Chasing Fortune (Stealth Ops Book 8)

by Brittney Sahin

She’d been at Emilia’s place for less than an hour, but she already knew they’d been right to seek out Emilia’s help. Besides, she was a total badass, too.

  “So, Clumsy Guy drops the napkin and transitions into what I can only define as beast mode. He shifts me away from the guy and shields me like I was some damsel in distress.” Emilia chuckled and refilled her glass with wine as if the idea she needed saving was preposterous.

  “You were Clumsy Guy?” Finn asked Roman, laughter bubbling in his tone.

  Based on what Rory now knew about Roman, clumsy was far from an accurate descriptor of the man. Quiet, intense, intelligent, and strongly protective? Yes. Clumsy? Not so much.

  Rory sipped her wine and side-eyed Harper off to her left, whose gaze was set on Roman and Emilia across from them. Rory couldn’t help but wonder if Harper was trying to figure out if Roman had a history with Emilia beyond friendship.

  “I quickly learned Roman was no klutz. He took down that assassin with his bare hands. He grabbed a knife from the bar and stabbed him in the eye. I stood by silently impressed, waiting to see if he’d need my help while all the wedding guests screamed and ran in horror,” Emilia went on. Chris stroked his beard, his focus mostly set on Roman, probably wondering whether Emilia was mistaking Roman for someone else.

  “Then five more guys dropped down from ropes like we were in a bad action film, and I had to step in.” Emilia took a casual sip of red wine, then stood to reveal a jagged scar on her side. “This beauty is from a corkscrew one of the guys managed to jab me with that night.”

  “She’s being humble. She took that stabbing for me. Saved my life. I had my back turned fighting someone else, and she blocked his path with her body.” Roman finally broke his silence and joined in on Emilia’s story.

  Emilia glimpsed Roman as she sat back down, and Rory stared at her in astonishment. “It was a night I’ll never forget. I mean, I’m sure I could’ve handled the six guys, but all except one of my guards were on a smoke break outside the building—the timing had to have been planned by the assailants—and it was nice to have Roman help out.”

  “Wow.” Rory took a conservative sip of her wine, not wanting to get tipsy since more League members were en route, and especially since she’d be questioning her old friend, a friend who set her up from the sounds of it.

  Chris rested his hand on Rory’s thigh, and thoughts of where that hand had been thirty minutes ago filled her mind. Spreading her folds to plunge his thick cock inside her . . .

  “I must confess and plead guilty to the ‘clumsy cocktail’ routine.” Finn held his palms in the air in apology. “I might have taught Roman that little trick to help him with the ladies since he’s a genius in just about everything except for the art of picking up women.” Finn quickly cleared his throat like he’d said too much, especially in the presence of women.

  Roman glared at Finn, then glimpsed Harper with a worried look on his face. He’d slept with Emilia, hadn’t he?

  Forget ninjas, Rory was fascinated by the telenovela unfolding before her very eyes.

  Emilia reached for her phone on the table. “I think we need some music.” She made a few swipes on her iPhone, and music began to drift through the air from the outdoor speakers positioned on the terrace.

  Not even thirty seconds into the song, Harper pushed back from the table and stood. “I’m gonna go grab some more wine.” She tipped her head toward the house, and Rory couldn’t help but notice Roman’s gaze fly to her. The clench of his jaw beneath his dark shadow of a beard was obvious. Not anger, maybe pain.

  “Oh, sit. I can—”

  “No, really, I’m, you know, picky about red wine. Some give me a headache,” Harper rushed out, cutting Emilia off, then started for the house, not wasting any time.

  Roman rose, eyes following Harper, but Rory shook her head.

  “I’ll help her. I have the same headache issue,” Rory lied, thinking Roman was quite possibly the reason for Harper’s quick departure. Or maybe his past with Emilia?

  Roman nodded hesitantly, then eased back into his seat.

  Chris turned and captured Rory’s wrist. “You want me to come with you?”

  “I won’t get lost.” She glanced around at the table of Navy SEALs looking stiff and not nearly as relaxed as Emilia. They’d also barely touched their wine, and Rory was certain Harper had taken just the one sip. The guys were in operation mode minus the fatigues and painted faces. “Don’t worry.”

  Rory hurried toward the house, doing her best not to be too obvious, but she’d bonded with Harper and wanted to make sure she was okay.

  Once inside, Rory spotted Harper with her palms on the marble counter in the butler’s pantry just outside the kitchen.

  Harper stole a look from over her shoulder at Rory.

  “You okay?”

  “Of course,” Harper insisted. But her eyes were glossy, weren’t they?

  No woman was ever “okay” when they were fighting back tears.

  “That song,” Harper began, “just has some memories connected to it. I needed a second. I’m sorry.”

  Rory didn’t recognize the song, but music had always been a powerful vehicle for calling up both painful and amazing memories for her. She understood what Harper might be experiencing. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I guess I wanted to make sure you were okay about . . . um.”

  Harper swiped a fallen tear from her cheek and shook her head as though demanding herself to push away whatever had bothered her. “Emilia? No, I’m not jealous. Why would I be?”

  I didn’t say that but . . . “No, of course not. You have no reason to be jealous. You’re freaking awesome. I just know it’d be awkward if I met someone that Chris might have”—she swallowed—“slept with. Like it was probably weird for him to meet Cutter.”

  “Roman would never admit to having slept with her, anyway. Ask Roman to discuss thermodynamics or his disbelief in paranormal activity, and he’s your guy. But talk about his past? His feelings?” She pursed her lips, her mouth a tight line. “Let’s just say he doesn’t talk about himself. Him opening up about his grandparents at that gala was an anomaly.” She smoothed her hands over her long-sleeved black shirt she’d matched with dark skinny jeans and brown boots.

  Tonight, Rory and Harper were the ones who’d accidentally dressed alike. Only Rory was in a white shirt with black boots.

  “Besides, nothing is going on between Roman and me now.”

  “Now?” Rory couldn’t help but pick up on that one word.

  Harper released a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Roman and I . . . it didn’t work. We tried.” Pain slipped through her tone as she opened her eyes. “But the team doesn’t know, and I don’t want things to be awkward, so I’ve tried really damn hard to act as normal as possible around everyone. I’d rather they not know. Okay?”

  Ohh. And wow, she hadn’t seen that coming. She’d noticed the flirting and the stolen looks between the two, so Harper and Roman were either amazing actors, or they still had intense feelings for each other. Feelings they were unable to deny, especially if all it took was a song to trigger a reaction like that one. “I won’t breathe a word,” she answered, a hand to her heart.

  Harper nodded, forced a smile, then sidestepped her and headed back outside.

  “You forgot the wine.” She turned to find Harper already gone. Rory shook off her surprise, knowing she’d need to keep Harper’s secret from Chris. It wasn’t her secret to share.

  Rory had just started for the door to the terrace when she stopped at the sight of Chris inside the hall, a fist to the wall, his head bowed, and a phone to his ear.

  “What is it?” she asked softly, preparing for bad news based on his body language.

  “I’ll call you back when I know.” He paused for a few seconds. “Yeah, if your connection is spotty, I’ll shoot you a text. Okay. See you when you get here,” Chris said in a low voice, his tone gritty. He lifted his head and slowly faced Rory. “Jessica and everyone, well,
they’re on their way here. Carter and some of his men, too, but in another plane since we took his jet.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “Why? What’d they find out?”

  Chris held a phone tight in his palm at his side as she cut the space between them down to a foot. “Carter and the guys got Santiago to tell them more. And he said there is one man who can identify The Italian. That there was only one man who was the go-between guy for Santiago and The Italian.”

  “Andrew,” she murmured, already knowing that truth in her core—so deep she’d ignored it. He’d been her mentor, her teacher, her boyfriend, and now he was her enemy.

  “I have to show you something. I’d rather not, but Jessica needs confirmation.” Chris’s face conveyed a mess of emotions that filled Rory with dread.

  “What?” she whispered, feeling the blood drain from her face as she took in Chris’s haunted expression.

  “Jessica found some images that had supposedly been deleted from cyberspace, but I guess nothing is ever really gone.” He opened the phone someone on the team must’ve given him, and he went to the text messages. “She thinks Rebecca had an affair with Cutter, and then he blackmailed her. The man’s face is blurred in the photos, so we need to see if you can, um, tell if it’s him.”

  Rory cupped a hand to her mouth as she viewed photos of a man and woman in bed. He was naked and on top of her, and looking closer at the woman’s face, it was clear that it was Rebecca.

  And now she knew why Chris looked like he’d been hit by a truck.

  Having to ask this of her was killing him. Hoping she could identify a man with whom she’d had a relationship by showing her photos of that man having sex with another woman.

  A quick swipe through five images had her hurriedly handing the phone back to him. “Yeah, that’s Andrew.”

  Chris’s lips drew tight as he brought his eyes back to hers with what appeared to be much difficulty. Rory felt guilty for putting him through this.

  He wanted to kill Andrew for ever having known her, didn’t he? For putting Rory in danger. For sleeping with her when he was deep into criminal activity.

  “But why is everyone rushing here? I thought they were going to pick up Andrew and his team for questioning?” she sputtered at the memory. “If Andrew knows The Italian’s identity, we need to get back to Puerto Rico ASAP instead of them coming here.”

  “Cutter wasn’t on the ship. Maybe he was in Puerto Rico at some point, but he left. He only wanted people to think he was aboard his vessel.”

  “What?” No, that can’t be right.

  “My team went to apprehend him and discovered some other guy who had an uncanny resemblance to Brad Pitt. Hell, for a second, Liam thought it was Brad.”

  “If he tricked us, then . . . where is he?”

  He pocketed the phone and motioned to the terrace door. “Jessica thinks Andrew is headed for—”

  “Me,” she finished at the chilling realization. “He’s on his way here.”

  “Or already here. We need to tell the others.” Chris stepped through the open terrace door, Rory following behind, but they both stilled at the sight of a man barging onto the terrace through the opposite door.

  Dark-haired, tall, and muscular, the man was dressed in black slacks and a black dress shirt, the top two buttons undone. Everything about him screamed dangerous and fierce. Especially the brutal manner with which he held another guy by the scruff of the neck and forced him to move forward. With one quick movement, he abruptly released the man with a shove.

  “Tell them what you know.” His voice was deep and highlighted with an Irish brogue. When there was no response, he crouched alongside the guy who was now on all fours looking like the loser in an MMA fight. “Not going to talk?” With a swift yank, he grabbed the guy off the ground and forced him to his feet, then tossed a quick look toward Rory. “One second,” he said casually while drawing a knife from his pocket.

  “Meet Sebastian Renaud.” Emilia introduced the Irish League leader as she approached where Sebastian had backed the man up to the ledge of the terrace. That’d be a long drop over the edge.

  Danny? Is that really you? Rory tried to get a better look at him, but Chris kept her clasped to his side and away from the action.

  There were subtle differences in Danny’s facial features—he’d had a nose job for sure, and the angle of his chin was sharper. He was dressed in khaki pants and a polo shirt instead of his usual raggedy jeans and T-shirt, and his blond hair was now brown. He’d also shaved his beard.

  But yeah, that was Danny. No doubt in her mind.

  Rory pressed up on her toes and whispered in Chris’s ear, “We need to tell your team that Andrew might be on his way.” Or is already here.

  He reached for Rory’s hand, and they hurried toward the table where his teammates stood, captivated by the scene playing out before them starring Sebastian and Danny.

  Chris quickly spoke to Wyatt, who then motioned to Finn and the two men immediately made their way back into the estate.

  Okay, bases covered. Good.

  Now she could focus on the issue at hand—Danny, faced with the intimidating presence and intense wrath of Sebastian Renaud, who was clutching the front of his polo shirt and bending him backward over the terrace wall. When Sebastian leaned in and pressed a knife to Danny’s throat, Rory was sure Danny must have been close to pissing his pants. “Tell. Them. Now.” Sebastian’s tone was low. Not a roar and definitely not a whisper. It was the perfect amount of talk or die to scare someone to pieces.

  Hell, I’m scared of you.

  Chris hooked a protective arm around Rory’s side, but she had to wonder who he was protecting her from. The billionaire vigilante who clearly didn’t need a Bat-suit and a voice changer to make his point? Or Danny, who looked so incapacitated that Rory could probably take him down alone?

  A.J. and Harper moved closer to where Rory and Chris stood, but Roman and Emilia now flanked Sebastian and Danny.

  “Where’s Sean?” Emilia set a hand to Sebastian’s back, and based on her nonchalant manner, one would think this was an everyday occurrence for Emilia.

  Still maintaining his grip on Danny, Sebastian peered back at Emilia before his gaze swiveled over to Rory and the others. After giving them an unexpected but polite nod, he fixed his eyes back on his target, a man Rory had once trusted with her life. “Talk. She’s here like you wanted. Don’t make me break my promise to my wife not to kill again.”

  Again? Rory shuddered at the intensity of the moment. She’d been in sticky situations before, but this felt different. There was an element of finality that she’d not felt until now.

  “Let me up, and I’ll talk,” Danny shouted, finally breaking his silence.

  Sebastian set Danny back to his feet. He rolled his shoulders and adjusted the cuffs of his black pressed shirt. Intimidating wasn’t even a strong enough word for that man.

  “Rory?” Danny’s right eye was swollen from what looked like one too many elbows in the face, probably by Sebastian. “That really you?”

  “More like are you really Danny?” she countered, doing her best not to let her emotions and the fact he’d betrayed her get to her.

  Before Danny could answer, the terrace door flung open again, which had Roman pulling a gun out from beneath his shirt. Do they all have guns? Does Chris? She lifted her hand to Chris’s back and found the bulk there.

  “Relax,” Emilia said, folding her arms over her chest. “That’s Sean McGregor.”

  So, what were the qualifications for joining The League aside from having lots of money? Rory peered back and forth between Sean, Sebastian, and Emilia. Hot?

  “I’ve seen billionaires on the news, and none of them look like this,” Harper commented to Rory, doing that ventriloquist thing with her lips again, and also, reading Rory’s thoughts. “And he has a twin who flies helos?”

  “Right?” Rory whispered out of the corner of her mouth as Chris hugged Rory closer to him. Chris was her guy
, though. And to her, no one could compare.

  Sean, the tall, handsome blond counterpart to Sebastian’s dark good looks, stowed his phone in his pocket, then removed his black jacket and tossed it onto a chair arm at the dining table. “Nice to meet you all. Sorry about the circumstances, but we’re happy to help.” Sean’s Irish brogue lilted through the air as his eyes traveled around the terrace, landing on Emilia last with a slight tip of the head in hello. “He talk yet?” he asked Sebastian.

  “No.” Sebastian clenched his hands into fists at his sides as though preparing to wage battle on Danny’s face again. “I despise smugglers. And I have no problem treating you the way you’ve been treating innocent people for years. Understood?”

  “We found your guy in a hotel in Cosenza,” Sean said to Rory.

  Cosenza? Rory almost fell to her knees, knowing in her heart what that meant. And in her head, this was confirmation that Andrew was guilty as sin. She didn’t even need the photos of him and Rebecca to prove it.

  She’d been blind. So blind to everything.

  “Cosenza,” she quietly murmured the name of the city. “That’s where we met on that dig with Andrew,” she managed to say next. Her words were for Danny, but she felt the others’ attention shift from Danny to her, searching for meaning. “He wanted us here in Italy, didn’t he?”

  Danny opened his mouth, but instead of speaking, he wiped what appeared to be a trickle of blood from his lip. And wow, Sebastian hadn’t taken any shortcuts during his “talk” with Danny before coming there. Did Sebastian beat him up while his driver drove?

  No, don’t feel guilty for Danny. He lied. Used you.

  “Cutter knew it’d only be a matter of time before you and Carter put it all together. Before you discovered his greatest secret of all.” Danny touched his mouth again, blood smearing his fingers.

  “That Andrew is The Italian.” The truth poured out hot and fast, and her stomach squeezed at the horrible ugliness that had been staring her in the face, and she had missed it before now.

  Had some subconscious part of her always known that ugly truth?

  “You’re bait. Cutter wanted us to find you, right?” Chris hissed at the realization they’d been set up.