Chapter 34 Tony
Tony
Three safe houses. Four known associates. Six hours of dead ends.
Adrian Belmont is a ghost.
Boris slams his phone down on the table of our makeshift command center, a rented office space in Shoreditch that Dmitri’s people secured this morning. “The flat in Mayfair was cleared out yesterday. Neighbors said movers came in the middle of the night.”
“What about the warehouse in Docklands?” I ask.
“Empty. Has been for weeks, according to the security footage we pulled.” Boris rubs his face with both hands. “He planned for this. Had exit strategies in place before we ever showed up at Thornfield.”
My shoulder throbs where one of Adrian’s guards clipped me during the firefight. The bullet only grazed the muscle, but the wound keeps seeping through the bandage every time I move wrong. I should have let the medic stitch it properly, but there wasn’t time. There still isn’t.
“What about his coalition contacts?” I pull up the map on my laptop, the one covered in red pins marking every location we’ve checked. “The Corsicans, the Berlin connection, and the Amsterdam financiers. Any movement from them?”
“Dmitri has people watching all of them. Nothing so far.” Boris shakes his head. “Either Adrian hasn’t reached out yet, or he’s using channels we don’t know about.”
“He’ll have to surface eventually for medical treatment.”
I add another pin to the map. Another dead end. Another location Adrian abandoned before we could get there.
“He’s staying mobile,” I comment. “I’m willing to bet he’s moving every few hours, never using the same bolt-hole twice. That’s how I’d do it if I were in his position.”
“Then how do we catch someone who won’t stay still?”
“We find what he cares about more than staying hidden.” I stare at the map until the pins blur together. “Something he can’t access remotely.”
Boris considers this. “His accounts are frozen. Dmitri made some calls this morning. But a man like Adrian has cash reserves hidden somewhere.”
“Then we find them. Squeeze every contact, every associate, every person who ever did business with him. Someone knows where he keeps his emergency funds.”
My phone dings with a message from Sasha. She’s been working a separate angle, reaching out to her former colleagues at Christie’s who might have insight into Adrian’s habits. The message is brief: Nothing yet. How’s the search going?
I type back: Same. Dead ends everywhere.
Her response comes quickly: Come back to the hotel. You need to rest.
I ignore the message and turn back to Boris. “What about the guards we captured at the estate? Have they given us anything useful?”
“Sergei’s been interrogating them all day. Most of them were hired through an agency three days before the meeting. They don’t know anything about Adrian’s operations beyond what they saw at Thornfield.”
“And the ones who weren’t hired through an agency?”
“Two of them have worked for Adrian for years. They’re not talking.” Boris’s expression darkens. “Yet.”
I nod. I don’t ask what methods Sergei is using. Some questions are better left unasked.
Another hour passes. Another location checked and cleared. Another thread that leads nowhere.
By the time I finally leave the command center, it’s well past midnight. The London streets are quiet as I make my way back to the hotel with my shoulder throbbing with every step. I should eat something. I should sleep. I should do any number of things that would make me more effective tomorrow.
Instead, I spread the maps and intelligence reports across the desk in our hotel room and start going through them again. There has to be something we missed. Some pattern we haven’t recognized. Some connection that will lead us to Adrian before he can regroup and come at us again.
I don’t hear Sasha come in until she’s standing right behind me.
“It’s two in the morning,” she notes.
I startle at her voice and then reply, “I know.”
“You’ve been at this for almost twenty hours.”
“I know, too.”
She puts a hand on my good shoulder. “You need to sleep, Tony. You’re no good to anyone if you collapse from exhaustion.”
I shake my head without looking up from the reports. “I can’t. Not while he’s still out there.”
“Adrian isn’t going anywhere tonight. He’s wounded and running scared. Whatever move he makes next, it won’t happen in the next few hours.”
“You don’t know that.” I flip to another page and review the same information I’ve already read a dozen times. “He could be planning something right now. Reaching out to his coalition, arranging another attack. Every minute we waste is a minute he uses to get stronger.”
“And every minute you spend running yourself into the ground is a minute you’re less capable of stopping him. Look at yourself, Tony. You’re pale, you’re shaking, and that bandage needs changing. When was the last time you ate?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re obsessing, and it’s going to get you killed.”
I finally look up at her. “What do you want me to do, Sasha? Go to bed and pretend everything’s okay? Adrian is out there right now, planning God knows what, and we have no idea where he is or what he’s going to do next. I can’t just—”
She reaches down and pulls the reports out of my hands.
“Hey—”
“No.” She tosses the papers onto the bed, scattering them across the covers. “You’re done for tonight.”
“Sasha, give those back.”
“Make me.”
I stand from the chair, and pain lances through my shoulder. “This isn’t a game. Adrian wants to destroy your family. He wants to take you. And I’m not going to let that happen because I was too tired to see the threat coming.”
“And I’m not going to let you destroy yourself trying to protect me.” She steps closer until we’re almost chest to chest. “I need you functional, Tony. I need you sharp. And right now, you’re neither of those things.”
“I can handle it.”
“Like hell you can.” She grabs the front of my shirt. “You want to protect me? Then take care of yourself. Because I can’t do this without you, and if you run yourself into the ground chasing shadows, Adrian wins.”
Something snaps inside me. All the frustration of the past twenty hours, all the fear and anger and helplessness, it all comes rushing to the surface.
I grab her face with both hands and crush my mouth against hers. She makes a surprised sound against my lips, but then she’s kissing me back just as fiercely. Her fingers tangle in my hair and tug hard, and I groan at the sting against my scalp.
I walk her backward until her legs hit the edge of the bed.
She falls onto the mattress with the intelligence reports scattering beneath her, and I follow her down without breaking the kiss.
My shoulder screams in protest, but I don’t care.
All I care about is the feel of her body beneath mine, the taste of her mouth, and the way her hands are already working at the buttons of my shirt.
She pushes the fabric off my shoulders and freezes when she sees the bandage. “Tony—”
“It’s fine.” I capture her mouth again before she can argue. “I need this. I need you.”
Her resistance melts away. She pulls me closer and wraps her legs around my waist, and when she grinds against me, I can feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of her dress. I rock against her instinctively. The friction makes us both gasp.
“Off,” she demands, tugging at my belt. “Everything off. Now.”
I kneel back long enough to strip off my remaining clothes while she wriggles out of her dress. No bra tonight. Just simple cotton underwear that I hook with my fingers and drag down her legs, tossing them somewhere behind me.
She’s beautiful spread out on the hotel bed with her blonde hair fanned across the pillows and her green eyes dark with want. Every time I see her like this, it takes my breath away.
“Stop staring,” she complains with a hint of impatience. “I believe I gave you an order.”
“Bossy.” I lean down and press an open-mouthed kiss to her inner thigh. “I like it.”
She squirms beneath me as I trail my mouth higher, taking my time despite her protests. I can smell her arousal, feel the heat radiating from her core, and it makes my cock throb with anticipation. But I’m not ready to give her what she wants yet. Not until she’s begging for it.
“Tony, please—”
I silence her with my tongue, licking a broad stroke through her folds. She cries out and arches off the bed, and her fingers find my hair again and hold on tight. I circle her clit with the tip of my tongue, teasing her with featherlight pressure until she’s writhing against the sheets.
“More,” she gasps. “God, Tony, more.”
I give her what she wants. I seal my mouth over her clit and suck gently while sliding two fingers inside her, curling them to find that spot that makes her lose control.
She’s so wet, so ready for me, and the sounds she’s making are driving me out of my mind.
Little whimpers and moans that go straight to my cock.
“You taste incredible,” I murmur against her flesh before returning to my task.
I work her with my fingers and tongue until her thighs start to tremble around my head.
Her breathing comes in ragged gasps, and I can feel her inner walls fluttering around my fingers.
She’s close. So close. I add a third finger and increase my pace, fucking her with my hand while I lap at her clit.
“Come for me,” I tell her. “Let go, Sasha.”
She shatters with a cry, and her body convulses. I keep licking, keep stroking, drawing out her pleasure until she’s pushing at my head, oversensitive and panting.
I kiss my way up her body, pausing to take one nipple into my mouth while I palm her other breast. She moans and drags her nails down my back, and the slight pain makes me hiss against her skin.
“Inside me,” she demands. “Now. I need to feel you.”
I position myself at her entrance and push forward slowly, watching her face as I stretch her open. Her mouth falls open, and her eyes flutter closed, and I have to hold still for a moment to keep from losing control. She feels like heaven. Hot and tight and perfect around me.
I start with slow, deep strokes, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back in to the hilt. She meets every thrust with a roll of her hips, and the rhythm we find together is unhurried at first. Almost gentle. But that’s not what either of us needs tonight.
“Harder,” she pleads.
I brace my good arm against the mattress and give her what she’s asking for. The new angle makes her gasp with each thrust, and I can feel her tightening around me already. I hook one of her legs over my shoulder, opening her up further, and drive into her with everything I have.
“Yes,” she moans. “Right there. Don’t stop.”
I couldn’t stop if I wanted to. The feel of her, the sounds she’s making, the way she’s looking up at me with those green eyes blown wide with pleasure—it’s consuming me like fire.
She bucks beneath me, and her mouth falls open in a silent scream.
“That’s it,” I encourage her. “Come with me. I’m so fucking close.”
“Tony—” She can barely get my name out. “I’m going to—”
She comes apart with a sob, and the feel of her clenching around me triggers my own release. I bury myself deep and let go, groaning her name as pleasure crashes through me in waves that seem to go on forever.
For a long moment, neither of us moves. We just breathe together, tangled in each other and the scattered intelligence reports, our hearts pounding against each other’s chests.
Finally, Sasha laughs softly. “I think we ruined your maps.”
“Worth it.” I roll onto my back and pull her with me so she’s draped across my chest. My shoulder aches, but I don’t care. “Definitely worth it.”
“Feel better?” she asks, peering up at me through those long lashes.
“Much.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “You were right. I needed that.”
“I’m always right. You should remember that.”
We lie together in comfortable silence for a while. The fear and frustration haven’t disappeared entirely, but they’ve faded to a manageable level. For the first time since Thornfield, I feel like I can think clearly.
“He’s going to keep running,” I muse after a moment. “Adrian. He’s too paranoid to stay in one place, too smart to use the same contacts twice. We could chase him for weeks and never get close.”
“So we stop chasing.” Sasha lifts her head to look at me. “We make him come to us instead.”
“How?”
“We give him something he can’t resist.” Her eyes meet mine. “Let’s draw him out ourselves.”