my device to copy his phone. And I would need about ten to fifteen minutes for the download to finish. If we were playing a game, gambling, that would take care of itself. But the secondary goal was to also get the money just in case I couldn’t successfully copy the phone. If it worked, I'd wire the money back to Cox. After all, I didn't want his money.
After stewing on what I’d said for a few seconds, Rian said, "I don't want any part of this."
"If I don't do this, some very bad men are going to hurt Tessa."
Her eyes went wide. "You're serious?"
"Max owes this guy a fuck ton of money. Then he skipped town. I’m on the hook for it.”
"Fucking Max." She muttered.
"Oh trust me, I agree. Fucking Max indeed. So will you help me, or won't you? Because right now, I've got no other options."
"What do I have to do?"
"It's easy. Liam was going to come in with me but since you're here and already dressed for glamour…" I said that as I once again took in her knee-length cocktail dress that was silky and beaded in the front with fringe hanging off. It was cut low in the back, and the vermilion red showcased the natural tan in her skin. She looked like a million quid, and she was exactly what I needed. She'd be even more of a distraction than Liam. "It's easy, you just have to say three things. Stick to me and do not leave my side. Do you understand?"
She swallowed hard and glowered at Liam. "Are these people dangerous?"
I nodded. "Without a doubt."
She blinked. "I need a minute."
"We don't have a minute, Rian. Either you're with me or you're not." I didn't want to push her. I really didn't because, God, I was dragging her kicking and screaming into this bullshit. But I needed her help.
"Cool your tits. I need to fix my fucking makeup."
I blinked. The cooling sense of relief in my veins brought down my body temp by degrees. She was going to help me. Even after I’d lied to her and basically gaslighted her. She was still going to help me?
Yeah, because she's better than you deserve.
I was well aware I didn't deserve her. Not that her helping me was in any way an indication that we were going anywhere. But the relief that flooded my body was palpable. I felt loose and wobbly, and I thought maybe I needed to sit down.
She climbed out of the back of the van without any assistance from any of us, because the way she was scowling at Liam, I was pretty sure she was going to hit him with her shoe.
She sat on the edge of the van, opened her clutch, pulled out a little compact, and then did something to under her eyes that made her suddenly look brighter and more alert. And then she blotted her nose and applied more lipstick. When she was done with that she slipped on her shoes. "Where's this fucking yacht?"
Alex checked his watch. "We've got ten minutes."
"Where?" she asked.
I pointed down the hillside toward the marina. "There. This is just a staging area. Alex and Liam will be in the van on comms. I have passes to get us in."
Liam crossed his arms. "You better be worth it. I'm missing out on a yacht for this."
She leveled her gaze over him once more. "You know, I don't think I like you."
He grinned. "I think I like you very much."
She harrumphed then took my hand. "If we only have ten minutes let's go. When this is over, you and I are done. No more. I'm done with your games and your lies. Done with you."
I knew that was the right move for her to keep her safe, to keep her out of my bullshit and Max's bullshit. It was exactly what I wanted for her. At the same time, it hurt. It really, really fucking hurt.
"Deal."
The ride down to the docks in the Maserati Alex had borrowed was better than anything I’d ever experienced in my life. I wasn’t even a gearhead, and I bloody loved it. I'd never driven anything like it before. The lads had told us about the kind of money that came with becoming one of the Elite. The first thing they took care of were your money issues, if you had any, but I’d never imagined that kind of luxury.
It was like winning the bloody lottery to be chosen, but getting in was torture. Historically they took boys from Eton and Harrow and the other posh boys schools that ended up at Oxford or Cambridge, and once everyone they took were sons of lords. But with Ben having taken over the organization, they were expanding. No more sons of lords, which I decidedly was not. Same for Alex. We weren’t aristocracy, but we were the picks for the next generation so to speak.
When we pulled up to the valet in front of the yacht, I took Rian’s hand, even though she tried to tug it out of mine. "Listen to me, when we get in, it'll be simple. When you're asked what you would like to drink, order two Fifth Avenues. You're going to order for yourself and me."
She wrinkled her nose. "What if I don't want to drink a Fifth Avenue?"
"That's not the point. The point is when we sit down at the card table and you're asked what drink, you want to say loudly enough but casually, two Fifth Avenues. Do you understand?"
She frowned but then nodded.
"And then, I've modified the script a little. You're going to wear this pendant."
She studied the little box that I was holding in front of her. "You had this already planned?”
I shook my head. "No. It was going to be a lucky charm that I fiddled with while I was playing poker. But now you can wear it around your neck."
"Fifty-five. Is that why the two Fifth Avenues?"
I nodded. "Yes. We're just subliminally planting information."
“And then what?” she asked.
“I have a plant in there already that will stage a bet. You're going to pick a number between one and a hundred and write it down. We'll both write down our numbers. The person closest to your number will win a million quid. All you have to do is write down the number seventy-six."
She frowned. "Not fifty-five?"
I shook my head. "No, not fifty-five. I'll guess seventy-two, and I'll be closest. The idea is to make Colton Cox guess fifty-five."
"You want him to lose."
I nodded. "He's a notorious gambler. He'll gamble on anything. On anyone. It doesn't matter."
"And so this number bet is rigged to beat him?"
"It'll be for fun, but it's the ruse. It's a distraction."
"Distraction from what?"
"You don't need to worry about what else I'm doing during that distraction." The less she knew the better.
"Ollie, I'm worried about this."
"Yeah, so am I. So am I."
"Are you going to tell me the exact trouble Max got you into?"
I shook my head. "No. Just know that I'm sorry that you're dragged into it. I really wish you weren't.”
"That makes two of us. But also, I really wish you weren't either." And she added more softly. "I wish you’d told me sooner."
That completely gutted me. Because it let me know that our kisses, those feelings, it had all been real. That explosion had been honest and raw and entirely us, and it was gone now. The heaviness weighed me down, and I wanted to roar and rage at the loss o
f it.
But how the hell was I going to mourn for something that was never mine in the first place?
Rian
My hands were sweating. I tried to loosen Ollie's grip on me, but he didn't let go and asked, "What's wrong?"
"Sorry if I'm just not as comfortable with pulling off a heist as you are."
"It's not a heist. You're not doing anything. You're legitimately going to a party and ordering two drinks. That's all you have to do."
"I just don't feel comfortable, Ollie."
"No one's asking you to feel comfortable. This was a last minute change, and I'd rather not use you either. But what am I supposed to do?"
He was kidding right? "Stop the madness. Don't do this. Do something else. Anything."
He shook his head. "This is the path I'm on, and we have to play it out."
I sighed. "You lied to me."
"Now is not the time for this."
"Oh right, after someone kills us, that's the right time?"
“Everything is going to be fine. All you have to do is order a couple of drinks and pick a number. That’s all."
"You make it seem so simple."
"That's because it is."
And then he tugged me forward. The valet had driven off with the flashy red Maserati, and I was walking into a lion’s den of people I didn't know, people I was pretty sure I couldn’t trust, and all I had for comfort was Ollie. Someone I’d thought I could care about but who had lied to me over and over and over again.
When we walked in, I wasn't sure exactly what to expect, but it was clear that this was a yacht with a capital Y. Polished wood, chandeliers twinkling and dangling, brass railings… This was every bit European elegance on display for fun.
Jesus. Who were these people?
Even though I knew Ollie's arm around me should in no way be a steadying influence, I nevertheless felt comforted by the way he held onto me, as if I was precious, as if I was his. As if I was someone to be cherished.
We marched in and there were beautiful women everywhere. Some were wearing next to nothing, practically bikinis. Some were in evening dresses full to the floor. Others, like me, wore cocktail attire. And the jewels. This was a diamond lover's paradise with everyone showing off their girl's best friends. It was stunning. The men were primarily in tuxedos, but there were a few who wore hyper-casual linen suits, and some even had shorts on. Maybe it showed that the richer you were, the less you gave a fuck? I didn’t know. As Ollie led us through the crowd, a man almost as tall as Ollie but not quite as broad in the shoulders came toward us. He was lean and handsome, and he grinned. "Ollie."