8. EMBEDDED
EIGHT
embedded
Hudson
The women take their seats at the long oak table where we were told to wait. Enzo and I sit on one side, Luna and Pippa across from us. The one I don’t know anchors herself at the head of the table, with Niko rounding out the table at the other end. No one has offered formal introductions yet.
Kind of rude, if you ask me.
I scanned the room while we waited and found myself both impressed and a little giddy.
It’s a luxe version of an FBI war room—even fancier than anything my billionaire best friend has built at his estate.
State-of-the-art tech owns a back corner with workstations, monitors, whiteboards, and meticulous files that line the wall.
We are in the corner across from that area in a lounge.
The long table is offset by leather sofas and chairs that scream luxury.
Luna’s fingerprint is woven throughout both spaces—her pops of bright color and ‘90s nostalgia cutting through the otherwise lethal aesthetic. Just like her desk at work.
A third corner is an arsenal big enough to arm a small country.
Concerning to say the fucking least. The corner they hurried to for their huddle sits behind room dividers through which I can see stainless countertops and pristine lab stations peeking through.
I guess that chemistry minor of Pippa’s wasn’t just for fun.
The one who is clearly in charge starts. “The three of us work together.”
Obviously. I don’t like how calm they are for people whose operation just got exposed.
“Professionally,” she adds. “That’s all you need to know for now.”
Enzo asks, “Who do you work for?”
All three scoff. My Jane answers first. “What, because we’re women, we must be working for someone else? Fuck you.”
God, that fire of hers is such a fucking turn on.
Their leader cuts in again. Seriously, anyone planning on any introductions? “We don’t work for anyone. We’ve been using our positions in Washington—mine in security, Luna’s at the Bureau, Pippa’s in political ops—to take down trafficking networks. Quietly. Off the grid.”
“How?” Enzo asks, echoing my thoughts. He’s using his deep mafia-boss tenor, which usually means he’s trying to intimidate or he’s worried. I’m not sure which this time, but I clock that no one at this table flinches. Damn.
“No one knows us,” the brunette replies.
She has this whole military-chic vibe going for her.
“Not really. We do well in our fields, but we stay off the radar. Luna’s hacking got her recruited by the FBI.
I built Redline Solutions to serve the rich and powerful.
And Pippa swims through DC secrets like it’s her private pool. ”
Redline is a top name in private security.
It’s run by an ex-CIA agent named Sinclair.
Damn, is this her? Admittedly, I should know this.
But she’s right, they do know how to stay off the radar.
They aren’t on the FBI’s watchlist for nefarious purposes, like many other private security firms in the area.
Luna cuts through my thoughts, steady as ever. “We use what we find to pick targets, then we take them down. Digital, legal, financial—whatever we need to do to guarantee they can never hurt anyone again.”
This aligns with Eva’s theory about TruthDrop. If Luna has a hand in those file dumps, it’s no wonder no agencies have been able to track them.
Pippa taps her long, perfectly manicured nails on the wood tabletop as she stares at Enzo. “We hit them where they’re weakest—their ego. Nothing like a tall redhead with an Ivy League degree and a fake crush to dismantle a power-hungry sociopath.”
Damn, that’s hot. I want her to dismantle my—
“So that’s why you were with McCarter,” Enzo says.
She meets his gaze and holds it. Neither confirming nor denying.
He arches a brow. “So,” he says, voice dripping with condescension, “you sleep with them. Then what?”
I shoot him a look that says ‘maybe don’t insult the vigilante assassins who somehow convinced us to voluntarily give up our weapons.’ Christ, that Italian hotheadedness of his is going to get us killed one day.
“Aw. Are you jealous, Enzo?” Pippa taunts, eyes glinting.
He refuses to give her the satisfaction. Enzo directs his attention to Ms. Sinclair, voice calm but probing. “Who else are you working with?”
She doesn’t flinch. “What makes you think there’s anyone else?”
I shift, aiming for less heat than Enzo. “It just seems big. For three people.”
Pippa tips her chin. “You mean women. What you’re really wondering is how three women could dismantle empires without a man behind the curtain.”
Enzo starts, “That’s not what I—”
“Relax,” Luna cuts in, smile sweet and sharp. “We’re used to men underestimating us. It’s our superpower.” Having worked beside her for years, I know she’s right.
Ms. Sinclair leans forward, eyes cold. “We don’t need a team. We are the team.”
Pippa glares at Enzo. “And considering the bodies piling up, I’d say we’re doing just fine.”
Enzo’s jaw sets. “One last question. Some of your targets are obvious—everyone knows Troy and his cronies are mixed up in this shit—but some of those targets are on my client roster.” A statement, not a question.
The women wait, silent. They’re good.
“How did you get intel we didn’t? If any of my clients touched trafficking, we would have handled it.”
Luna answers quickly. “Our research says you don’t touch that world. Neither did the Lucianos before you. Even with Hudson running cover all these years”—she throws me an annoyed look—“your family’s stance on the exploitation of women and children is loud and clear.”
Enzo nods once. Stoic. But I know he’s fucking livid that his clients were doing this right under his nose.
“These men have been doing this longer than we’ve all been alive. And they have powerful friends to cover their tracks. Your business is money, weapons, intimidation. Without the kind of dedicated focus we’ve had for years, anyone could miss it.”
Enzo says nothing.
I know they aren’t telling us the whole story, but I know they don’t plan to either.
“Jules and Luna aren’t giving you enough credit, boys,” Pippa says sweetly.
“You told a bunch of politicians not to hurt women and children. You probably said it all big and bad like, too.” She does a slow clap, and I can feel the heat rising off Enzo’s skin.
“That did it! That solved the whole problem. Let’s give these boys an award. ”
“Pippa,” Jules hisses.
Luna levels a glare her way.
“No, ladies, come on. These men are the real heroes. They laundered the money of criminals, provided them with weapons and protection, all while turning a blind eye. Probably assumed these dirty politicians were just using your protection to help the poor, right? Tell us, how many millions have you made this year alone? Surely with all that bravado about not harming women or children, you used some of that profit to help victims, yeah?”
Seeing my Jane all fiery has me ready to put her over my knee. The few times she’s let me do that—
“You’re right,” Enzo surprises me when he quietly responds. “We haven’t done enough.”
“So where do we go from here?” I ask before Pippa can fire back.
The silence says we are all worried about the same thing.
“We told you what we can,” Pippa says. “Are you going to stay out of our way or be a problem?” She says it like a dare, like she would enjoy the wrong answer.
Enzo answers too eagerly. “We’ll help.”
“What now?” I blink at him.
Around the table I hear a chorus of “no, thank you,” “no way,” and I am pretty sure an “oh, fuck no” from my girl.
Enzo shrugs, as if it’s already been decided. “We have reach, resources, direct lines to several of these men. If we can help take them down, we should. As you said, we’re not doing enough.”
“And because your savior complex is acting up, we’re supposed to let you in on the action?” Jules asks pointedly.
Damn, she clocked him. Impressive. Enzo calls it protection, honor, even duty. I call it his Achilles heel. The compulsion to take care of those around him burdens his every move. What I don’t know is when he decided these three needed his protection.
If Enzo is ruffled by Jules calling him out, he does not show it. He doesn’t respond, either.
“I am sorry your pristine criminal empire got a little dirty,” Jules continues, cool as ice, “but we did not ask for backup. We do not need rescuing.”
Enzo tries another angle. “If you do not want our help, fine. Don’t confuse that with our continued ignorance. I can’t unsee this. I will not sit back.”
Pippa smiles without warmth. “On the record,” Pippa says in a tone sweet enough to rot. “Was that a threat?”
Niko stiffens and so do I.
Enzo’s tone is even but not calm. “No. It is a promise that if you do not let us in, someone else will come sniffing around.”
Huh. He’s worried someone else will find them. Savior complex in-fucking-deed.
The women look at each other, contemplating.
I aim for reason. “He isn’t wrong. If we found you, others can, too.”
Jules scoffs. “Just because Enzo got hot and bothered by Pippa does not mean we are on anyone’s radar.”
Enzo’s jaw ticks at the comment, but he doesn’t deny it.
“Pippa, Jules, maybe it’s worth considering a controlled partnership, a trial alliance,” Luna suggests. “It could—”
Pippa folds her arms. “Are you serious?”
Right as Jules says, “Absolutely not.”
Pippa turns back to us. “Next step is simple—you leave. If we need anything, we’ll say so. Any pressure? We go dark.”
I meet her eyes. “Oh, is that all?”
“No surveillance. No back channels. No reaching out to any of the men on that wall,” Jules answers. “Violate it and this conversation never happened.”
Enzo opens his mouth.
I put a hand on the table to stop him from making things worse. “We hear you.”
Luna stands. “Good. Then we are done.”
Chairs scrape. With that, everyone disperses from the table. Niko, Enzo and I take our leave. Jules escorts us out to where Luca waits by the car. She returns our phones and our guns, emptied of ammo.