Chapter 31
LOCKE
I watched Jett walk away, torn between wanting to pull him back inside to keep him with me and yelling at him to go faster. The sirens were already blaring, and I had no idea how he would ever get to town without being spotted on the road.
Who the fuck was Jett? What did he know? Who did he work for? Was he going to get in trouble?
It was killing me not knowing, but I cared about him enough to protect him from whatever consequences he was afraid of.
I only wished he’d understood that the Paxis Council hardly ever faced consequences. Our combined wealth, power, and connections were virtually impenetrable.
And as far as anyone knew, no one here had motivation to take out Saleem al-Qadiri, a friend of the family who’d come for a brief visit to pay his respects after the loss of my grandfather.
Liyana and her driver were long gone, whisked away by whatever plan her father had made for them this morning.
I spent the next few minutes checking in with my security team and the remaining driver to make sure everyone was okay, and then I found Concetta.
I made sure the staff had been briefed and that every member of the council who could evacuate had left immediately when the explosion happened.
By now, they were already on boats speeding away to Tunisia, where their planes would inevitably come fetch them later tonight.
Having an emergency evacuation plan in place so the council wasn’t caught together was a requirement at every tournament, though I couldn’t recall the last time one had actually been implemented.
According to emergency protocol, I should be the only council person left on-site since I was the owner.
I heard shouting in Italian as first responders finally arrived on the scene. It felt like it had been hours since the explosion, but in reality, it had only been minutes.
First came the local police, but within half an hour, a team of national police arrived, and with them was an Interpol agent. When he learned I didn’t speak enough Italian to answer questions properly, he switched to English.
“My attorney is on his way,” I said, radiating innocence and confusion. “The man in the vehicle is… was… Saleem al-Qadiri,” I explained. The name was enough to get his attention.
“Who else is here?”
I shook my head and pointed at my ears. “I’m having difficulty hearing you.”
“We’re looking for this man,” he said loudly, turning his phone.
The picture on-screen was of a slightly younger Jett wearing a suit and tie and staring seriously at the camera. The sight made my heart ache and crack.
I wanted nothing more than to have that face here in front of me. To hold it in my palms. To see those lips tip up in an irreverent, teasing smile. To tell him… all the things I hadn’t trusted myself or him enough to say when I’d had the chance.
I met the Interpol agent’s eyes. “I don’t know that man,” I said, my voice ringing with absolute truth.
Because one thing was for sure.
Jethro Davis, the man I’d fallen for, was a ghost.
It took three days before they finally left me alone. The crime scene techs had come and gone. The attorneys and investigators had exhausted their attempts at getting information from me or access to the house.
Thankfully, Liyana’s father—Mehmet al-Qadiri—had started a rumor that Saleem had upset a powerful opposition group when he’d begun pushing a new profit model for his father-in-law’s oil holdings in an attempt to reap more of the earnings for himself.
And it seemed Esteban Alvarado had helped him find the group to pin it on, because now the authorities were chasing their tails, investigating a bunch of leads that would never pan out.
The feint had worked in part because it was based in truth. Al-Qadiri hadn’t been content to wait for his father-in-law to hand over control of their vast fortune. In the end, his greed had led to his downfall.
I could only imagine the guilt and pain Mehmet al-Qadiri was feeling. He’d brought Saleem into the Paxis Council. Taught and mentored him before letting him take the family’s place at the table. He’d thought he’d known who his son-in-law was and believed he was trustworthy.
And he’d been wrong.
Maybe this would finally change al-Qadiri’s opinion about Liyana’s abilities. After all, she had to have understood enough of the game to recognize her husband’s betrayal and act on it. And she’d shown her loyalty to the sanctity of the council over any affection for her husband.
I imagined sacrificing Jett for the council, but that was a nonstarter.
I would never in a million years choose the council over Jett.
Maybe this was selfish. The Paxis Council saved countless lives and prevented wars.
What was one man’s life in comparison? Still, I knew without a doubt I wouldn’t have been able to do what Liyana did.
No matter how much it hurt to know that Jett had lied to me, I still missed him every damn day.
“Please eat, stellina.” Concetta’s voice was laced with concern as she stepped out on the balcony and eyed my untouched dinner. “I am beginning to worry.”
I looked up at her and attempted to smile, but before I could reassure her that I was fine, a familiar voice came through the balcony doors, accompanied by my sister’s rapid steps.
“Maybe he just needs some good dinner company.”
Celeste was a sight for sore eyes. She was sun-tanned and healthy, dressed in a simple light blue T-shirt and soft, wide lounge pants with stylish sneakers. I stood immediately and moved to embrace her.
“Shit, Johnny. Since when are you a hugger?” she murmured into my chest.
The old nickname on her tongue made my eyes sting for reasons that had nothing to do with her.
“I’ve been practicing,” I admitted. “And I could really use one.”
She pulled back and fake-punched my chest. “Why didn’t you call me? I didn’t hear about the explosion until we docked in Grand Cayman.”
I held out a seat for her to join me. “You hungry? Roberto made one of my favorites.”
She glanced at my full plate and up at me. “So I see.”
Concetta had already gone off to the kitchen, not giving Celeste an option of saying no.
We settled into our seats, and I gazed out at the sea, lost in thought again without realizing it.
“Concetta’s worried about you,” she said unnecessarily.
“I’m fine.”
“What happened?”
I turned back to face her. “Saleem al-Qadiri’s car blew up. Killed him instantly.”
“Right, but why?”
I shrugged. “He has some powerful enemies. Apparently.”
“How did they get access to the vehicle? Your security is meticulous.”
That was a great question. One the authorities had asked numerous times. Fortunately, I literally didn’t know the answer, so I could answer truthfully.
“I have no idea. My only guess is that it happened off-site. Liyana took the car into town right before it happened. There’s no telling who had access while she was in the shops.”
Celeste made a sympathetic noise. “I spoke to Liyana on the way here. She seems to be holding up okay. Her family is around her. Their kids are obviously devastated.”
I pressed my lips together but didn’t say anything.
Since I’d never seen or met their kids—or heard Saleem mention them by name, come to think of it—I had no idea how they’d handle his sudden death.
Maybe it would be like the way Celeste and I had handled our own father’s.
Mourning the loss of the parent you never really had.
She took my hand in hers. “Talk to me. This seems to have really hit you hard. I know you looked up to him. Respected him.”
I stretched my shoulders, tilting my head from side to side. “I’m okay.” This was mostly true. I thought I’d known Saleem because of the pretty words he’d said. But his actions showed how wrong I’d been. “Tell me about your trip,” I said, attempting to change the subject.
She went along with it, launching into the story of her trip to the Caribbean, a man she shared a clandestine kiss with there, and the tired refrain of how much one of her friends wanted Celeste to set the two of us up.
I was happy to see she hadn’t held on to her anger at me over our last phone call.
Her food arrived, and she shoveled in bites between stories. I, on the other hand, couldn’t stomach any of it. My gut was twisted with worry and loss.
All of it centered on the man I’d fallen for. The man whose real name I didn’t even know.
“You going to tell me what’s really going on?” she finally asked. “Because Minnie called me. She’s even more worried about you than Concetta is.”
I glanced out at the water. At the turquoise pool below, where Jett had challenged me to a cannonball contest and then wrestled with me like a kid. I hadn’t laughed that hard since Celeste and I had celebrated her twenty-first birthday at a Magic Mike show in Vegas.
I closed my eyes and remembered the male bodies on display, none of them nearly as sexy as Jett’s.
Why him? Why fucking him of all men?
“Talk to me, Johnny,” she murmured.
“I’m in love with someone,” I said, not shocking myself at all, even though the confession itself was a surprise. I’d already admitted it to myself a million times since he’d left.
“Who? And why do you sound so miserable about it? Is she married or something? Is that it?”
Concetta kept her eyes down as she gathered our plates, but I felt the empathy and understanding in her body language nonetheless. She knew. The entire household staff knew. And they missed him almost as much as I did.
“His name is Jett. Or… at least that’s the name he gave me.”
“The name he gave you—Locke, what the hell?”
I started telling her the story, beginning with the Candy Bar lap dance, the way he intrigued me, the attraction I felt—although I kept that part free of details—and how I came to bring him to Italy.
I didn’t mention the job proposition, only the invitation to help me out.
To be with me physically at night and help host the event during the day.
“As your boyfriend?” she asked in surprise.
“No.” I inhaled and exhaled, thrusting my fingers into my hair. “I wanted to keep it a secret. It was… I don’t know. Like an experiment at first. I wasn’t ready for it to change my life or anything.” I huffed out a laugh. “How fucking ironic.”
“What makes you think he’s not who he says he is?”
This part was hard to explain without breaking confidences—both his and the Paxis Council’s.
“Because I had HR run a background check on the name he gave me,” I said shortly. “That’s not the man I knew.”
She nodded slowly. “Well, maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did.”
“Maybe.” I pushed back my chair and gazed out over the water.
In a way, Celeste was right. I didn’t know Jett’s real name or his address. I didn’t know his birthday or who his mother was.
But I knew he loved seashells, and that his blue eyes glowed when he teased me.
I knew how it felt when he chided me to eat healthy salad and forced me to take a break from the stress of my job.
I knew how his mind worked when he assessed a Paxis board, and that he was equally kind to everyone, from my gardeners to the British king’s cousin.
I knew that when I’d been floundering under the weight of responsibility, he’d reminded me that I wasn’t alone.
I knew he could communicate in a million languages, including mine.
And I knew that he’d tried to take me with him when he left.
If I were judging the man by his actions…
“Mmm,” Celeste said, watching my face.
I blinked and turned my gaze to her. “What’s mmm mean?”
“It means… maybe you should track this guy down and talk to him.”
I shot her a look. “You don’t think I’ve thought of that? He’s a ghost, Cellie.”
She frowned. “Because of a measly human resources background check? You own one of the world’s most advanced satellite and navigation software companies.
You have pretty much unlimited money and resources.
You’d think you’d have access to a hacker at the very least.” She shook her head disapprovingly.
“Like, what are you even doing with yourself, Johnny? Jeez.”
I snorted. Then I thought of my contact—the one who’d arranged for the blockade. Now it was my turn to say it. “Mmm.”
The edge of her lip curled up, and she nodded, clearly satisfied. “Uh-huh. There’s the Locke Maris I know and love. Focused and determined, not gonna let a tiny little detail like not knowing a guy’s name or location stop him. Let the hunt begin.”
Concetta had retreated out of hearing distance, so I waved her over and requested a glass of whiskey.
As soon as she was gone, I turned to Celeste. “You’re so fucking right. I am going to find Jett.”
“Damn straight you are,” she agreed. “You’ll make him tell you the truth.”
I looked out at the water and thought of Jett’s eyes.
“And I might tell him a few truths of my own.”