Chasing Fortune (Stealth Ops Book 8)

by Brittney Sahin

  “I know,” A.J. replied. “He used my phone and scheduled a visit with the Trott brothers for next week. I guess he’s assuming we’ll be done with The Italian by then, and he’s looking for a little payback.”

  “You better add my name to that job.” He moved his focus to Rory as she pulled her hair into a messy bun atop her head. Beautiful. And he’d make this right. He’d get payback, too. For every asshole who ever hurt her.

  “Back to the whole, Jesse-approving-of-your-relationship thing,” A.J. began, “he won’t stop your wedding the way he did Ella’s.” A.J. flicked the bill of his hat with his index finger, pushing it up so he could see Chris.

  Maybe just leave it up? Chris smiled.

  “I mean, I’m not saying you’re planning on marrying her, but you know what I mean.”

  Marriage? Chris looked at Rory, her gaze focused on whatever Harper was pointing at on the screen. “You know what I used to think about marriage when it came to my own life.”

  “But I reckon that’s changed in the last week or so, huh?”

  “Yeah, I reckon so,” Chris said, imitating A.J.’s Southern drawl.

  Rory still had her Southern drawl as well, maybe not as pronounced as A.J.’s, but that bit of her heritage wrapped delicately around her syllables, fighting to stay with her even though she’d been running around the world for a decade.

  “But really,” Chris said, sitting taller, “now I know how you felt when you met Ana for the first time, and you couldn’t even look at another woman the same again. It’s a crazy feeling, and it took me by surprise. And then to discover we both have a passion for animals, and she’s—”

  “Hunting smugglers,” A.J. finished for him. “Man, Jesse’s gonna lose his damn mind when she tells him the truth. I’m thinking she’s avoiding that conversation, worried he’ll go full-blown big brother on her. Chew her out.”

  “What would you do if it was Ella?”

  “Strap her down,” he said with a laugh. “Never let her out of my sight.”

  “Yeah, well, you don’t do that with Ana,” Chris reminded him. “And I don’t see myself ever wanting to tie Rory down.” No, that woman was born to fly.

  A.J. winked. “Right answer, brother.” He slapped a hand over his heart. “That was a test.”

  “Of course.” Chris rolled his tired eyes, then swiped a palm down his face. “Hey, remember those fortune cookies we had in our takeout, the night we were staking out Ana back in D.C.? You remember what the fortune said?”

  “The one I made up?”

  “No, mine.” Chris grimaced. “I saved that little piece of paper and had it in my wallet. Those sons of bitches on the yacht took everything of mine. That fortune is probably at the bottom of the ocean right now. But I memorized it. You will chase fortune but win a heart.”

  “Why’d you keep it?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s turning out to be pretty damn accurate.” Chris’s gaze drifted back to Rory and their eyes connected. “Only, I’m thinking fortune and heart are one and the same.” Rory’s the fortune. She’s everything. And he was pretty sure he was also finding love.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Sicily, Italy

  “Billionaires and their castles,” Chris commented as Rory watched him take in the view of the Calibrisi mansion after the guards had opened the electronic gates and allowed them access to the property.

  Thankfully, they’d barely passed any other vehicles on the narrow, windy road up the hill they’d traveled to reach Emilia’s home. The rental van Wyatt drove was almost wider than the road itself, and there had been some hold-your-breath moments when they rounded a few particularly tight curves.

  They followed the circular driveway around a water feature to what could only be described as a mansion on steroids. Ancient Rome and dashes of the Italian Renaissance could be seen in the facets of the stone estate that sat high, high up on a hill overlooking the sea.

  “Decent view of Mount Etna off in the distance,” Finn said as they rolled to a stop.

  “We’re far enough away that if Etna blows, she’ll probably just dump ash on the pool,” Roman tossed out.

  “And you’re assuming they have a pool, huh?” A.J. asked while swinging the door open to exit the passenger side of the van.

  Chris exited next and held a hand out to help Rory. “Thanks.” The word floated in the air and was almost too quiet for him to hear.

  Her nerves were as mangled as a shipwreck that had sat at the bottom of the Atlantic for three hundred years. The idea she’d been manipulated was a hard pill to swallow.

  “Are we going to stand here and make a wish, or are we gonna go inside?” A.J. called out, seemingly unimpressed with the massive fountain. He jerked his thumb toward the double doors of the home when no one moved.

  “Turrets. The place has turrets.” Finn closed one eye as if the sun was bothering him, even though it had already set—probably the spotlights because, of course, spotlights. Given the length of their flight and the travel time from the airport to the mansion, it’d be a late dinner. Maybe no dinner at all. “I bet she has a lair or Batcave.”

  “It’s like we’re on the set of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, and I’m probably aging myself with that comment,” A.J. said with a shake of his head.

  “I’d be more comfortable with going onto the show Naked and Afraid.” Chris lifted the bag he and Rory shared, and they started toward the front steps, which were offset by pillars.

  “We were almost on that show,” Harper reminded him. “Did we tell you boys about the naked plank walks?”

  Harper’s words stopped Finn in his tracks, and he quickly glanced at her, eyebrows raised and mouth hanging open. If Rory wasn’t so tense about the revelation she’d possibly been manipulated, she’d probably join in on the joking.

  “We’ll catch you up on the details later,” Harper casually tossed out.

  “Tease,” Finn said with a laugh.

  When they were all standing in front of the enormous double doors, through which a full-sized elephant could fit, Roman rang the bell.

  Rory was half-expecting to hear Dobermans scrambling and barking, or Batman’s butler, Alfred, to open up, but instead, she was pretty sure they were now face-to-face with the billionaire League leader of Italy herself.

  “Emilia,” Roman greeted her, his tone tender as she reached to take both of his hands before setting a kiss to first one cheek and then the other.

  And wow, I’m underdressed. Rory peeked at her own wardrobe. The same loose gray tee, jeans, and sneakers she was wearing when they’d left Carter’s estate. Whereas Emilia was in fitted black skinny jeans, a black sleeveless turtleneck, and had paired the ensemble with tall, pointed-toe black heels. Her red lipstick was bold and made her look fierce, and it was the defining statement to the entire look. All black and then bam! Red lips.

  Her features were exquisitely feminine, super sexy, and from what Rory had heard, the woman was also a superhero. Every man’s dream, but no one on Echo appeared to be gawking.

  When Chris set a hand to her back, Rory leaned a bit closer to him. He felt like home to her now, and it didn’t seem to matter whether they were in Virginia or Italy. The man made her feel safe and comfortable, which was saying a lot, given the insanity of the last few days.

  “So nice to meet you all.” Emilia extended a hand to Wyatt next as though sensing he was Echo’s leader, then went through the motions of introductions. “You must be Harper.” Emilia reached for Harper’s palm and smiled, her white teeth showing between those bright red lips. “Roman never stops talking about you. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

  “I don’t talk about you,” Roman rushed out, gaze set on Harper.

  “Sure you don’t.” Finn patted Roman twice on the shoulder to emphasize he thought Roman was full of shit.

  Roman cleared his throat and swiped a hand up and down the back of his head.

  “And I heard you’re Red Robin Hood.” Emilia saved Roman
’s golden tanned skin from completely turning beet red by directing her attention to Rory. “I’ve been tracking you for quite some time.” Emilia’s eyes lit up when she sandwiched Rory’s hands between her palms. “I knew when you stopped going after antiquities dealers that it had to be for a good reason.”

  “Sorry,” Roman apologized, eyes on Rory. “I had to fill her in.”

  Rory smiled, and now it was her turn to be embarrassed. She’s been tracking me?

  “No worries.” The League now knew about her, and she hadn’t decided her opinion on the group of vigilantes yet. Could she trust them with her secret?

  “Come on, please, follow me to Papa’s study.” While they traveled through a foyer and down a wide hallway, Chris held on to Rory’s hand as if worried she’d get lost. “My father died, but this is the room where I still feel him the most,” she said upon entering the space. “Probably because his cigar smoke still clings to the walls.”

  Forget Batman. I’m in Belle’s library in the Beast’s castle. Wall-to-wall books. Not even a window. Just books everywhere. “Savanna would love this place,” she whispered her thoughts aloud, and A.J. peered her way, a sad smile of understanding on his face since he and Savanna’s husband were close friends before he was killed in action.

  Emilia motioned to the leather couches in the center of the room, but no one moved to sit. The guys remained crowded near the entrance of the door.

  “I appreciate you having us,” Wyatt began, stepping forward, “but if you don’t mind, I’d like to take two of my guys and sweep the property. Get a lay of the land. Can’t be too careful.”

  “Of course.” Emilia nodded. “One of my men can escort you and show you the grounds, and if the rest of you would like to be shown to your rooms to freshen up, we can have dinner afterward out on the terrace. Sebastian Renaud and Sean McGregor should be here soon. They’ve been busy questioning Danny at one of our local sites, but he refuses to talk to anyone but Rory.”

  Did The League have dedicated torture sites? “I’d like to talk to Danny myself, anyway,” Rory said.

  “I didn’t know Sean was also coming,” Roman noted a moment later, clearly recognizing the name.

  “Sebastian thought it’d be good training for him. Adam piloted a helicopter he rented from Cosenza to here, but Sean is protective of his twin, so Adam will be staying at the hangar.” Rory was surprised that Emilia’s accent wasn’t very thick, but then again, Roman had mentioned on their ride up the steep, windy road to get to the home that Emilia had studied at Oxford for a few years and had even lived in Vegas at one point. “Not that anything will go wrong, but Adam’s sticking more to the sidelines when it comes to League business.”

  Training? A twin? League business?

  “Shall we?” Emilia motioned toward one of her guards now standing at the door, and Wyatt, Finn, and A.J. followed him out.

  Emilia guided the rest of them farther into the mansion, stopping when they reached twin staircases, so grand Rory felt like she was on the set of Titanic. Only, if she’d been Rose, well, in the movie, Rory would’ve made room for Chris on that damn door floating in the ocean. She’d never let Chris sacrifice himself for her.

  “Separate rooms?” Emilia asked once they’d made it to the third level, Emilia’s heels clicking on hardwoods as they walked past door after door.

  “Rory and I will be staying together,” Chris answered without hesitation.

  “Um, separate rooms for us,” Harper said a second later, motioning between herself and Roman. “We work together. Roman and I aren’t . . .” And yet, she didn’t finish that thought.

  Emilia paused outside one of the rooms and pinned Harper with a thoughtful look. “Sure.”

  Yeah, Emilia wasn’t buying the Harper-and-Roman-are-only-friends routine, either.

  After Roman and Harper had been shown to their rooms, Chris and Rory went into one of the larger suites.

  “I know you’re here because of unfortunate circumstances,” Emilia started, “but there’s no reason not to enjoy yourself while you’re here.”

  “Thank you,” Rory said as Chris went to the window and looked out. The blinds were up, and red, velvet drapes hung at the sides. “We appreciate everything you’re doing for us.”

  “Of course. Is thirty minutes enough time to get ready?” Emilia checked her watch. “Sebastian and Sean should be here within the hour.”

  “That’d be perfect. Thank you so much.”

  Emilia started to turn, then set a hand to the inside of the door. “Just so you know, The Italian doesn’t have a ground base in Europe, and most certainly not in Italy. The League would know. Almost all criminal activity is governed by a group known as The Alliance, an organization my people are working tirelessly to take down.”

  “Is it possible The Italian still operates trade routes to Europe, though?” Rory asked, and Emilia’s brows pinched as if in thought.

  “To the ports, I suppose. There are too many to keep track of, unfortunately. But if The Italian is a real person and not a legend, he most likely operates on the ocean, never coming onto land.”

  The ocean? Is he . . .? No, she pushed the thoughts away. They were far too uncomfortable to digest. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because if he’d been in the habit of coming to my shores, I would’ve handled him already,” she responded in a cool, self-assured tone that had Rory liking her that much more. “See you at dinner.”

  “She’s intense,” Chris said after Emilia had shut the door.

  “This whole thing is intense. And also, did you notice that she doesn’t seem convinced that—”

  “The Italian is real?” He faced her, hands dipping into his pockets.

  “What if I got this wrong? Again?” She couldn’t fathom that. But she had to be honest with herself.

  “Is this about the list?”

  “Isn’t everything about that damn list?” she whispered, her shoulders collapsing. “Sorry, I’m frustrated.”

  His lips tipped into a crooked smile. “You have every right to be. And we’ve barely spoken since we left Puerto Rico.”

  She’d been in the middle of unzipping their travel bag but stopped and stood upright to find his worried eyes on her. “I’m just so pissed I was probably taken advantage of, but I’m also someone who hates harping on the past. No Monday morning quarterbacking. Trying my best not to beat myself up, at least.”

  He closed the space between them and curved a hand around her waist. “What you did is incredible. I don’t care who provided the list and why. I won’t let anyone, especially The Italian, make you think your work was insignificant. You took down a lot of bad men.”

  Emotion unfolded inside her body, the pain and anger she’d done her best to suppress now fighting its way to the surface.

  Chris stepped back and removed his shirt, his muscles flexing in the process, then unbuckled his belt and popped the top button of his jeans. Needing to feel his skin beneath her hands, Rory stepped closer and laid her palms on his taut abdomen. “Are you trying to distract me?”

  “Is it working?” He lifted his brows.

  “I guess I could think of one way to relieve some of this tension I’m feeling, to take out my frustrations about everything in a more therapeutic way.”

  “I am all about using sex as therapy. I mean, if that’s the kind of therapy you were talking about last week,” he said with an adorable playboy smile, “then I would’ve reacted differently.” He spun her around so her back was to the window. “I would be willing to have multiple sessions with you every day.”

  “Multiple, huh?” she murmured as she raked her short nails down his torso.

  She unzipped his fly and shoved down his jeans, allowing them to fall to his ankles.

  He stealthily maneuvered her top and bra off in seconds. Shoes and jeans next. Panties a distant memory over his shoulder.

  “Are we really going to have sex here? In Sicily? My naked body pinned to the glass overlooking the water be
neath the dark sky?”

  “I’m thinking yes, given the current state of our nakedness.” When his breath hit the shell of her ear, her sex clenched, and chills coated her body.

  He flipped her around, so her breasts were to the glass, his naked body tight to her back. He set her palms to the window and brought his chin to rest over her shoulder as they took in the view of the sea down below.

  His hands skated between the glass and her body to cup her breasts in his large, rough palms. Rory bit her lower lip as desire grabbed hold, her need for him to thrust and pump inside her overshadowing any fear or worry in her mind.

  With their bodies connected, her problems would fade away.

  She turned her cheek to offer her mouth, and he met her lips with a gentleness that grew into something more intense and promising.

  And before she knew it, he’d spun her back around and had their bodies united.

  They were making love.

  Against the window overlooking the water.

  In the same country that brought her to her first adventure ten years ago.

  I’ve come full circle somehow, haven’t I?

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “So, here was this guy who’d spilled a cocktail on me and was clumsily trying to dab the vodka off my chest with a bar napkin . . . and I thought”—Emilia paused for dramatic flair—“do I break his arm or just throw a drink in his face? When suddenly, from out of nowhere, this assassin appears behind me on the patio. The guy thought he was a ninja, I swear. Had two swords and some insane mask.” She flicked a dismissive hand in the air. “I swear some of these men were born to be stunt doubles in movies instead.”

  Rory smiled, the scene Emilia had just painted vividly unfolding in her mind as they all sat on the massive terrace. Two glass doors led out to the terrace from each side of the sprawling space, and there were still plenty of empty seats at the long, rectangular table, even with the eight of them outside. Potted Cypress trees lined the walls of the home.