Chapter 7
Bloodshed. There’d been too much of it during the last month and none of it by his own hands.
His brother had taken every opportunity to make his mark, accepting missions as if the assassinations mattered to no one but the extended families.
In his mind, Gabriel had been far too careless, leaving a calling card a mile wide.
But Wrath was no longer in charge of the contracts.
The anger remained, a bitterness at the circumstances, but he’d been forced to learn patience.
Wrath had taken a significant chance finding Ashley, especially since the consortium had halted all manners of business for a cooling-off period.
With one exception.
He studied the way the moonlight shimmered on her face, his balls tightening.
She was his nemesis, a woman who could potentially bring down the entire kingdom.
She had no idea of her level of importance, nor did she seem to care.
At least he now knew her real name and it suited her.
Sophia Waters. Federal Agent Sophia Waters.
The irony wasn’t lost. They’d both hidden their true identities given their respective training. Good versus evil.
He’d traced Sophia’s activities since leaving him in the dust in Monte Carlo.
She’d been quite clever in her abilities to hide Stephen Wallace until leaving Monaco, but she was no longer in charge of babysitting him.
The fools who were had gotten sloppy, slipping their location and allowing Wrath to find the safe house with ease.
They hadn’t bothered to take the mark out of the state, which would be a huge mistake that would haunt them.
From what he’d been able to determine, Stephen would remain on lockdown for another week.
That was the methodology of the FBI. After that and if no other attempts had been made on the man’s life, Stephen would be set free.
Only he’d be dead by then.
“You have one last chance, Ricardo, or the consortium will take matters into their own hands. You are a fool if you think you can beat them at their own game. They are the masters of this. Have I taught you nothing, boy?”
How many times had the words been repeated by his father before he’d left Italy?
Far too fucking many. He’d been brought in front of the consortium, sanctioned for his failures and threatened with banishment just as his father had mentioned.
He’d left the chambers issuing his own veiled threat, one driven from his own arrogance.
The men hadn’t taken kindly to his behavior, sending a threat of their own.
Destruction of his family’s wealth and stature.
He’d placed himself in a precarious position with his anger and frustration.
Only Angelo had talked him down off the ledge, convincing him to apologize to the leader.
That had merely appeased the consortium, enough to sanction his trip to the United States, but only after a period of reflection as they called it.
Their form of punishment.
Wrath had heeded their ruling, gathering his strength and biding his time, and all he’d been able to think about was the fiery woman who’d ignited every blood cell.
Sophia walked through the living room, studying the various pieces of art almost haphazardly hanging on the wall. “Does the house belong to you?” she asked.
“The agent who sold it to me assured me this was a steal.” Wrath moved into the kitchen, reaching for the already opened bottle of wine, pouring two glasses.
After learning of her true identity, he’d gone about hiding it.
The trouble had been keeping the knowledge from the members of the group.
They would have assigned another the contract to end her life without question.
And the end would have been ugly, perhaps for Wrath himself.
He wrapped his hands around the glasses, his grip white-knuckled. Would he die for her, a taste of a woman who was playing the same game that he was? He wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to search his soul for the answer.
He’d managed to track her with relative ease, the connections he’d been afforded his entire life allowing him to weed through the bullshit undercover operation.
The FBI had no idea how powerful the consortium truly was.
In fact, they had no confirmation of the existence, although they were sniffing more than usual.
Eventually, the marks in the United States would be called into action.
The grandiose plan of the consortium meant elimination of several powerful leaders within the United States.
“Why here, Pierre? I will admit, I don’t believe in coincidences.” The words had a lilt to them even though her eyes were dead serious.
“I’m here because I have business,” he answered as he approached, amused she continued to grill him. They’d just had incredible sex and she was back to business within minutes. She stood in one of his robes, her wet hair clinging to the soft terry. In his eyes, she was more beautiful than ever.
“What business could a police officer from Monte Carlo have in South Florida?” Turning sharply, she eyed the wine, almost as if he’d dare to poison her.
“I have many businesses, Ashley. I had an opportunity arise that I couldn’t pass up in the States and yes, I thought it would be an excellent opportunity to try and find you. That’s not a crime.” He inched closer, crowding her space. “Or is it? Would you have preferred I hadn’t found you?”
“I… I don’t know you, Pierre. Not really. That fact you’re here and found me so easily is terrifying.” Her statement was telling. She already gathered he knew her identity. The sweet baker with a Golden Retriever couldn’t have been pulled off.
“I am a man with many powerful friends. I’ve never lied to you about that.
” He held out the glass, determined to break her pensive mood.
She could either decide to tell him her true identity or keep the fantasy going.
That was her choice. He’d made the decision not to confront her.
Why end the beautiful tryst at this point?
That would happen soon enough, once she learned of Stephen’s contracted kill.
There would be no way she could deny Wrath’s existence any longer. He dreaded the time but had no other choice. Neither did she.
Sophia finally accepted the offering, still tentative as their fingers touched. A slight moan escaped her mouth, making him even hungrier. “But you’re never going to share aspects of this… business with me. Are you?”
She’d obviously decided to forego any additional questions regarding how he’d found her. He had the distinct feeling that that wouldn’t last for long.
“I have something for you,” Wrath said quietly.
“A present?”
He chuckled as he walked toward the kitchen counter, pulling the small box into his hand and fingering the lid. “I found this after we were together.”
She inched closer, a curious look on her face. She eased the wine on the counter before taking it into her hand. As she opened the lid, he watched her expression, the way her eyes lit up seeing the locket. “Where did you find this?”
“Near the elevator. I wasn’t certain I’d see you again, but I know this was precious to you.” He eased the necklace out of the box, moving until he was able to fasten it around her neck. “You have a very sweet buddy there.”
“Yes, he is,” she whispered, unable to look him in the eyes. She fingered the locket, a slight smile curling across her lips, but the gesture was meant for her alone.
So many secrets. So many lies. They would both be caught in them eventually.
He moved out onto the deck, leaning over the railing.
Still naked, he enjoyed the way the whipping wind felt against his over-sensitized skin.
He scanned the shoreline, searching for any signs of visitors.
The house was situated in a secluded location, away from prying eyes of neighbors, but certainly not from other members of the consortium.
If they wanted him, they would find him.
At least his arrival in Miami had been without fanfare.
He could tell she was standing in the doorway, waiting for any admission of his sins.
He wasn’t stupid. She might not have figured out a way to confirm his identity, but she knew in her gut who he was and what he was responsible for.
This was merely a fantasy world for both of them.
“What I do in my life, Ashley, is dangerous. Some would say criminal.”
That got her attention, her feet padding onto the deck. She moved to the railing, although she kept her distance. He sensed a hint of fear in her. Well, good. He’d come to terms with the fact that every minute he spent with her, he was placing her life in jeopardy, but his obsession wasn’t bending.
“Go on,” she said, not in a very encouraging fashion. She was ready to grill him even further.
He shot her a look before taking a sip of his wine.
He’d never been a real wine drinker until spending time with her.
Then he’d devoured bottle after bottle. Merlot.
Cabernet. He’d raided the wine cellar almost every night while he remained at the estate.
“I work for some very bad people. They wouldn’t take kindly to me sharing anything with you.
Besides, knowledge isn’t in your best interest.”
“Are you a killer?”
The question didn’t stun him. He’d been waiting for it since his arrival in town.
Laughing, he shook his head. There were some things he wasn’t going to share in any regard.
Keeping her in the dark was definitely his prerogative.
“I’m an art dealer. Some would say an unscrupulous one.
Have I threatened people? Absolutely. That’s a part of my job. Murder isn’t one of them.”
She remained quiet for a few seconds. “Hmmm. O-kay. I appreciate you trusting me.”