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Sloane and I look to Valentino. Although we’ve never discussed it, Sloane and I have always looked to Valentino for the final say in anything. He’s never taken advantage of his silent position in our trio, and I hope he won’t now.
He smooths his beard as he contemplates Sloane’s suggestion. His stare weighs on me, full of responsibilities and fears. In the past I never envied his position, I envy him even less now.
Without telling us if he’s made a decision, Valentino sits by the tray of snacks and gulps two glasses of wine in quick succession. As he pours his third glass, he says, “During our planning sessions I’ll make finding a place for you a priority.”
I eagerly step forward. “Thank—”
“Thank me when we return alive.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Valentino
Time flies when planning a war. For the past three weeks, Ethan’s team has collected enough intel about Ghost Six that we’ve started to lay the groundwork for an ambush.
Ethan, Sloane, Tácito, and I huddle in the sitting area of my office. Ethan spreads pictures of Ghost Six’s top members on the center table.
Sloane picks one out of the pile. “This one’s mine.” The calm curiosity with which she claims her kill raises the hair on my body.
“Is he responsible for just the ambush or do I have him to thank for that, too?” I nod at her side.
She jerks her head. “Both. If not for his mask, I would have recognized him that day on the roof. Now, he’ll have my full anger to contend with.”
I resist the urge to contradict her. Her commitment won’t be easily swayed. Not even by me. I should feel guilty that I intend to steal her kill, but I don’t. Her claim is more personal. He burned, hit, stabbed, shot, and left her for dead. If he’d succeeded, he would have ended three lives the day of the ambush. Now his life is mine. I’ll feel his blood running through my fingers, even if it means upsetting Sloane.
“He’s number two in Ghost Six’s Douglas branch. His name is Matthew and his father, Emerson, is number one.” Ethan produces Emerson’s photo.
“Is he the one that put a hit on Sloane?” Tácito fingers both pictures.
“As of right now, I can’t say for sure.” Ethan digs through some documents in a box beside him. He extracts a thick file. Inside is a stack of spreadsheets. “I looked into their finances for the past year and couldn’t find anything that yelled contract hire other than what they sent to Sloane to get rid of their rival. Do you think we need to look out for another person?”
Tácito shrugs. “I’m not sure. From what I remember back in the day, Emerson preferred to get his hands dirty. I can’t imagine anything stopping him from going after Sloane himself, even if the person is his son. He’s just not that considerate.”
“How do you remember so much about him?” Sloane asks. “I didn’t recognize him in the photo let alone remember all these details, and I’m the one he attacked.”
“I clocked his interest before Ghost Six approached you. At the time, I didn’t know where their interest lay, just that they gave me bad vibes. So I watched and they let me because they never caught on that I could read lips. When you left town, I prayed you escaped them. And you did. I just never imagined things got this bad.”
Sloane rests her hand on Tácito’s fist. “None of this was your fault. Please, stop blaming yourself for something you had no control over.”
Sloane and Tácito’s survival story never fails to cause acid to rise in my throat. I should have protected them and their families after I got a little power. After discovering the real reason Sloane hadn’t returned to Springfield was her fear of attracting attention and putting her parents at risk, it seems like her disappearance kept them safe. With her upgraded status as First Lady of Douglas I’ve put them at risk again. Not only her parents, but Tácito’s as well.
This time, I have the ability to protect them and I’m prepared to do so. When Sloane and Tácito unburdened themselves of this secret they’d carried all these years, I knew Sloane’s new fame would reignite the Ghost Six’s bloodlust. She isn’t supposed to be alive, and Ghost Six isn’t below murdering innocent people to send a message.
I dispatched a two-man team to each family. So far, everyone who has approached the Mitchells and Sandovals have checked out, but I won’t slack in my duties to protect my extended family. Sloane and Tácito’s emotional wellbeing is as important as their physical health. Both are mine to safeguard against all threats and I will never shirk my responsibilities.
“I think we’ve put together the plan with the greatest probability of success.” Ethan unrolls a map of an abandoned ship yard. “We identified this area as their hub of operations. Team Alpha and Beta will infiltrate from the east and west, respectively.” He points to the areas on the map that have the best cover, leaving a red and blue dot to mark the spots. “Once we gain control, we’ll lure Matthew and Emerson out.”
“Which team am I on?” Sloane asks.
“Sloane and I need to be on the same team.”
From our years of working together, Ethan knows not to challenge me when I’m stern with him, and the team makeup is nonnegotiable.
“Roger that. You’re both on Beta.”
“What about me? Where will I be?” Tácito leans over the map as if looking for a third dot.
“You’re on surveillance with Team Chatter.” Ethan retrieves a number of green dots.
