Chapter 26
Mateo rushed into his hotel room, dropping everything he carried and rushing toward the bathroom.
He only had a few hours before he would meet up with Donovan to head to Solstice for Glow Night.
He had spent the morning and afternoon in conferences with various team members.
There were numerous logistics to attend to while preparations were made for the upcoming nationwide raid, and the surveillance on the temple of The Veil.
He had spent hours doing undercover prep with Jones.
During breaks, Mateo reviewed the finer points of his cover with Darcy, called in to see how Smith’s efforts with Caleb were going, and consulted with Williams on the proposal for the undercover operation.
There had even been time for a quick call to Valentina during his lunch break.
Angelica had been at school, but he’d been content enough with a report that she was safe and eating and sleeping as she should.
Lessons at her new ballet school began last week and she already like her instructor.
There wasn’t much time for him to shower and get dressed before heading to Melody’s apartment.
He would need to approach carefully, making sure he wasn’t seen or followed before he could climb up to her balcony.
Her text had been on his mind since it came through last night, sending a spike of unease through him.
He hadn’t responded, unsettled by her sudden message after their casual flirtation earlier.
The suddenness of it had him wondering if something had happened.
Whatever it was, she couldn’t risk a phone call or a more detailed text. Something was wrong.
Mateo fought to calm his racing thoughts while speeding through a shower and a change of clothes.
Melody was probably just nervous about Korenic coming back to town.
She needed him to reassure her that he had things well in hand, that she was safe.
He could give her that before shifting his focus to his mission for the night.
Maybe seeing each other beforehand would be a good idea—making it easier for them to pretend to ignore one another once they were at Solstice.
He would hold her, kiss her, and reassure her, and everything would be fine.
It would be easier to give her those reassurances after the revelations of the past few days and the progress that had been made.
Once he was dressed, his eyes fell on his laptop, which sat open on the desk. He tapped a key to unlock it and typed in his passkeys. There were several layers of security to get through before he could access the encrypted government-issue computer, and he performed them all mechanically.
It was probably too soon for him to get anything interesting off the Korenic penthouse wiretap; the man had only just arrived that morning and probably hadn’t spent much time at home.
Still, the software indicated that a few recordings were waiting to be listened to.
The wire had picked up a conversation or two.
He had showered and changed quickly enough to have time to listen before leaving.
Sinking into the chair, Mateo took up his earbuds and connected them.
He poured himself a half-tumbler of Scotch before pressing play on the first one.
It was nothing but the sounds of Roman arriving at the penthouse, his luggage being dragged across the carpet, and orders being barked at a maid.
Mateo closed the audio file and pulled up another, this one a phone call.
Korenic was talking to someone in a foreign language that Mateo couldn’t decipher, his tone sharp and ruthless.
His accent was thicker in his native tongue, the syllables curving off his tongue and the consonants biting.
He ended the call with a string of what sounded like curses before the sound of something crashing against a wall exploded in Mateo’s ear.
The next two recordings were similar, with Mateo growing bored and checking the time as he came to the end.
There was one more recording, and it was longer than the others.
Significantly longer. Had Korenic had a visitor?
Sitting up straight, Mateo pressed play. Roman’s voice came through first, so loud that Mateo had to turn down the volume to keep from cringing. The man was clearly pissed.
“I don’t want excuses, you pathetic fuck! I want answers! What’s the use of having NOPD in our pocket if shit like this is going to happen?”
No response that Mateo could hear, which meant this was likely another phone call.
Mateo took another sip of Scotch, settling in for another snoozer.
It occurred to him that he might be right that Korenic wasn’t the UNSUB.
He had heard the UNSUB’s voice twice now, and there had been no hint of a foreign accent.
“I want Suede’s head dipped in gold and mounted on my mantel. I want Morrison’s balls in a jar. I want Wilson’s fucking tongue on a silver platter! Those motherfuckers will have everyone else thinking they can go running to the feds for protection. I won’t stand for it!”
A thump and a curse. Footsteps. Then, a slow, long sniff and a groan. Mateo inclined his head, pretty certain he’d just heard Korenic take a bump of cocaine. His theory was proven when Korenic sniffed again. Aggressively.
“You think I give a fuck about that bitch’s family? I want them all … the kids, the fucking dog, the goldfish. I want to send a message, and I want it sent now!”
More shuffling around. A second voice murmuring in the background.
Mateo frowned, leaning closer to the laptop as if that would help matters.
Remembering the volume, he turned it up.
Someone else was in the penthouse, maybe on a phone call of their own in the next room.
The voice was muffled and low, female. Mateo wondered if the maid was still hanging around.
“New Orleans is dead. It’ll stay that way for at least a couple of months while we lay low. I want any remaining cargo taken out of the state. Get on the phone with that asshole from Memphis … you know the guy. Tell him we need transport ASAP.”
Mateo heard the sound of something slamming against a surface, then another impact, this one harder. Something splintered or cracked, likely under Roman’s fist. The man was having a tantrum, bellowing and cursing while pacing. Mateo could hear his rushed breaths and heavy footsteps.
“Roman … baby, relax.”
The second voice. Louder. Closer. Definitely female.
A low vibration hummed in Mateo’s gut, rippling out to the tips of his fingers and toes. Clearly, he was hearing things. The woman’s voice had sounded … familiar.
“Don’t tell me to fucking relax,” Korenic snapped. “Those asshole feds just destroyed an entire branch of my business overnight.”
The sounds of his movements had stilled, and Mateo held his breath, waiting for a reply from Korenic’s companion. His lungs burned through the long silence, the sound of a drawer opening and closing, more footsteps.
“Come on, baby. This’ll take the edge off.”
Roman sniffed again, this time releasing a heavy sigh of relief. “Oh, fuck, that’s some good shit. Gimme some more … no, put it on your … yes, right there … come here.”
Another sniff, and then a wet sound that made Mateo’s stomach wrench violently. Someone’s skin being kissed, licked.
“There you go,” she purred. “Feeling better already.”
Mateo’s chest heaved as he now felt as if he’d taken in too much air. His lungs swelled, and he was drowning, choking, dying by excruciating degrees.
“Melody.”
Her name fell from his lips, a prayer, a desperate plea. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be her.
But it was her. Mateo couldn’t ignore what his ears told him as every conversation they’d ever had overwhelmed his mind.
The truth made itself more apparent with every word.
Her tone, her inflection, her cadence. He knew them all.
He knew them as he knew her scent and her taste and the feel of her wrapped around him.
“… what the fuck I’m going to do.”
Mateo flinched, realizing he’d lost hold of the conversation.
He was reeling, feeling as if he’d been punched in the gut.
But he couldn’t let himself experience the full realization of what he was hearing yet.
Not until he knew everything. Not until he proved to himself that this was some kind of misunderstanding or mistake.
There was no mistaking what he heard when Melody spoke again. The voice coming at him was hard, icy, cold. Nothing like his sweet baby girl.
“Look at me, baby. Who are you?”
Korenic sniffed again and grunted. “I’m Roman fucking Korenic.”
“That’s right. You’re in charge … you run this shit. If anybody can fix this, it’s you. The feds don’t know who they’re fucking with.”
“Damn right they don’t. Now, get your sexy ass in the bedroom, face down, ass up. I missed my lutka.”
Mateo frowned at the foreign word, snatching up his phone to Google it.
The word was Serbian, and it meant ‘doll.’ He squeezed his eyes closed and gritted his teeth, his jaw aching as he remembered thinking himself that she had the face of a doll.
To hear someone else call her that … to hear her raspy, sensual laugh as her footsteps carried her across the room …
it drove something sharp and hot into his gut.
The heat spread from its middle, exacerbating the pain.
“Yes, Daddy,” came Melody’s reply.