Page 98 of The Wrecked One

“True.” Carter checked his watch. “And if our hacker has any intention of making in-person contact at the party tonight, my guess is it’ll be with you.”

Wyatt wasted no time to hiss, “I still don’t like she’s going to this, and that I’m not allowed to join her at the party.”

“I only managed to get five invites,” Carter reminded him. “Gray and the others aren’t coming, either.”

It’d just be Carter, Jesse, Mya, myself, and Gwen. With any luck, Hugo would choose me to fight. Jesse was a father, and Carter was a soon-to-be dad, and I didn’t want them stepping into that ring on my behalf, even if they stood a better chance at winning. At the end of the day, though, all that mattered was that we get the Sorens to that island.

Wait . . . “What if I don’t actually fight him?” I couldn’t believe I’d suggested that, but what if, unlike my dad, I chose family over revenge? What if I don’t make the same mistakes he did?

Mya’s arms fell limp at her sides as she stared at me, waiting for me to continue. When her mouth rounded, it was in understanding, not surprise, and her face lit up at the idea I was seconds away from presenting.

I wasn’t sure why any of us hadn’t thought of this before, but we’d thrown together this plan so fast. I’d also been a bit sidetracked by my desire to personally take out Hugo Soren and hadn’t really considered this slight modification to the plan as a possibility. “I can agree to fight as planned, but we don’t actually need to buy this hotel, right?” I asked Carter. His eyes thinned, but he offered what I read as a hesitant nod. “So, who wins doesn’t matter, as long as we bait the Sorens away from here.”

“I wouldn’t mind owning this hotel, to be honest. There could be some benefits to it.” Carter stroked his jaw. “But if you think there’s a chance you, uh, wouldn’t survive, then no, it’s not worth that risk.”

Shooting Mya a quick look, that plea in her eyes for me to be honest was enough for me. I now knew what I had to do. Love over revenge. “Hugo will kill me.” I crossed the room, took Mya’s hand, and whispered, “And I want to live.”

38

OLIVER

We have a new plan. I had to keep reminding myself of that. I couldn’t let my anger for the Sorens take over my mouth. Nothing good would come of me slipping and saying something we hadn’t rehearsed.

Although both Teddy and Easton had offered to swap places and fight Hugo for me, they also knew their limitations. They were badasses in their own right, but they weren’t skilled boxers or UFC fighters. They had no experience inside a ring.

Aside from Carter and Jesse, who we’d already ruled out, Asher Hayes from Bravo Team and Adam McGregor were viable options as fighters. They would have been our best shots if we really wanted to win the hotel. But like Carter and Jesse, they had families waiting for them at home. And we refused to risk their lives for the sake of our team owning The Sapphire.

So the new plan basically boiled down to doing whatever it took to make sure Hugo selected me. Not that it really mattered anymore since nobody would actually be fighting, but I’d be whoever I had to be for this mission if it meant a second chance with Mya.

I still had to find my way to that second chance, though. I knew it started with learning how to forgive myself for the past, then actually doing it. That was a fight I was willing to take. Fighting to get better and heal so we could have a future one day.

None of this changed the fact that I knew the minute I laid eyes on Hugo Soren, the desire to personally throttle the life from him would ramp back up.

Remain on mission. Don’t let Hugo get to you. How many more times would I have to practice those words until they finally sank in?

Although, as far as ops went, this one wasn’t exactly the same. We were dressed up in evening wear, not the easiest to maneuver in, and we didn’t have the comfort of comms in our ears, limiting the connection between us and the rest of the team. We knew we’d be thoroughly checked before entering the party, so we couldn’t take the risk. In a way, that leveled the playing field with the Sorens. If we weren’t strapped or wired, neither were they.

Regardless, thanks to Gwen hacking into the outdoor surveillance cameras before we’d left for the party, we knew Sydney and the others still had eyes on us.

“You doing okay?” Mya asked, gently tugging my arm.

The knot in my throat had me pulling on the collar of my shirt as I took in the sight of her. Her dress was thanks to Sydney, and I wasn’t a fan of the fact our archenemies would be seeing her in it tonight. Because, God help me, that dress was a statement in its own right, but on this woman, it was something else altogether. I could have used one of Mya’s made-up words for an adjective to describe how she looked. She’d probably say something like fanfuckingtabulous. Well, she swore less than I did. More like fanfreakingtabulous.

“You like it, huh?” Mya released my arm to play with the skirt of the dress.

More like half of a skirt. Where’s the rest of it?

She smiled and twirled as if she’d forgotten we were on an op instead of inside a fairy tale where that pink flowery dress belonged. “Whimsical ruffle hem, flowing silhouette, daring high slit, and this captivating open back—gorgeous, right?”

“Daring. Yeah, you could say that.” I swallowed. “You don’t have to sell me on it.” I finally worked free the top buttons of my shirt so I could breathe. “I’m sold.” Definitely captivating, and gorgeous, that’s for sure.

She had on some type of shimmery pink eyeshadow and the same shimmer was on her high cheekbones. But when she dragged her thumb along the line of her pink lips, I about fell the fuck over.

It’d been a long time since that mouth of hers had been wrapped around my cock, and this was the wrong time to be thinking about that.

“Smudge-proof.” She showed me her thumb, with a distinct lack of lipstick. “Just in case you feel like testing it out at some point.”

Soren-the-fuck-who? With her tempting me like a goddess in the flower garden, I could barely remember my own name, let alone our targets’.

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