by Lucy Score
“That was a desperate move on my part. Waverly had finally resurfaced, and I had no way to get in touch with her. I knew she had to be wondering where I was, but I couldn’t reach out in any of the usual ways for fear of Brad realizing I hadn’t been shot and dumped in the woods as I assume were his orders. I didn’t know if Waverly knew she could be a target, too. So I asked Petra to make an appearance without giving her the details on why. We’ve become… close, and she was happy to help.”
“You knew I’d track her down,” Waverly filled in.
“I know you,” Dante said, grinning at her. “You’re tenacious. You wouldn’t let that opportunity to grill Petra on what happened pass by.”
“Only we were interrupted,” Waverly sighed.
“Imagine my surprise when she returned home with a virgin trying to solicit prostitutes instead of you,” he quipped.
“And here we are.” Waverly interlaced her fingers and sat back in her chair to process.
“I’m still not buying that you had no way to send a text or an email or make a phone call,” Xavier said.
“I wasn’t kidding about being locked down. Petra is Stepanov’s diamond, his princess. He cut the phone and Internet to the house, confiscated her phone, and threatened us both with my death if we tried anything. We took him seriously. In fact, he’s still royally pissed at me for talking her into going to the club that night. Plus, I couldn’t be sure that Brad hadn’t tapped your phone or hacked your accounts. I imagine he’s got some high up friends who enjoy the benefits of his side work.”
“What makes you say that?” Micah asked.
“I’ve been suspicious for a while,” Dante said. The assignments started changing, and I started asking questions. He told me he was taking on some new assignments. I guess I asked too many questions because I think first priority in Tahoe was to get Petra, and the second priority was to eliminate me.”
“Brad doesn’t know where you are or if you’re alive,” Waverly frowned. “He wasn’t lying about that when I met with him. But if he has someone on the inside at Petra’s, how did he not know you were there?”
“No one but security and the chef have been allowed onsite since Tahoe. And a cleaning crew once a week, but I hide in the closet while they’re there. Security is tight, and they seem pretty loyal to Petra and Grigory. Maybe Anatoli will have an idea? I think he has a crush on you,” he winked at Waverly.
“We’ll be sure to ask him,” Xavier said dryly. “How much time do we have before everyone knows you and Petra are missing?”
“Anatoli texted the house and let them know he’d taken Petra shopping. But I imagine by this afternoon they’ll be putting things together. We should call Grigory before that happens. He’ll be more receptive to hearing you out if he doesn’t know you kidnapped his daughter from his house.”
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Grigory Stepanov was still not very receptive to their news. He steamed and turned a furious red on the video screen in the conference room.
It had been very wise to include Petra and Anatoli on the call, Waverly thought as she watched his daughter, clutching the tiny Pixie to her chest, try to calm her father.
“You were to stay in the house, Petra,” he said, his accent thickening as he desperately tried to control his temper.
Anatoli stepped in to defend the situation and soon an animated discussion was taking place in Russian. They were losing ground and Grigory was refusing to listen.
“Mr. Stepanov,” Waverly stepped in, addressing him in his native language. “This is not an ideal situation for any of us, but your daughter is safe. And that’s what matters right now. However, if Petra is out of the way, I fear you may be the next target. Which I think you have considered and have taken measures to encourage that.”
She glanced around the table. Xavier was grinning at her with pride. Micah’s jaw was on the table.
“And just who in the hell are you?” Grigory snapped.
“Mr. Stepanov, this is the woman who saved Petra, myself, and Yurgei from the gunmen. She is a friend. I promise you that,” Anatoli said fervently.
“Sir, I think we need to speak in person,” Waverly suggested.
The Russian grunted and mopped at his brow. “I feel as if I am walking into a trap. But I would walk anywhere for my little girl.”
“Papa, please come. I miss you, and I would like you to spend more time with Dante as we will be married.”
“Married?” Grigory shrieked.
“Married?” It was Waverly’s turn to be shocked. To Dante, marriage held all the appeal of a firing squad. She wondered if he was aware of Petra’s plans.
“Someone please tell me what the hell is going on,” Xavier asked. “All I caught was gunmen and married.”
Petra and her father were yelling again and when Dante put an arm around Petra’s shoulders to comfort her, Grigory howled in rage.
“Dante, if you value your life, please stop touching Petra right now,” Waverly hissed in English.
“I will meet you,” Grigory said also in English, finally regaining a modicum of calm. “If only to kill this man!”
And the calm was gone.
“I’m starting to like this Stepanov guy,” Xavier whispered to Waverly.
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The house Roz procured for them was a rambling eight-bedroom Spanish villa in Malibu. It sat on two manicured acres behind thick brick walls and an iron gate. The neighborhood itself was gated as well. The interior was all rustic beams, graceful arched doorways, and timber ceilings. Bedrooms were divvied up, and everyone dispersed to claim their space.
Roz had done an impressive job stocking it with all the necessities from toothbrushes to frozen pizza.
Grigory arrived alone that evening, adding to the fleet of luxury SUVs already in the drive and garage. He was a short, stern little man whose eyes shone like diamonds when they looked at his daughter. Xavier noted that they showed something like malice when they looked in Dante’s direction.
Through stilted discussions, Xavier and Micah were able to assure Grigory that they were here to help. And after a long chat with Anatoli, during which Xavier was convinced that the man did have a significant crush on Waverly that sprung from her saving his life, they were able to identify the possible inside source.
Target Productions had been in preliminary talks with Petra over a reality show starring foreign heiresses as they navigated the L.A. scene. To sweeten the deal, the studio had hooked her up with a part-time assistant who managed her calendar. Xavier had to admit he was impressed with Target’s creativity. When Petra had been identified as an asset to the negotiations, they most likely made contact with her under the guise of a show business deal. What better way to keep tabs on a target?
To Xavier, it made sense that Target’s moonlighting wasn’t limited to just acting talent. Having a stable of behind-the-scenes spies could come in handy for assignments or run-of-the-mill blackmail, he mused. From the outside, it looked as though Brad Tomasso was building his own intelligence network.
However, since Petra’s untimely lockdown, the assistant had communicated with her through Stepanov’s security and had what Anatoli referred to as “a cow” when they hadn’t told her in advance about Petra’s spontaneous outing to the club.
Xavier and Micah agreed that it was enough that it warranted another call to Travers. The ever rumpled, ever grumpy Travers arrived after dark and took one look at the assembled crew and shook his head. “I’m out,” he announced.
Kate surreptitiously locked the front door behind him, blocking his escape.
“You haven’t even heard what’s going on yet,” Micah said, putting a hand on Malachi’s shoulder and helpfully shoving him toward the house’s library. “Come on in, take a load off, and then tell us to fuck off.”
Waverly plied him with coffee and a plate of the apple crumble Anatoli, the man of many talents, had made as his contribution to dinner.
Settled in around the library’s walnut table, Xavier laid it all out—minus what could have been misconstrued as a kidnapping, as well as the stickiness of Grigory sort of holding Dante prisoner.
Travers had the reaction Xavier had expected.
“Why is it everything with you guys is a freaking mess? Can’t you just stick to protecting celebrities?”
“Malachi, don’t tell me you don’t want in on this,” Waverly said, turning those big eyes his way. Xavier felt pity for the man who didn’t yet realize that he had no chance against her persuasion.
“Look, from what you’ve told me, this has to go higher than someone in the Special Collection Service. This has to be someone with oversight. Maybe even Joint Intelligence Community Council. There’s no way that Tomasso is operating out of bounds without someone serious in his corner. You sure you want to stir up this hornets’ nest?”
“Yes,” Xavier, Waverly, Micah, Chelsea, and Grigory chorused.
“First off, we can’t start digging based on the detective work of a hacker,” Travers cautioned. “No offense,” he tossed out to Chelsea.
“None taken,” she said, with a feline smile. Xavier narrowed his eyes at her. He was just getting used to seeing his sister as a hacker. He wasn’t ready to see her as a woman yet.
“We need legal reasonable cause before I can take this anywhere,” Malachi continued. “Even the SEC is going to want something actionable before they go after the biotech firm or the studio.”
“So how do we get something legally actionable?” Waverly asked.
“California is two-party consent, so without a warrant, I can’t just send you in there with a wire and get Tomasso to spill his guts to you.”
“We wouldn’t be putting Waverly in that position in the first place, would we?” Xavier said coldly. He knew how the FBI would want to play it. Waverly holding all the cards was the best bait they could have in luring Brad out into the open and making an actionable threat. And that was not happening.
No one was putting her in harm’s way. Not this time and not ever again.
Waverly, of course, had other ideas. “What if an agent personally overhears a conversation that concerns him? He’d be ethically required to pass it on up the chain, wouldn’t he?” she asked.
Xavier’s fingers tightened reflexively on the arms of his chair. Their talk tonight was also going to involve her reckless willingness to become a target.
Travers reluctantly agreed. “That would warrant some phone calls, but these are Russian nationals,” he pointed out. “I don’t have jurisdiction.”
“But it’s an American company that’s playing espionage games with private entities, including one U.S. Senator who was blackmailed into retiring and supporting his successor,” Waverly argued. She pushed a file at him.
“Where’d you get this?” he asked, eyes skimming the text.
“This would be a very nice success on your bureau record. Are you in or out?” Xavier asked him.
Travers looked down at the file again. “Fuck it. I’m in.”
“We’ll get another room ready,” Xavier nodded.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
It was well past midnight by the time Xavier and Waverly closed the door to their bedroom. It was actually a private apartment on the third floor secluded away from the rest of the house. A queen-sized wicker bed dressed in white sat under the room’s white washed rafters and faced glass doors that led to a tiny balcony where a bright sliver of moon was visible in the sky. In the corner, a small fireplace was ready to push off the autumn chill. The bathroom was charming with a Spanish tile floor, a small but serviceable walk-in shower, and a copper soaking tub.
It was a beautiful room in a beautiful house, but Waverly couldn’t help but feel like she was walking onto a battlefield. She’d had all day to think about what she’d say to Xavier and still felt unprepared.
He didn’t bother with the overhead lights or the bed. Xavier prowled across the room to the overstuffed couch along the wall. He slid his jacket off his shoulders and sat down, switching on a lonely lamp.
“Don’t you want to take your shoes off?” Waverly asked, toeing off her sneakers and stretching.
“Not until I’m sure you won’t run tonight.”
She looked down at her bare feet and back up at him.
“Never stopped you before.”
He was right, of course. She’d once jumped off of a yacht and swam to shore to get away from things she couldn’t control. He’d jumped after her and chased her down. The memory of that night slid over her skin like a warm caress.
Xavier had been there catching her when she fell, chasing her when she ran, and holding her when she stopped. And then one day he hadn’t been. It had taken her a long time to come to terms with that. It had taken even longer before she understood that she was responsible for herself. She couldn’t blame anyone else for holding her back. Couldn’t point the finger at someone who shoved her forward when she wasn’t ready. Couldn’t depend on someone else to clean up her messes. In the end, she was responsible for herself, and somewhere along the line, she’d come to like it.
But none of that took into account the feelings she had tangled up in Xavier Saint. Love to her was complicated and messy. She didn’t know if she was ready to make room for complicated and messy.
She sat down on the coffee table in front of him. “I don’t know where to start,” she said.
“You and Wrede,” Xavier stated, his voice low and quiet. But she heard the thick emotion there. He’d held it in all day giving orders, making arrangements, coordinating his small, rag-tag army, all to keep her safe once again. And now she owed him answers.
“We were never together,” she admitted in a rush. “It’s not good to mix personal feelings with a working relationship. We worked well together, but it never went beyond friendship. I trusted him to have my back, but our romantic relationship was a fiction created by agents and movie studios and exploited by Brad.”
He stared at her, dazed and hurt, and then closed his eyes.
“You made me think I was delivering the love of your life to you. I thought that you’d choose him over me! Why the hell would you do that to me? I’ve been gutted over this, Waverly!”
Her heart twisted painfully in her chest. “You knew it wasn’t like that with Dante. You told me how you deduced that our relationship wasn’t as serious as it was made out to be.”
“You know I don’t think straight with you. Everything gets tied up and inside out because all I see is you. All I feel is how much I want you and how nothing else is ever enough for me. Evidence was pointing me in that direction, but I still felt like there was a man between us, that you loved someone who wasn’t me. That’s a cold thing to do, Waverly.”
“That’s how I operate now, X. You know how hard it was for me to trust anyone before you came along. So you can imagine how it went after you walked out.”
He swore quietly. He moved restlessly on the couch, his elbows on his knees and then pushing back to lean against the cushion. “You told me you loved Dante.” His fingers dug into his thighs.
She nodded. “That wasn’t a lie. I love him like a friend, a brother. Not like…” she trailed off, not willing to say the words. “Not like I led you to believe.”
“Why would you do that to me? You knew why I came back. You knew I loved you. You knew I wanted to marry you.”
“That’s exactly why,” she said in exasperation. “X, I have no way to protect myself when I’m around you. You broke my heart, and I still want to be near you. I can’t stop myself. If you’re in the room, I’m gravitating to you. And when you touch me?” She shook her head. “Nothing else in the world exists in that moment.”
He took a shaky breath and reached for her hand. “Do you think that happens with just anyone? Because it doesn’t.”
She shook her head again. “I know it doesn’t, Xavier. But I can’t go back to what we were. It can’t be you pro
tecting me from life. I need a partnership. I need someone who trusts me and believes in me, who doesn’t think I’m weak and vulnerable.”
He studied her, emotions strong behind his eyes.
She changed tactics. “Do you know why I pursued this work?”
He shrugged. “You wanted to call your own shots. You wanted control and excitement.”
“I wanted to be closer to you. And I didn’t figure that out until you came back.” That motivating factor hadn’t hit her until she’d seen him there on the beach in Belize with that cocky grin and eyes that followed her everywhere. “We didn’t fit into each other’s worlds before. The only way we worked together was in bed. In every other situation, you were in charge. You were a guardian. That’s not a sustainable relationship. I wanted to be your equal, not your dependent.”
“I worship you, Angel. Don’t tell me that’s not enough,” his voice jagged with pain.
“I want even more than that from you, Xavier. I need more than that.”
“Tell me what you need, Waverly. You know I’ll move mountains to give you what you want.”
She held his chin in her free hand. His beard prickled against the skin of her palm. “I want you to see me as an equal and treat me that way. I want you to believe in my abilities and trust me. I’m good at what I do. I’m not that impulsive kid jumping off yachts or running away from home. I’m solid, and I need you to see that. It tore me up when you lost it at Petra’s house about me leaving with Dante.”
“I didn’t trust them, Waverly. What if they’d turned on you? What if it was you against all of them?” She could hear the panic in his voice.
“X, your instincts were telling you they were okay. But you got it all tangled up and I get that. I do. You haven’t worked with me. You don’t know what I’m capable of. But what I’m asking is for a chance to prove myself. Let me prove to you that I can be trusted. And in return, I’ll give you the chance to show me you can be trusted.”
