by L B Wyatt
Veronica’s smile wasn’t fake this time. “That sounds lovely. Thank you.”
Claude turned to the wall of beverages behind him and she admired the view in those black slacks. She wasn’t fooled, though. She knew Claude was more than just the bartender—he was a bouncer. There was no reason for such a swanky establishment to hire someone with tattoos who could lift a truck with his pinkie. He was here to keep trouble from ensuing, no doubt.
Claude turned back and placed her crystal wine glass, half full of the restaurant’s best Cabernet, on a delicate white napkin with a large monogrammed B in gold. Veronica let her eyes delay on the meaning of that for just a second before taking the glass and sipping. The hotel’s name sure as hell didn’t start with that letter.
“Thank you,” she whispered over the glass.
Claude grinned at her and she was impressed. He was one of the best-looking bartenders she’d ever come across. She sure hoped she wouldn’t have to kill him later.
“Enjoy,” he said, nodding his head at her and turning to address a flirtatious Saturday night couple who laughingly seated themselves at the end of the bar.
And so she waited.
Livi hadn’t told her the process after this. Veronica was in uncharted waters now. Whatever came next would be a complete surprise and she wasn’t wrong. Just as she placed her black clutch on the bar and opened it to check her phone, she heard a familiar voice behind her that caused her to pause in all her efforts.
“What are you doing, Veronica?”
She couldn’t move at first. The sound of the voice on something other than a telephone was such a shock, she was frozen, her hand halfway in her clutch and her eyes locked on the bar.
Aniya.
Veronica sat perfectly still, though her heart certainly wasn’t. It was beating fast and hard and she saw the outline of a woman sliding onto a barstool next to her. Slowly and carefully, Veronica turned her eyes.
Aniya didn’t look a thing like Veronica had always pictured. No, Aniya was older, probably in her late forties, but it was hard to say. Her smooth, dark skin hid the small imperfections caused by time. Her dark hair was pulled back and she was wearing a deep purple cocktail dress. Her dark lips were colored a rosy pink and her eyes behind large, horn-rimmed glasses were sharp and beautifully designed. She was gorgeous with an air of intimidating intellect. She was the whole package.
Veronica sat motionless, too stunned to speak. When Claude came over and asked Aniya for her order, she waved him away and then turned her focus back on Veronica.
“We’ve been trying to reach you,” Aniya stated the obvious.
Veronica was silent for at least a couple of minutes, just trying to wrap her mind around what was happening. She had worked for Arc and Aniya for nearly six years. During that time, no face-to-face contact had ever been made. It was only encrypted calls or emails. In fact, the agency was so secretive, Aniya would simply text Veronica a random location and time and when she would arrive there, the phone of the business would be ringing. They were so paranoid they didn’t even trust burner phones to conceal their conversations.
So why now?
Veronica took a long drink of her wine and sat it back down. About that time Claude, came back and took her unfinished glass. She was too caught up in this unexpected visit to protest that she wasn’t finished. In fact, she might have ordered something stronger if she’d had her wits about her. But she was struggling. It was an unfamiliar feeling. She prided herself on her confidence.
“I’ve been busy,” she managed to say in a soft voice.
It was Aniya’s turn to be quiet for a moment. “Why are you wasting your talents?” she demanded harshly.
Veronica felt the alarm from this impromptu visit igniting into a fiery rage. She wanted to lash out, to knock the woman off that stool and shake her until she spilled all the company’s dark secrets, but she couldn’t cause a scene. Not now when she was so close to catching another lead.
So Veronica sat there fuming. She was staring so hard at the tiny drink napkin, she wondered if it might catch fire with her glare.
“You used to bring down multimillion dollar corporations, Veronica. What happened?” she taunted. “You’ve cut off your nose to spite your face, you know?”
“I didn’t fire me,” she reminded Aniya.
“Arc didn’t either. You walked away, remember?”
“He all but said I was done. I certainly wasn’t going to stick around and beg him to forgive me,” she said bitterly.
“You broke protocol. You put yourself in danger. He was worried.”
That statement caused Veronica to laugh softly and shake her head. “Not possible.”
“He cares about you, Veronica. You’re always going to be a part of our team.”
“I’ve never been a part of anything in my life, Aniya. I won’t be fooled into thinking otherwise. I’ve been doing fine on my own, thank you. I don’t want your help and I certainly don’t need it.”
“Really?” Aniya asked sharply. “How’s your side healing up?” she wondered.
Her statement caused Veronica to move her gaze over slowly and lock eyes with the familiar stranger. “It was just a scratch,” she insisted defiantly.
“You would be dead in that stairwell if it wasn’t for us.”
Veronica had suspected as much. She knew there was no way she could have walked back to her apartment in that condition and survived.
“You called Harry?” she assumed.
“Yes, but I didn’t carry your ass up those stairs.” Aniya shook her head.
“Who?” Veronica lowered her brow in confusion. In all her time of working for the agency, she had only ever met one other Rogue and she was dead now. Veronica wasn’t even sure if men were employed by her old company, making her doubt that another female agent could have hauled her back to her apartment.
“Arc.”
Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened a trace. Something about that detail sent a jolt through Veronica. She had to look away to conceal the emotions that swept across her features. She had always been intrigued by Arc. Or maybe it was just the mystery that shrouded him. He had the power to draw emotions from within her she was ashamed of. Love wasn’t the right word.
Infatuation, maybe.
She knew it was stupid to think she could love someone she’d never met. Hell, she had never even heard his real voice. He could very well be an eighty-year-old pervert. Although, the fact he’d carried her lifeless body up six flights of stairs told her he wasn’t an old man…or an unfit one.
Veronica folded her hands on the bar in front of her. She hated having this information because it only further sucked her into the obsession toward her old boss she had never quite been able to shake. She had to remind herself of the traits she disliked about him and his organization.
The lies.
The deceit.
The unknown.
“No.” She refused to believe it. “He wouldn’t risk the exposure.” It made more sense that Aniya was fibbing to elicit a reaction from Veronica than to believe Arc would put himself on the line for her. Although, it would make sense that Aniya could have tapped into the security system in Veronica’s apartment building to cover up Arc’s actions. To protect him from the spotlight. They certainly had the resources for that and then some. She thought back on the bank sign and how easily they had changed it to send her a message. Tapping into an apartment complex’s crappy security system would be child’s play for a giant like Arc.
“We’re risking it now,” Aniya stated bluntly.
And they were, Veronica realized with some alarm. It was totally out of character for Aniya to reach out in person in such a precarious public place and be talking so openly about personal, private matters.
“Why are you really here?” Veronica asked deathly quiet.
“We need to talk.”
“About?”
“The Rogue.”
Veronica turned her eyes away at once.
“There’s nothing to say.”
“There’s plenty to say,” Aniya countered. “The last call from her phone was to your number.”
Veronica tried to flag Claude down for a drink. Now that she had overcome the shock of Aniya’s corporal appearance, she really did need something stronger to drink. But she didn’t see him and she frowned deeply. Unable to avoid the eyes on her, Veronica glanced sideways for a second.
“It’s none of your business,” she hissed.
“She was one of ours. It’s all my business.”
“The police didn’t say a word about her phone records to me,” Veronica said casually. And heaven knows if Quinn had known about it, he would have cuffed her and put her in a cell for questioning in a heartbeat.
“We changed them before police could run the records, Veronica,” Aniya stated. “There’s a valid reason Rogues don’t communicate or work together. Now, what I need to know is how you two made contact and why she called you.”
“I have no idea,” she lied.
“Veronica.” The seriousness in Aniya’s tone caused their eyes to meet. “Do you really think that cut on your side was just retaliation from some miniscule case you’re pursuing? Or does the smarter part of you understand it was an attempt on your life?”
“Why would someone try to kill me?” Veronica asked politely. Man, the list was too long to get into, she knew. But she was curious to know how her friend would answer.
“Rogues don’t just end up dead. Not without purpose. She knew something, didn’t she?”
Veronica’s stare was steady; her reply was stone cold silence.
“Did she have the chance to tell you whatever it was she knew that cost her her life?” Aniya wondered. “Have you considered it might cost you yours as well?”
Oh yes, Veronica had considered all the angles. And she was slightly insulted that Aniya was questioning her intelligence. This was not the place or the time to talk about the dead Rogue. The entire hotel was probably tapped and filmed every second of the evening.
Tired of the conversation, Veronica shook her head. Where the hell was Claude? She was about to get up and find him when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see the maitre d slide a small envelope next to her purse. He smiled like the creep he was before slithering off without a word.
Veronica picked the paper up and pulled a small card out. It was written in gold letters with the words You’re invited in the center. She turned the card over to read tiny, but precise directions on her next steps.
“Don’t do this, Veronica,” Aniya warned.
Her words sent fire coursing through Veronica’s veins. She slid the paper into her clutch and checked her lipstick before slipping gracefully off the stool.
“It kills him, doesn’t it?” Veronica asked, her voice smooth and collected now. She placed the clutch under her arm and looked directly at Aniya to see her questionable expression. “To not have control over me like he used to,” she clarified.
Aniya raised a perfectly sculpted brow as she said, “Arc was never fool enough to believe he could control a woman like you, Veronica.”
Those words solidified her confidence and Veronica squared her shoulders. “Be sure and tell him hello for me. It was nice to finally put a face to your voice.”
She didn’t wait for anything further to be said. Veronica wanted to leave on top and that’s exactly what she did—with every eye on her as she strolled out of the dining area.
Chapter Twelve
How did she know Aniya wouldn’t follow her? It was a gut instinct. She assumed Arc had risked all the exposure he was comfortable with for the evening. She was pushing back old emotions as she stopped in the lobby entrance outside the dining room doors.
The card said to take a left.
She moved with fluidity despite her spiked high-heel shoes. The soft clank on the floor echoed her confidence off the stark marble rock. She glanced down at the card swiftly and saw the next step was to take the service elevators. She strolled by the guest elevators and on down the hall. The noise from the lobby faded behind her as she saw her intended destination.
Once she was in the elevator, she was instructed to choose the Sub-G floor. Her brow crinkled with confusion.
Underground, she realized suddenly. Damn. She chewed on her lip for a second as she considered her options. She had told no one where she was going. No one of any use anyway. If this mission went south, she was screwed. She had no backup.
You never have backup, Veronica, she reminded herself.
She took in a deep, decisive breath and pushed the button. When the machine dinged and shuddered to life, Veronica tried not to think of those as the last things she might ever hear or feel. It only occurred to her how deep she was in when the elevator stopped and the door opened.
The last thing Veronica expected to see was a tall, flaming redhead standing in front of the doors. She was wearing a strapless sequin dress and smacking her gum so loud Veronica wanted to smack it right out of her mouth.
The redhead raised a brow and put her hand on her hip as Veronica stepped out of the elevator.
“Damn!” She stopped murdering her gum for a second to give Veronica the once over. “Claude wasn’t wrong.” Her voice was high-pitched and had the hint of a New York or Jersey accent.
Veronica was curious as to what Claude hadn’t been wrong about, but considering the way the woman was sizing Veronica up, she had a good indication.
The stranger probably wasn’t out of her early twenties yet. Her skin was like porcelain, not a freckle one in sight which made Veronica wonder if her bright red locks were fake. As she studied her back, Veronica decided she looked just like the girl cartoon character off Who Framed Roger Rabbit. The more she looked, the more uncanny it was. But this chick was probably too young to have even heard of the movie, so Veronica didn’t bother asking if she was trying to copycat the fictional sex symbol. She did know, however, that she would be driving herself crazy for the next couple days trying to remember that cartoon’s name. If she was alive that long…
“Boss’ll be happy,” the girl decided, drawing Veronica from her random thoughts. She reached out and took Veronica by the arm. “Boss’ll be real happy.”
They walked down a hallway similar to the ones in the upper hotel area until they reached a metal detector machine in an open area. Veronica had assumed as much and hadn’t brought any detectable weapons.
There were several people standing around in suits. It was mostly men. The one by the detector himself was a younger man with curly blonde hair. He, like the rest of the crew, was dressed sharply in a tailored gray suit and a crisp white shirt. There was no tie and the top of the shirt was left unbuttoned as if he had some manly chest hair he wanted to display. All Veronica could see were tiny wisps, barely visible and she fought to keep her eyes from rolling.
“Who do we have here?” he asked, his baby blue eyes sparkling with interest.
“New girl,” Red said, chomping that damn gum again.
“Audition?” he guessed with a grin.
Veronica looked at him with disinterest and waited.
“She’s supposed to go to the holding room,” Red informed.
“Step through,” the boy insisted.
Veronica handed her clutch to Red and walked through slowly. The boy (who she now called Justin in her head because of the similarity between him and a certain early two-thousand boy band member) was eagerly waiting for her on the other side. And she didn’t like that look on his face one bit. Like a dog with a new toy to chase. She would snap him like a twig if she had to.
The alarm sounded briefly and she wasn’t surprised. She lifted the gold chain from her neck. “Jewelry,” she stated nonchalantly.
Justin looked a little too smug as he roamed her body with the handheld detector. It was quiet until it passed over her neck and she gave him a ‘told you so’ smirk.
“Boss wants me to be thorough,” he said as he sat the device down.
> The other men let out a whistle of delight and it occurred to her what was going to happen next. She clenched her jaw, but it was inevitable. She would grin and bear it. Well, she might not grin, she thought as she lifted her arms slightly and the weasel of a boy before her excitedly began to pat her down.
He started at her ankles and she shuddered with disgust as his hands slid under the satin of the gown to not-so-gently check her thighs.
Veronica couldn’t help but cringe a little as his hands roughly ran over her stitches. It hurt and she hoped it wouldn’t start bleeding. She had carefully covered it with a thin dressing, but she wasn’t sure it would hold much blood if she popped another stitch.
“Ticklish?” the boy taunted, stepping around behind her.
She didn’t bother answering him and she had to press her lips tight together when she felt him grab her breasts. The other men let out a hoot of joy, obviously enjoying the show and she gritted her teeth.
“Your dress is too thin to hide anything,” Justin whispered in her ear and she could smell the alcohol on his breath. “I might have to do a cavity search.”
That was about all she could handle. Veronica promptly stomped her heel into the top of his foot and he let out a wail, staggering back. She whirled around and pushed him hard, causing him to stumble into Red.
“Bitch!” Justin spat at her and as soon as he recovered, he had his hand raised. Red grabbed his arm before he could swing.
“Boss won’t like that, Zane,” she said seriously. “Don’t touch the prospects.”
Veronica could tell he sure wanted to, though. He wanted to touch her with both his fists, and just knowing how abusive and violent this boy was made her want to slap cuffs on him and throw him under a cell. But she would have to wait. If she was patient and played her cards right, she might be able to take down the entire nest. If you make it out alive, she thought morbidly. At this point, being this far into the operation, she was starting to have her doubts.
“Come on.” Red step forward and took Veronica’s arm again. They started down another hallway when the voice of someone else stopped them.
