26. COLLISION
TWENTY-SIX
collision
Enzo
Three nights flew by too fast. I was pulled into more meetings at The Vault than I wanted.
I had an itch to punch every dirty politician who insisted we needed to increase production of their laundering.
I wanted to probe about why they needed more cash and faster.
I couldn’t help but think about these Hollywood parties and Jax Novak’s hunt for Sophie.
I wanted to ask my clients, “What do you know about Sophie Delacroix?” “Have you seen her?” “Are you going to these parties?” and my favorite, “Should I fucking kill you now?”
I managed to keep a level head and resisted a killing spree, but it took considerable restraint. I knew supporting Pippa tonight was more important.
I sent Niko and a small crew to south Virginia tonight to deal with an issue we are having with our arms supplier. He’s pissed that Eva and I are both in the field without him. Now he’s checking in with me every fucking five minutes and I’m going to lose it if he doesn’t calm down.
The comms van hums softly around Eva and me. The screens glow in the dark like watchful eyes. Feeds from inside the ballroom scroll past—wide angles, close-ups, security cams piped clean into our system—every angle accounted for. Every variable we could think of.
Doesn’t mean I like it. I understand Niko’s concern; this is a risky endeavor.
There are more armed guards inside that building than there has any right to be.
We are parked two blocks down on the south side entrance of the White House.
Opposite of where all the celebrities and politicians arrive on the red carpet at the north entrance.
Our van looks like any other media van stationed nearby tonight.
We blend in, but that’s still not enough to make me feel at ease.
Everyone I care about is involved in this op; I won’t feel at ease until we are all back home. Safe.
Eva’s headset hangs loosely around her neck. Her fingers fly over a tablet as she toggles between channels. Inside, Pippa, Luna, Hudson, and Jules move through the ballroom with practiced ease, calm voices, and clean check-ins.
I fidget and glance camera to camera, trying to keep an eye on all the moving pieces.
Pippa is easy to spot. She’s wearing a stunning formal red dress in a sea of black gowns. When I first saw her tonight, she took my breath away. Her elegance and grace are unmatched. She told us she chose red symbolically, to reclaim her power from when Sophie made her dye her red hair blonde.
I am so proud of her. Every time she opens up, trusts me, shares with us, my heart expands for her. She’s sunk her claws into my heart and I think I want them there for life.
Hudson, Luna, and Jules are harder to keep eyes on—they are meant to blend in. Each member of the secret service, FBI, and the contracted teams look exactly the same, but we are mic’d for anything urgent.
Eva and I can’t go inside. We are too high profile, too recognizable. We are extra eyes, comms, and the getaway team, if needed. But I don’t like being on the outside looking in.
Eva glances at me. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I say.
She gives me a knowing look.
“No,” I confess. “But I will be.”
She waits for more.
“I don’t think I want to do this anymore,” I admit quietly. “The family business, any of it.”
She studies my face, searching for doubt. She finds none. “Okay. I won’t be upset if it all goes away.”
That isn’t what I expected. I thought she might feel sentimental over my father’s legacy. “Really?”
“I want you alive. Free. Everything else is negotiable.”
“Thank you. I’m sure that seems out of left field,” I admit.
“Not really. It all seems, I don’t know…dirty? Messier than before the veil was lifted?”
“Knowing what they went through, what thousands have survived at the hands of these fucking men,” I hiss.
“And knowing our business helps them…”
“I can’t unknow what we know now.”
“Yeah,” she sighs. “Enzo, we have enough money to never work again.”
“It’s not about the money… I guess I just worry that walking away puts us all at risk.”
She tilts her head, pondering this.
We keep our eyes on the video feeds. Pippa should be introduced to the president after dinner. Her boss arranged the introduction for her and her stupid date, some idiot DC staffer with ambition.
“What if Niko takes over?” Eva suggests, snapping me from my murderous thoughts of Pippa’s date.
“I’ve wondered that, too. It’s an option. I think he and Luca could run things together.”
She tilts her head, then exhales. “I’ve been thinking, too. Maybe I could focus on anti-trafficking work. Do something that actually matters.”
“I really like that idea.” I smile. “I wonder if Jules and Luna would have some ideas.”
“Yeah, maybe,” she agrees.
I swallow. “Things with Hudson and Pippa are good. Really good. We’re taking it slow, but it’s…well, it’s really good.” I break out with a smile I can’t contain.
A smile curves her mouth, too. “I love that for you, brother. You deserve some happiness.”
The last few nights have been…magical? Am I allowed to think that as a mobster?
Hudson and Pippa have spent every night in my bed.
We’ve explored each other’s bodies. We’ve shared meals together, showered together, and gotten ready together.
Pippa has had moments of anxiety we’ve navigated well.
She and Hudson went to Club14 to gamble two nights ago—she needed the adrenaline, the risk, and Hudson could ensure it was safely achieved.
When they returned to the mansion, Hudson and I helped her come down from her high.
The sex has been…amazing doesn’t seem to quite express how it feels.
I worried I didn’t have enough experience for them, but they’ve been so happy and excited just to be together. It’s been…easy. Electric, fiery…and easy.
For so long, I truly believed I didn’t have a sex drive. That I was just different than other people. I was sure as hell wrong about that.
Hudson and I haven’t gone past blowjobs, but I’m eager to explore more with him. My first time going down on him was powerful. It rocked my world.
And the two of them are working me up to all the other possibilities for Hudson and me. I’ve learned a lot about ass play and toys in a few short days, but I want to take my time.
I’ve also wanted to focus on Pippa’s mission until she is done with Troy once and for all.
“I want to date Luna,” Eva blurts out.
That gets my full attention.
“She’s taking it slow,” Eva continues. “She’s careful, a little walled off. I thought telling us everything—Maribel, all of it—would move things along, but she’s been busy. I don’t know. I don’t want to push.”
I think about Luna. About all three of the sisters. All they’ve been through. “Don’t give up on her,” I say. “Each of them will need a different kind of care. They’ve been alone their whole lives.”
Eva nods slowly in understanding.
“At least we had our parents,” I add, “even if we lost them too early.”
A shift on one of the screens catches my eye.
I catch sight of Jax Novak deep in conversation with Jules near the bar. Their body language tight, guarded.
Eva frowns. “Something wrong?”
“Hudson mentioned he and Luna went to Jules’s office with Jax Novak this week.”
“She told me the same. I wonder how she’s doing with this blast from her past. Just knowing he was in town seemed to stress her out. Looks like he’s edging his way back into her life.” Eva points to the screen.
No doubt that guy wants her attention. She reads like a blank rock, though, giving nothing away.
“Poor guy. Looks like if he wants back in, he has some work to—"
“Jesus Christ,” Hudson’s voice breaks through the comms. “Junior fucking Volkov is here.”
Eva gasps.
“Are you sure?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. No one has seen him in ten years, he could be mistaken.
“He’s wearing glasses like some Clark Kent motherfucker, but yes, I’d recognize him anywhere. Shaved head, but he hasn’t changed much. It’s him.”
Eva and I look at each other.
My blood pressure rises. I haven’t had access to this asshole since the night his dad died. No one in our network has laid eyes on him. And tonight, he strolls into a high-profile event at the White House? What the actual fuck?
“He’s here with Lily Blackwell,” Jules says. Lily is a seriously stupid-as-fuck congress woman who hitched her wagon to Magnus Troy. She’ll propagate all his racist and classist policies if it keeps her in her seat.
That means it really is him. Jules would recognize him, too. So, would—
“Pippa. Is he going to recognize Pippa?” I ask, concern etched in my voice.
“What’s his position?” Pippa asks. “I’ll keep my back to him.”
“Southeast corner,” Luna says on a whisper.
“Luna, you okay?” Eva asks.
No answer.
“She’s fine,” Jules replies quickly. “Hudson, I need you to stay between Luna and Junior, so he doesn’t see her.”
“Hudson, did he clock you?” I ask.
He confirms he wasn’t spotted and that he’s making his way to Luna.
I locate Luna on the cameras and Eva zooms in. Luna looks shaken. Eva has her eyes locked on the screen.
“I’m sure she’ll be okay,” I reassure her.
Eva asks me off channel if I can spot Junior, but so far, I can’t.
“What do we think he’s doing here?” I ask to the group.
Hudson is the first to answer. “It’s no secret Troy is a puppet for the Russians, but for him to show up here? That’s…ballsy. I don’t know, man.”
“Luna, is Junior in the case file for Jax? Will he be recognized?” Eva asks.
No answer from Luna. On the camera, we see Hudson talking to her. They are in a back corner where staff comes in and out with drinks and hors d'oeuvres. I still can’t identify Junior on the screens, but if he’s in the southeast corner, he wouldn’t be able to see Luna or Pippa from his angle.
Jules and Jax are in the northeast corner. My eyes scan every screen searching for signs of danger.
Hudson says, “Luna said yes. It’s known that Sophie and the Volkovs were connected to Jared, but while Jax may know that, no one has seen Junior in a decade. We may be the only people who would recognize him.”
Fuck. I don’t like this. I don’t feel good about it. Why is he here?
“They are seating us for dinner,” Pippa whispers.
“Lily Blackwell’s table will be close to the front, near Troy’s. Pippa, your table is middle back. Make sure you sit with your back to the front of the room,” Jules says. “Luna and Hudson, stay where you are.”
I take a deep breath. Jules is in there. Hudson is in there. They are in control. Nothing will happen. Pippa and Luna are capable. They can take care of themselves. Everything is okay. I repeat this in my mind a few times.
I fucking hate that I’m stuck in this van.
I begin to vibrate with unspent energy and frustration.
“You can’t go in there.” Eva is eyeing me.
I look at her, neither confirming nor denying my intent.
“He may be hiding in plain sight, Enz, but you don’t have that same luxury. You will ruin Pippa’s mission tonight. Right now, everything is fine.”
I know she’s right, but my blood is boiling.
I want him fucking dead, and I’m spiraling.
Has he been coming and going from his fortress-of-an-estate this whole time?
Have we missed that? The fucker has no tech or cameras we can tap into.
He may be living in the medieval fucking ages, but we have eyes all over that neighborhood. Have for years. How did we miss this?
I take a deep breath.
I can’t go in there.
I take a few more deep breaths. I focus on Pippa, finding her table, and keeping an eye on her.
Tonight is about her—she deserves to close this chapter.
I close my eyes.
“Can we get a clone on Junior’s phone or put a tracker on him?” I ask. “What do we have inside the building?” We’ve got to take advantage of this sighting. If I can’t be in there tonight, maybe I can use this as a chance to finally get tabs on this fucker.
Jules replies a few minutes later. “Great idea, Enz. I have the tech. I just don’t know who can plant it. Maybe someone on my team.”
“Jax,” Luna suggests.
“No.” Jules shuts it down.
“Tell him who it is—he’ll want to do it,” Luna pushes.
Eva and I look at each other. Is that a good idea? I don’t know this guy, but he’s hunting Sophie, and Junior is probably an important lead in his investigation.
Ultimately, Jules agrees with Luna and says she’ll get it handled.
Shit… After tonight we might be able to track Junior Volkov. Finally.
The waitstaff is serving steaming dinner plates and politicians and celebrities have been announced to give toasts. All celebrate our idiot president on his stupid ballroom, that no one asked for.
As the minutes tick by, I feel myself slightly relax. I focus on Pippa.
Eva and I spotted Lily Blackwell at her table. We see a man next to her who fits the description Hudson gave us and confirm Junior’s location. He has no line of sight to anyone on our team.
I zoom in on the image of Pippa’s table and I see that fucking date of hers with his arm around her chairback. “Tell your date to keep his hands to himself,” I mutter, not even realizing I’ve gone live on comms.
Hudson’s voice comes back instantly. “If he doesn’t, I may find myself escorting him out of the building.”
Eva snorts.
I crack a smile.
The tension eases a bit more.
Jules whispers, “Guys, Pippa can handle herself. We need Jake to make the introduction. Behave.”
Jake. Ugh.
As the speeches and toasts finish, the president takes the podium. He rambles on, making absolutely no sense. No doubt the guy has dementia—I don’t know who his medical staff thinks they are fooling.
When he finally steps down, dinner has been cleared, and people begin to mill about again.
It’s time.