9. CONCESSION
NINE
concession
Pippa
The uncomfortable chair I’m sitting on—the wooden seat pinching and pressing like it has a personal grudge—is a welcome distraction from the discussion about Magnus Troy and his upcoming ostentatious gala.
When that distraction ultimately fails, I might try to decide if the smell in Senator Cramden’s chambers is mildew or mold.
Cramden rambles on about the importance of getting face time with certain gala attendees.
I made sure I was on this committee so that I could secure an invitation.
In the more than two years since our Predator-in-Chief was elected, I’ve managed to avoid meetings and events where he’d be in attendance.
It was easily done since all the other staffers are clamoring for those opportunities.
I played into Cramden’s sexist nature to convince him that women (myself included) are great with event planning. Asshole.
With the event one month away, my ability to indulge in conversations about the faux importance of the new ballroom and what it stands for is truly waning. I care more about the delivery method for the poison when I shake President Troy’s hand.
I’ve been testing both a skin contact patch for my palm and a micro-point option on a ring.
The capsule method I initially considered has too many risk factors, so I ruled that out last month.
Skin delivery has its issues because he’ll be shaking other hands that night and risking transfer seems unnecessary.
Even though the formula I created is specific to his medical history (his real medical history, not the bullshit he feeds the press), there are too many old people on similar medications he could accidentally poison.
The ring seems increasingly the way to go.
I remind myself to test out more needle widths.
I have to ensure it goes undetected while also injecting enough poison into the skin.
Unlike other marks we’ve run, the aim is not a delayed reaction. No, we don’t need time to air his dirty laundry—the world knows exactly who this man is.
The plan is for him to have a stroke within thirty minutes of my handshake, at the event. At least it’ll be one last hit to his ego before he dies. The man thinks the world believes he’s in perfect health even though we all have eyes.
I’m trying not to worry about him recognizing me. It’s been seventeen years. I don’t look the same and he has dementia, but the issue keeps Jules and me going back and forth on our plan. She thinks she should be the one to deliver the poison no matter how many times I’ve told her I have to do this.
She just doesn’t want me to have to face this monster again but knows I need to before I can put the island behind me.
“Pippa, does that work?” Senator Cramden’s voice cuts in.
“Yes, of course,” I respond. I have no idea what he said, but I’ve learned that men usually just want you to agree with them. And if that doesn’t work, I just pivot to the role of a silly, dumb girl. Works every time.
“Great. That’s all then, team.” We are dismissed.
I stack my papers neatly and close my laptop, setting both on my desk as I walk into the main bullpen.
I’m meeting Luna and Jules at the warehouse, and I’m already late. Luna has an update to share regarding Hudson.
So much for them leaving us alone. They lasted less than twenty-four hours.
I feel awful. I’m the reason they found us. I obviously had no way of knowing Enzo and Hudson were working together, but that doesn’t change the fact that I led them both to our front door. Literally.
Twenty minutes later, I’m keying in the code at the warehouse.
Click.
The familiar scent of ink, dust, and chemicals hits me as I step inside. Jules and Luna are at the large table Enzo, Hudson, and Niko sat at just last night.
Jules looks my way and smiles in greeting as she continues writing in a notebook. Luna doesn’t look up when I walk in. She’s on her laptop, fingers moving fast, takeout likely cold beside her.
“Hey, sorry I’m late.” I set my bag down and slide into the seat next to Luna. “You said you had an update.”
She exhales, closing her laptop halfway. “Two, actually. Let me get through both before we dive into either, okay?” She glances between us.
We agree.
“First one’s about Jonathan Vale.”
Haven’t heard that name in a while. A good friend to Dad and Magnus Troy back in the day.
A frequent visitor to Maribel Island. He has stayed behind the scenes this past decade, while his son, Jackson Vale, has taken center stage in the political arena.
He certainly called in those skeletons in Troy’s closet to get his son on the ticket when Troy ran.
“Hudson and Enzo made an offer. They want to hand Vale over. Some kind of gesture of good faith.” She pauses for a beat to let the words settle.
We have every intention of going after the Vale empire after we take care of Troy, but Enzo and Hudson would have no way of knowing that. He wasn’t on any materials they could have seen last night.
“So much for them not approaching us,” Jules mutters.
“I didn’t think Hudson would talk about this at work, but I was wrong.” Luna sighs.
“Well, I’m not surprised,” I start, “they aren’t the type to wait for instructions. Vale is an interesting offer, but nothing we can’t handle ourselves.”
Jules dips her head in agreement.
Luna clears her throat, her eyes flicking to her notes.
“The second thing… Stone just looped me in on a new case. Celebrity parties in Bel-Air, suspected trafficking network feeding into Mexico. The details…they’re almost identical to Dad’s parties on the island.
Overlap on the guest lists. Funding tracks back to the same shell companies.
Even looks like Russian security teams running cover. ”
For a long moment, no one says anything. The only sound is the hum of the overhead lights.
Jules is the first to find her voice. “You’re saying it’s the same operation? Or a copycat?”
“I don’t know yet,” Luna replies, “but the pattern is too similar to ignore. Stone already had his suspicions before he brought me in. I haven’t shared my findings yet, but he specifically asked me to compare notes to all our files on Jared Whiteman and Sophie Delacroix.”
I press a hand to my temple where an old ache returns—the one that lives somewhere between memory and warning. “Fuck.”
Luna watches me, waiting for me to say more.
I don’t, because what can I say? That I’m not surprised Sophie may be operating under the radar?
That we should have found her by now? Or should I lead with the fact that it’s my fault Hudson and Enzo are circling us?
That even knowing we shouldn’t make an alliance with them, I’m not sure I can stay away.
I give a small shake of my head. “Assuming Bel-Air could be connected to Sophie, we should follow the Russian funding and ties to Volkov’s old network. When was the last time we had eyes on Junior?”
“Good idea,” Luna says. “I’ll run searches on Volkov’s old contacts. There is still no chatter on Sophie. It’s been…a couple of months since I ran surveillance near Junior’s estate—still no sign of him having left the estate, no systems I can hack into, no known crew on the streets. A ghost.”
We keep hoping we’ll catch wind of Junior Volkov leaving his fortress or find something on the dark web about what he’s been up to since his dad died, but we’ve had no luck in the last decade. He certainly has enough money to stay hidden for the rest of his life.
Sophie was supposed to go to the Volkov estate after Maribel. So were we. Junior’s dad was meant to protect all of us, but that was before Sophie turned evidence against Jared Whiteman.
Jules, Luna, and I have been back and forth on whether we think Konstantin helped Sophie turn Dad in or if he was as surprised as our father. All we know for sure is that he and Junior left unexpectedly that day, narrowly missing the raid.
Screams guilty to me.
Our assumption was that Sophie has been in witness protection this whole time, but someone as well-known and infamous as her staying hidden for nearly twenty years? When every powerful person in the country (and world) wants her dead? Seems unlikely. Yet…where is she?
Luna takes notes on her laptop, Jules flips through her notebook, but we are each caught in our own thoughts. Frozen between two current threats and haunted by memories.
Jules is determined to be the one to take Sophie down and I know the fact that it’s taken this long to find her bothers her to no end.
Luna can’t let go of the image of Junior as the childhood best friend who took care of her.
I know she hopes she finds him before his enemies can—his biggest enemy being Enzo Luciano.
Jules interrupts my train of thought, saying, “We can’t go after Vale yet, not until after the gala. When he falls, we have to be ready to take down several other marks in quick succession.”
“Whatever we decide,” I say, “we can’t let Hudson or Enzo get leverage. Maybe we meet them, hear them out, and come to the table with a counteroffer of our own.”
“Wait, what? You’ve been the most vocal against partnering with them. Or anyone, for that matter,” Luna responds.
“Oh, but that was before our possible allies included a hot mobster who is obsessed with her and the only man she’s allowed to have multiple repeat performances in her bed,” Jules deadpans. Her eyes meet mine in challenge.
Luna shakes her head. “I still can’t believe John from the casino is Hudson.”
We all make noises of agreement at that.
“Don’t worry, Hudson won’t be making any more appearances in my bed. And Enzo can get over his crush. I’m not interested.”
Both my sisters roll their eyes at me.
“I don’t want to hear them out, but I know they won’t stop pushing their way in. The timeline between now and the gala is shortening. So, let’s see what they have to say.”
“What if we bring them in on Malin, instead?” Luna offers, like her brain is already thinking a few steps ahead. “Jules, you said a few times we could use more bodies.”
“Yeah. I know. I just wanted my people on it,” she grumbles. “I don’t trust these guys and I don’t know if we have time to bring them in on the plan. We need Malin taken out within the week.”
“Agreed. But it would be easier if we had help. Malin is a mark that makes sense based on the story we told them. They already saw Troy on the board, they know we are going after him because he’s a well-known predator.
Taking out the head of the secret service to get to the President won’t reveal more than they already know,” Luna explains.
Jules adds that we should still discuss Vale with them, in case they have ideas we don’t. Luna suggests that instead of them helping us take him down, maybe they can get his office bugged, or intel that we can use down the road. We all like that idea.
Everything feels like it’s spiraling, but with my sisters beside me, hashing out all the angles, the chaos fades. We’ve survived worse. We’ll survive this, too. Anyone who comes after us will just have to learn that the hard way.