Page 18 of Explosive Vengeance

Draining the last of her energy drink, she put the can into the recycling bin, then crossed to the sofa a few yards away, aware of his eyes following her every move. She liked it, and the reluctant male interest in his gaze, probably more than she should.

Stretching out on her back on the cushions to give him a good long look at her, Chloe tucked a hand behind her head, then looked him up and down once and gave him a naughty smile. “So. What should we do to amuse ourselves for the next few hours?”

Chapter Six

Guillaume rubbed at his tired, burning eyes and leaned back in his leather chair in his home office. “Nothing else?” he said into his cell. There had to be some new intel about Dom’s killer by now.

“Not yet,” Jean-Pierre answered.

His heart sank. “Keep looking. I want everyone we have put on this.” It was nine in the morning now. He hadn’t slept all night. How could he, when Dom’s body—what was left of it—was still at the hospital morgue?

“When is the service?”

“Friday afternoon.” He couldn’t believe he was planning a funeral for his brother instead of closing business deals with him. Dom had been a handful to control, but over the last few years he’d become so much more stable and reliable—except when it came to the women. “The mayor’s office offered security for it but I want you to handle it personally. There will be politicians there, some celebrities.” In light of how Dom had died, security needed to be tight. Especially since Guillaume’s wife and daughters would be there. He took zero chances with his family.

“Understood. I’ll start working on it now.”

“Good. I’ll talk to you later.” He ended the call just as a knock came at his office door. He took a moment to compose himself and put on a brighter expression. “Come in.”

The door opened slightly and his youngest daughter appeared holding a breakfast tray. Eleven years old, the image of her mother. “I brought you some coffee and a snack,” Sophie said softly, her face screwed up in concentration as she carried it across the Aubusson carpet.

He melted, his throat tightening. “Thank you, my angel.”

She set it on his desk, then paused to study him, her expression serious and full of concern. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I’m feeling much better now because of this,” he lied, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head. She was so sweet, a little mother already, wanting to take care of everyone.

Dom’s death had shaken him to his core. Guillaume’s family should have been untouchable, but last night had proven otherwise. It stood to reason he might be a target for whoever had killed Dom. And if he was in danger, then his wife and daughters might be as well.

Raw protectiveness ripped through him as he held Sophie. He would do anything to protect them. Anyone thinking to threaten or harm them to get to him would die.

To disguise his fears, he put on a smile. “I’m just getting things organized for Uncle Dom’s funeral.”

“Okay, but make sure you eat. I love you.” She kissed his bristly cheek and flounced from the room.

A heavy weight settled in his chest as the door shut behind her, her exit taking the life and color from the room. His whole reality had shifted in the last twelve hours. So many things needed his immediate attention.

There were deals in place that couldn’t be undone. Things that needed to be overseen and finalized. Dom was supposed to have handled the upcoming shipment. Guillaume had always distanced himself from that aspect of the business because it helped maintain his image in the community, but now he had no choice. He would have to handle it personally.

But before that, he had to lay his little brother to rest.

He flipped open his laptop and brought up the security feed from Dom’s office that he’d been going over with his experts. The woman on screen was some sort of operative. Had to be. She spoke perfect French, without any hint of an accent that might give them a clue as to her background, and her ID as Gabrielle checked out, though he was certain it was fake.

He rubbed a hand over his mouth, staring at her. He’d memorized that face. Every line of it. If she appeared anywhere else during their search, he would know it, regardless of whether she tried to disguise herself.

They hadn’t found out anything more about her yet but she must have serious, specific training to pull off a murder like this and slip away. The British and American governments had been watching Dom occasionally over the last few years. Was she one of theirs?

The lack of information on her was frustrating, but it also made him suspicious because of something he’d heard recently. There had been rumors circulating over the past few months about a possible network of American female operatives. The program responsible for training and overseeing their operations had supposedly shut down some time ago, but he was connected enough that he heard things, and if the story was true, then it seemed like this woman fit the profile.

Was he dealing with one of the fabled Valkyries? Some people in Guillaume’s circle said that Yuri Stanislav had met his end at the hand of one in London last month. That was interesting by itself, but even more interesting to Guillaume was that it seemed in Stanislav’s case, that female operative hadn’t been working alone—and Guillaume had heard that Valkyriesalwaysworked alone.

He would have to be careful moving forward, let his people find and capture her so he maintained plausible distance from the whole thing, then he could dispose of her in whatever means he wanted. “Gabrielle” was an attractive, fit woman in her prime. He could get top dollar for her on the black market. If it turned out she was a Valkyrie? He could get ten times more.

This wasn’t about money, however. He had enough of that already to last him and the next three generations of Dubois descendants, and keep them all in an extremely comfortable lifestyle. No, this was about justice and revenge, and he had the resources and dirty contacts to make it happen.

“In time,” he murmured as he stared at her polished image on screen. “All in good time.” Right now he had to give his brother the final, dignified sendoff Dom deserved.

Twenty minutes later he was talking to his priest on the phone when Jean-Pierre walked in. One look at his head of security’s face, and Guillaume knew they had a lead.

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