Page 134 of Making Choices

“How are you—look… I’ve got to go. That’s the third time he’s rung me, if I don’t answer the next time, he’ll hunt me down to knock my teeth down my throat.”

“Go. I have things under control here.”

“I sure hope so.”

When he ends the call, I keep the phone to my ear for another few moments because I know that the second I lower the device, I’ll have to admit to myself that I’ve fucked up hardcore. My first real challenge as sergeant-at-arms and I’ve dropped the ball.

The woman I brought into our lives is a Maddison.

Likely a high-level associate.

Her dad is Kristoff’s advisor, or what the mafia would call a consigliere.

If they’ve sent in Tadhg’s daughter, then they have faith in her skills.

Now, I have to discover her exact skillset before it’s too late.

Pocketing my phone, I burst into Cherub’s bedroom.

As I sit down next to Bebe and drape a heavy arm across her shoulders, the cunning mob bitch plays the part of the outraged girlfriend while my duchess trips over herself to make her feel welcome. Every time Cherub tries to console Bebe’s phony jealousy, Nadia rolls her eyes and I go out of my way to rile my fake girlfriend up some more.

The faster I can knock her off her game, the better things will play out for me.

I hope.

Eventually, as the two blondes lead the way down to the garage, I get my chance to bait her. “So, Gráinne, does Jack know that his wife has fucked me twice?”

“He knows,” Bebe retorts. “After all, he’s the one who suggested that the quickest way into your inner circle was via your dick—especially knowing how long you’ve been denying yourself a taste of your Cherub.”

Her mention of my duchess fills my gut with dread.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

When we reach the garage, I try to keep her by my side. I don’t want to alert Cherub to the danger in our midst until I can ascertain if Bebe is armed, and who her real target is. The comment about Jenna and my son leads me to believe that I’m the person she’s after, yet I can’t allow myself to be lulled into another false sense of security.

It doesn’t make sense for the Maddisons to hold Jenna’s suicide against me.

As far as I know, my ex-fiancée wasn’t connected to organised crime.

Her dad’s a property developer.

Her mother is a socialite with a taste for fundraising.

While I wrack my brain for a pattern to all this, Bebe deliberately slips away from me. She huddles with Cherub and Nadia, slanting goading looks my way every now and then. Armed to the teeth, and ready to take her out if she tries anything, I leave the girls to talk while I pretend to fix my SUV’s audio.

Little does Bebe know, but I’m actually ensuring that the tracking system Cub created is active and the surveillance he installed in my bomb-proof vehicle is working. Venom sneered at the ‘unnecessary’ expense when I imported the Range Rover from the states four years ago. Right now, I’m more than happy to have spent the seven-hundred grand on it.

As Nadia climbs into the back seat, I text my tech officer.

SLASH: Can you get eyes on my Rover?

CUB: Yep

CUB: Will hack the CCTV at the stadium too

CUB: All the traffic cams are feeding back to me

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