43. Easton
Easton
The Jezebel news isn’t that shocking, but I guess I never imagined the woman who placed forever-scars on my back is an elite hacker capable of tricking us all. And why does the pain in my back blaze to life just seeing her face?
Gwen turns her laptop back around and stares at the screen like it might rearrange itself if she waits long enough.
Felicity, huh? Nah, Jezebel is more fitting as far as I’m concerned, and that’s what I’ll continue calling her.
“I worked with her at Interpol. Virtually only,” Julian fills in the dead space. “She went dark in . . .” The sound of typing cuts over the line before he curses. “. . . 2025. The same year Molly resigned from MI6.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Carter mutters, closing his eyes. “That’s the same year we took out The Collective and I acquired this hotel with Sebastian.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand, and my body tenses. Everyone at this table is probably having the same reaction after the hell that group put us through. There’s no way this is a coincidence.
I look down the table at Oliver as he scooches Mya’s chair closer to him. He clasps her hand, and I wouldn’t blame them if they took off from the room. After everything they dealt with because of that evil group . . .
So much for that being behind us all.
That mission also brought both myself and Julian into Gwen’s life on a regular basis. I was just the lucky bastard who got to live down the hall from her.
“Could Molly and Jezebel have been working for The Collective as insiders at MI6 and Interpol?” Gwen asks, and it sounds like she plans on continuing to use that name for her as well.
“I don’t think this is a revenge situation for us taking out The Collective.
” Carter and his gut feelings are usually right.
Well, probably not his mother-in-law one, but I’m willing to give him that one.
“If Molly and our hacker were insiders for The Collective, they weren’t important enough to be impacted by their fall.
We would have known about them if they were, and they’d be behind bars. ”
“But why do this?” Gwen’s shoulders hunch forward. “If we’re right, and Molly’s now out on her own, what’s her endgame, if not revenge?”
“We cut off Molly’s power supply when we took out The Collective, which killed the money flowing into her pocket.
People lose their minds when you mess with their money.
My guess is she found a way to get the pipeline going again, and she’ll do whatever it takes to ensure it doesn’t stop this time.
” Carter braces a hand on the back of the only empty chair and his gaze shoots to the phone, as if suddenly remembering Julian’s still quietly on the line. “When did you fake your death?”
“During your operation against The Collective. I had a feeling they were onto me, and I wouldn’t be able to continue providing you a digital assist if they killed me for real. So, I beat them to it.”
“What?” Gwen blurts out, and I echo that sentiment. “You did that for us?”
My stomach turns. No, Gwen, he did that for you.
“So you haven’t worked with this former Interpol hacker since your death, then?” Carter follows up. “And would anyone at MI6 or anyone else at Interpol know you’re really alive?”
“No to all your questions.” He pauses before noting in an almost somber tone, “I’ve become adept at walking among the living without anyone seeing me.”
“Because of us,” Gwen murmurs.
“Because of you.” I’m unable to bite back the truth this time.
She zeros in on me, brows knitting, but I can’t handle looking at her. Not because I’m worried I’ll lose her—because I actually feel bad for Julian, and I don’t know what to make of that.
“We’re operating under the assumption they planted that video of Molly in London as bait for Gwen to try and draw out our team,” Carter shares what Julian may or may not already know.
I’m losing track of who knows what at this point.
“They’re presumably planning another attack they want to pin on us. ”
“Yeah, Gwen told me about that,” Julian replies. “And they can’t do what they’re planning next, because Gwen won’t be leaving the safety of The Sapphire.” That sounded awfully order-like. “And if I have to come back to life and let them know they’re up against me, too, then so fucking be it.”
Here I am, willing to die for her, and he’s ready to come back to life. I reach for the handle of my coffee mug and curl my fingers tight around it as if that’ll help me get a grip.
Everyone’s eyes are on me now. I can feel them. Some are better at being discreet than others. But they’re all thinking the same thing that Gwen has to be realizing now, if she didn’t know before—Julian’s in deep for the woman I’m in deep for.
And here I am, unable to shake the fact that I feel sorry for the guy since he’s going to miss out on the greatest woman in the world. Because I will fight for her. I’m all in now, and have no plans to walk, run, or fucking fly away.
“I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be okay,” Gwen speaks up, breaking the eerie quiet. “Even if I have to leave this hotel.”
“Carter? Easton?” Julian prompts, like he’s asking for an assist here. “I take it you’ll have a come-to-Jesus moment with this woman before I develop an ulcer?”
“Absolutely,” I say gruffly, letting go of my mug while staring back at the woman who’s going to give me an ulcer.
Looks like Julian and I are on the same page about her safety, too.
And so help me, if I have to ask him to code a virus in her GPS app so all roads point back here, I’ll suck it up and do it.
Anything to protect the woman we both care about.
“So, um, what are we doing now?” Mya’s words punch through some of the tension still going strong between me and this pain-in-the-ass woman I’m in love with.
I whip my eyes to my coffee mug and away from her when I realize what word just effortlessly catapulted through my mind.
Love.
“Well, um . . .” Gwen says in a shaky voice, like she can hear my thoughts, and they’ve tripped her up, too.
“Now that we have Jezebel’s real name and photo, I can plug her into my program and find out where she’s been, who she’s met with, and, with any luck, where she is now.
This is more important than studying the AI deepfake footage. ”
Carter snatches his cell from the table. “While you do that, I need to step out and get Zoey on the phone.”
“I assume Zoey never crossed paths with Jezebel when she was Felicity at Interpol, or she’d have recognized her on the island,” Mya points out.
“Jezebel definitely didn’t expect to ever be ID’ed, or she’d never have let any of us see her face,” Gwen adds. “Which means she expects we’re all going to die. She’s probably clueless she’ll be another loose end wrapped up like the men at the compound were.”
“Molly and Jezebel have to be working with someone else, too,” I mutter. “It’s gotta be someone who ties this all together.”
“Are you planning on throwing your mother-in-law back out there as a possible someone?” Jesse asks Carter.
“I never took her off the list,” he grunts.
“If you recall, I said she might be innocent.” He gestures with his phone toward Gwen’s laptop.
“Let me know when you get a hit on the hacker’s location.
” He starts to turn, only to halt and spin back around.
“You said something before . . . That they went to a lot of trouble to bring you to that island specifically. Not to London. Not somewhere else, but there.”
Where are you going with this?
“We said that island might have a secondary purpose for their plan.” Carter angles his head, eyeing me next. “Did you ever see what was in the cargo you were flying?”
“No, but I had my guesses. High-end weapons, things like that.” I look down at my laptop, thinking.
“What if Molly wasn’t lying about the traffickers having a tie to who killed Preston,” Carter says steadily.
I set my hands on the table as more of the truth clicks into place. “Because it was Molly who hired The Chechen to kill Preston, like she probably hired him in Somalia to take out the leader there.”
“The proof she gave Zoey to draw her to the island looked legit, because it was legit. Molly obviously failed to mention the ‘financials and criminal activity’ tying to Preston’s killer were her own records,” Gwen says with air quotes.
“Makes sense, I guess.” Oliver squints, like he’s still not buying something. “I mean, I get why Molly might hire an assassin to take out Preston if he was onto her for being a traitor or something, but why’d she care about regime change in Somalia?”
“Not her, but the people she reported to—The Collective.” Jesse’s voice is strained at the mention of that group’s name. “And maybe it wasn’t about a change in leadership, but to get the U.S. military out of there so they’d stop disrupting the trafficking networks.”
Oliver palms his forehead, pushing at the skin, uneasy.
Don’t blame him.
Jesse shoots him an apologetic nod, then shifts to Carter. “Maybe The Collective was actually in charge of the trafficking networks and only made it appear they were Al-Qaeda’s. Or had some kind of trade deal, who knows.”
Carter drags his free hand through his hair. “That’s possible.”
“No,” Gwen murmurs. “I mean, yes, but no.” She sits taller.
“There was no CCTV of Preston’s death that day.
I know, because Zoey asked me to look last summer.
” Her gaze wanders to the phone, and I forgot Julian’s still listening in.
“I mean, if Molly hired The Chechen to kill Preston, wouldn’t she have kept the footage so there’d be no question he did it?
” Her gaze flicks to Carter next. “The only reason she’d go to the trouble of making it disappear is if she knew who actually killed him, and she never wanted that information getting out. ”
“Because she did it herself,” Carter hisses. “She had to be out there that day.”
“Zoey’s been cozied up close to the real killer this whole time.” Gwen lifts her eyes to the ceiling, thinking. “Ugh, I’m going to be sick. To be betrayed by someone you think you can trust like that . . .”
“Almost as bad as sleeping with the enemy,” Oliver mumbles, which has Mya rolling her eyes at him and playfully swatting his arm.
“I assume you didn’t use the CCTV nuke antidote once you had it to go back and—”
“That footage is too old to be recoverable,” Julian interrupts Mya.
“Believe me, I tried. I just didn’t tell Zoey. I was too worried I’d get her hopes up if it didn’t work out,” Gwen says to Mya. “And before you ask, I didn’t tell Zoey we have the antidote. Didn’t feel fair for her to know the truth is out there, but I still can’t get her answers.”
“Which means Zoey didn’t slip and share intel with a trusted someone,” Mya notes.
Well, shit. I hadn’t thought of that, but damn.
“Zoey would’ve told us if she accidentally said anything to Molly, anyway,” Carter says. “But I’ll ask her just in case.”
“Prepare to get an earful,” I mutter. “She’s gonna be pissed you’d insinuate negligence on her part.”
He grimaces. He knows I’m not wrong about that.
“But”—Gwen lets that word hang for a beat—“it is possible Molly knows Zoey’s persistently digging for the truth. Maybe she’s worried she’s getting close, the way Preston was. Especially with how close Zoey’s gotten to us lately.”
“And instead of just simply taking her out, knowing we’d also avenge her death, Molly’s using the very thing she feared—Zoey’s closeness to us—to her advantage.
She plans to either discredit us or take us all out one way or another.
” My eyes go to Gwen. “And that includes killing your grandfather’s,” I begin, looking at Carter next, “and your mother-in-law’s presidential runs. ”
“Because somehow Molly knows they were both involved in the taking down of The Collective.” Carter hangs his head. “She’s banking on them both losing once we’re exposed.”
Gwen stands and rests her hands on the table alongside her laptop.
“And that won’t be happening, because as I’ve already made myself clear to Dad and Easton .
. .” Her gaze is sharp on me, fire in her eyes.
It’s a flame I know I can’t put out when it comes to her.
And why would I ever want to dim her light?
“I’ll plead guilty. I’m not letting any of you take the fall for this if I can help it. ”