The Final Hour (Dublin Nights Book 5)

by Brittney Sahin

  Sebastian poured two fingers of whiskey in each glass, and Emilia handed out the drinks. I took a seat next to my brother, and when Emilia offered the tumbler, I swept my gaze up to her face to find her eyes meeting mine. But in one fast movement, whatever touch of emotion I’d sworn I witnessed vanished. Her thoughts now unreadable to me in every possible way. Her body language. Eyes. Everything. She’d perfected the ability to block me out.

  I shifted my focus to Cole’s wife on the couch opposite me. It’d been two years since Sebastian had learned Alessia was not only alive but that it was his best friend Luca who’d faked her death. Every so often, I caught him eyeing his sister as though she were a ghost, worried she wasn’t really there.

  I couldn’t imagine losing my sister. Conversely, mourning her for four years only to discover she’d been locked away in a League prison in Russia.

  Luca.

  Feck that man.

  My loathing for him wasn’t limited to what he’d done to Alessia. I was jealous he’d tasted Emilia’s lips. Had her body. Her time and attention. I especially hated that he was currently living as a free man while helping us gain intel on The Alliance. He’d engineered that deal not too long after we’d rescued Alessia, only for Luca to have turned a Russian mob on us. Luca offered to go undercover within The Alliance in exchange for his life. We’d all hated the idea, but in the end, the arsehole had won.

  I couldn’t help but secretly hope I’d get the privilege of taking him down after he outlived his usefulness. He could be my first kill, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t be so lucky. A guy could hope, though.

  “How’d it go?” Sebastian was the first to break the silence, eyes set on Emilia. It was clear he’d been clued in as to her whereabouts today.

  I crossed my ankle over my knee, rested the tumbler on my thigh, and did my best to keep my emotions in check. Being a League leader meant I had to be tough, not fixated on a woman. Not obsessed, a word I was beginning to hate.

  Obsession was dangerous.

  Da had been obsessed with work, driving Ma away to the point they nearly divorced. Not to mention his heart attack that had forced Adam and Anna to postpone their original wedding date.

  Sebastian’s obsession with Holly had painted a target on her head two years ago as well.

  So, I’d be smart to end this obsession with Emilia. We weren’t meant to be, despite all my talk of fate throwing us together again. Besides, if I didn’t get a handle on my feelings, it could end up destroying me as well as hurting people I cared about.

  “I got as close to him as possible without drawing attention to myself.” Emilia’s words stole my focus her way as she remained standing, her back to one of the black poles separating the large room into sections.

  “Him?” Cole’s hand went to Alessia’s thigh, and he leaned back on the couch.

  “I went to London because Luca gave me the heads-up that Atlas Castellanos-Laurent was in town for meetings and told me I ought to drop by today. More specifically, to be there at three in the afternoon. He said I wouldn’t want to miss out on the photoshoot taking place in the park across the street from Atlas’s hotel.”

  At the mention of Luca’s name, my attention veered to Cole. He clenched his jaw and fisted the hand on his wife’s thigh. Alessia placed her hand atop his in a gesture I was sure was meant to calm him.

  “And?” Sebastian spat out like he’d tasted something foul with Luca’s name mentioned.

  “Clearly, Luca wanted me to see that it appears as though Atlas is having an affair with Bridgette Krause, the twenty-six-year-old German model, or he’s hoping to start one, at least. Bridgette was part of the fashion shoot for a commercial in the park, and Atlas observed from a nearby bench. Never took his eyes off her. And every free moment she had, she stared at him. There was definitely something between them.”

  “Why can’t Luca ever just be feckin’ straightforward? Him and his damn antics these past months when providing intel makes my skin bloody crawl.” Just thinking about Emilia talking to that smarmy bastard had me itchy.

  “I gave him shit for purposefully withholding that important detail,” Emilia quickly responded. “Luca said he had a hunch they were having an affair, but he hadn’t managed to get any proof, and he didn’t think I’d believe him without checking for myself.”

  “Well, that’s probably the truest thing that man has said,” Cole tossed out bitterly. “I wouldn’t have believed him.”

  “When I pressed Luca, he did manage to obtain Atlas’s schedule for the last few weeks for me. Atlas made four trips between November and now. I can also confirm Bridgette had fashion meetings or events in three of those four cities at the same time Atlas was there.”

  Alessia stood at Emilia’s news. “Bridgette Krause is married to The Alliance leader of Germany, right? Peter Krause. And her husband is, what, fifty?”

  And now things just got a lot more interesting.

  Emilia pinned her eyes on Alessia, a smile crossing her lips.

  “Bridgette’s father was the German leader until two years ago. When Bridgette and Peter married, the position passed to him,” Sebastian added the reminder. “The Krauses happen to be the wealthiest Alliance family in Germany, so the union made sense to Bridgette’s father.”

  “No one ever gives a damn about what the daughter wants,” Emilia said in a soft voice, then appeared to physically shake off whatever was going on in her head.

  “So, if something is going on between Bridgette and Atlas, are you thinking about using that information to pit the German Alliance branch against Atlas?” Adam asked.

  “Start a little civil war within the organization?” Cole added, but I remained quiet, taking it all in.

  Emilia folded her arms and surveyed our group, her eyes landing on me last. “Exactly. I was hoping the affair could help us turn Peter and Atlas against each other. Peter already doesn’t like Atlas and finding out about Bridgette’s affair will tip him over the edge. They’ll be distracted dealing with each other. More vulnerable. And then we make our move.”

  “We’re listening,” Alessia said, poised and ready to learn more. When Alessia returned from years of captivity, Emilia had stepped in and helped her cope with the trauma and PTSD of the hell she’d endured. She’d also helped Alessia hone the fighting skills she’d learned in that prison—working to bring down The Alliance was a form of therapy.

  “Let’s start with what we know of both the German branch and Atlas’s family,” Sebastian said, and it had me wondering how much he and Emilia had already discussed before our meeting. Of course, Sebastian had his finger on the pulse of The League as well as a sharp eye on The Alliance, and he kept Emilia in the know. At times, it made me feel like an outsider watching the two of them. “As Emilia mentioned, Peter Krause holds a grudge against Atlas’s family for several reasons,” Sebastian went on. “The main one being that when Atlas’s father and grandfather died in that plane crash last year, Atlas inherited control of not just one, but two Alliance countries. Peter resents the fact that Atlas is only twenty-seven and relatively inexperienced, yet he’s required to go to him for permission for certain deals. In Peter’s mind, Atlas should never have been in a position to inherit such power. And Peter’s father was against the marriage of Penelope Castellanos and Simon Laurent. Like The League, he took issue with two powerful families merging.”

  “Peter’s father went so far as calling on one of The Alliance’s rituals they’d borrowed and modified from ancient Rome. He’d hoped to prevent the powerful union from happening,” Emilia added, her expression blank.

  “I’m all ears. What is it?” Adam asked, setting his elbows on his thighs, leaning forward with interest.

  “It’s called L’ultima ora,” Emilia said, her tone cool and detached. “The Final Hour. The ritual is invoked when two families from different countries attempt to unite.”

  Alessia grimaced. “And why do I get the feeling this is going to be a ‘Russell Crowe in Gladiator on steroids
’ kind of challenge?”

  “Because it is.” Sebastian looked at his sister apologetically, probably remembering what Luca Moreau had done to her in that Russian prison, forcing her to fight against men twice her size—including having her kill the son of the most powerful Russian crime boss in the world. “Simon had to prove himself worthy of such a powerful position. One hour of fighting. Within that hour, he went up against the best of the best fighters. Or anyone in The Alliance looking to challenge him for his power instead. Simon had to knock the assassins unconscious or kill them. But the goal for him was survival.”

  “Wow. So, it would have been game over for him if he’d failed,” Alessia mused, “which obviously, he didn’t.”

  “He killed two men and severely wounded three more that night,” Sebastian told her.

  “And did Penelope even have a choice, or was she forced into the wedding by her father, Milos?” Alessia asked, sounding almost concerned for the man’s daughter.

  “Arranged marriage,” Emilia answered. “Simon barely survived the hour, but he earned himself the blood right, as The Alliance called it, to be the one to unite the Greek and French houses of the organization.”

  “With the assumption that his heirs would one day take over,” Emilia pointed out, her tone easing out of the semi-hollow state it’d wandered into, taking on more depth. More emotion.

  “Atlas had a sister as well, right?” Cole asked, and he clearly had a better memory than me on such details. I’d been focused on training to ensure I didn’t die going up against a criminal, and he had a bit more time in the so-called ring of League life than me before I’d joined. “Chanel?”

  Emilia’s spine stiffened ever so slightly at the same time she cast her dark gaze to the floor. Something about Cole’s question had her either on edge or uncomfortable. Maybe both.

  Sebastian cleared his throat rather loudly and put a fist to his mouth. His actions were about as subtle as a gun. It was obvious the two of them knew something we didn’t.

  But would they share? Jury was out.

  And also, would I press?

  Emilia had learned from Sebastian—the master. Getting either of them to open up was near impossible. They were like two seemingly impenetrable fortresses. Just because my sister got through to Sebastian didn’t mean Emilia’s defenses would come crumbling down.

  “Yes, Atlas had a sister, but even if she hadn’t died, she wouldn’t have been allowed to lead. So, Atlas was Simon’s only heir.” Based on Emilia’s lack of eye contact with anyone but Sebastian, she was done with that part of the conversation.

  “So, we know Peter isn’t a fan of Atlas. And I’m betting Atlas feels the same toward him,” Adam spoke up. He knew even less about Alliance and League dynamics than me. He probably felt like he was playing catch-up every time we had a meeting. “As for Atlas, on a scale of one to ten, how bad of a bloke are we dealing with?”

  “Now? A five. But he has the potential to be an eleven,” Sebastian commented in a low voice.

  “Great,” I grumbled under my breath.

  “So, we take him out before that happens. That’s the plan,” Alessia said as if serving a reminder to a group of disheartened people who’d lost their way.

  Emilia nodded, her posture suddenly more relaxed. “According to Luca, Atlas will be attending a special New Year’s Eve event in Monaco, and I did some checking, and Bridgette will be there as well. That’s where we can get evidence of their affair. And even if her husband is there, I have a feeling Atlas may still try and chance a moment alone with her.”

  “Are we really trusting Luca, though? What if he’s playing us somehow, and this intel is a trap?” Cole bit out. He was now on his feet, hands diving through his dark hair.

  “He knows if he lies or his intel is bad, he’s done. Everything he’s offered us thus far has only helped,” Emilia said with a confident nod. “Don’t worry.”

  How could we not worry?

  “The man double-crossed The League. He locked Alessia away in a prison in Russia,” Cole said in a dark voice as if we’d forgotten. “He forced Alessia to kill the son of the leader of a powerful mob organization to try and turn the Petrovs against The League. Luca can’t be trusted.”

  Sebastian was the next to stand, his voice gravelly and low as anger pierced his words. “All of that is true, but we also can’t deny that every piece of intel he’s provided us thus far has been helpful. So, like Emilia said, we keep using him until he’s no longer useful.”

  Alessia peered at her brother and gave him a tight nod. The woman was tough. “How will we get into this event in Monaco?” Alessia asked Emilia. “Won’t that raise some eyebrows if we show up? Unless you mean for one of us to sneak around and not actually get on the invite list.”

  “The event is for the ultra-wealthy. And it’s not sponsored by The Alliance, so if one of us happens to show up, it won’t appear all that suspicious.” I had a feeling Emilia still had more to reveal.

  “Monaco, of course. Nicknamed the billionaires’ playground,” Adam said, drawing our eyes. “What?” He shrugged. “I went there often in my pre-Anna days.”

  Emilia’s smile was resurrected for a brief moment at my brother’s playful grin before returning to business-mode. “I think it’d be smart for one of us to make a move on Bridgette before Monaco and plant a listening device on her. She might meet up with Atlas before New Year’s Eve, which would get us the proof we need that much sooner. We might even be able to gather intel on Peter in that time as well. And if neither of those things happen, we still have our original plan. No downside risk here.”

  “What do you propose?” I asked.

  “I did some digging, and the designer she models for rotates Bridgette’s everyday seasonal looks, including her bag. For the next few weeks, she should be carrying the same purse with her. That’s our target,” Emilia explained.

  “And how will one of us get close to her?” Adam scratched his jaw, now covered in a few days’ worth of scruff.

  “Me,” I said under my breath. “And let me guess, she’s blonde, right?” I stood and jammed my hands in my trouser pockets, finding Sara’s business card there.

  The look Emilia gave me was downright frigid, but I was likely the only one who noticed. “You’ll need to get her alone. Maybe in her room. A place without any cameras to spot you slipping a device into her bag,” Emilia added after allowing the icy moment between us to dissipate. “She’ll be in Edinburgh this Saturday. Bridgette’s in a lingerie runway event, and there’s a private after-party. You’re single. I’m sure watching mostly naked women strut down a runway won’t be a hardship for you.”

  Damn this woman. She was really trying to get a rise out of me at every opportunity. Her words, coupled with whatever angry look I was probably sporting, drew a few throat clears around us.

  “And how am I landing a last-minute invite to this lingerie event and after-party?” I asked, but then my thoughts drifted to Sara. Surely, she had connections in the industry. She’d said she carried some of the best lines, so maybe.

  Was it fate I’d bumped into her?

  I was growing tired of that word since it never seemed to work in my favor.

  “I’d prefer not to flash your name around as a way in because I want you flying under the radar, but I’ll think of something,” Emilia said with confidence.

  “Will Bridgette’s husband be at this event?” Sebastian asked, directing his attention to Emilia, saving me from her icy glare. “Atlas?”

  “No. Peter rarely attends her fashion shows. And according to the schedule Luca provided me, Atlas is staying in London through Sunday,” Emilia answered, then turned her gaze back to me. “So, you’ll have the all-clear to do what you do best.”

  What I do best, huh? “And what makes you think Bridgette will take me to her room? What if she recognizes me as League?”

  Emilia’s eyes raked over me as if the answer was obvious. “Oh, I don’t think you’ll have a problem garnering her a
ttention.” She wet her lips, and I was fairly certain she hadn’t realized she was doing it because a second later, she blinked and turned away from me. “As for being an enemy of her husband, looks like that didn’t stop her with Atlas. Might thrill her that much more if she knows you’re League.”

  “You’re not actually going to sleep with her, right? We want her husband hating Atlas not focusing his attention on you,” Alessia asked, and this conversation had me wanting to go blow money on something ridiculous. Maybe one-up Da and get a newer model Ferrari than the one he had.

  I cupped the back of my head. “Of course not,” I snapped, letting everyone know up front there were lengths I wouldn’t go to, not even for our war with The Alliance. Maybe before Emilia and my League position, the old Sean wouldn’t have fecking cared, but The League had turned me into a better man. A confused man, at times, but a better one. I saw the darkness now that I was in The League, but looking at Emilia, even right now, I also saw the light. And it was so bright it hurt at times to look at it.

  “I’ll be in Edinburgh with you at the fashion show,” Emilia said without looking at me. “I’ll make sure the device is properly working once you place it in her bag. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to snap a few photos of you two together. If things don’t pan out in Monaco for some reason, we can use those to blackmail her for intel on her husband and Atlas. She wouldn’t want either man finding out about you.” Her gaze cut to me. “Make sure to get the curtains open. I can use a long-range lens from the building across from the hotel to get the shots. A kiss should be sufficient.” Her tone was a touch weak. Barely noticeable to probably everyone but me.

  I tried not to cling to the hope that Emilia was jealous because, despite her quips about blondes, I didn’t think she had it in her.

  “What kind of tech do we have for a listening device?” Adam asked. “I assume her husband is cautious and does routine sweeps.”