Page 70 of Exposing Adonis

“Why is he here? Did you drop a fork?” I whined.

“No,” Callum said with a shrug. “Hugo probably did.”

“You’re welcome, by the way,” Brett said, leaning back in the hospital chair. I blinked at him. “Don’t you want to know what you’re thanking me for?”

“Nope.” But he wasn’t really interested in my answer.

“I made it look like suicide,” Brett said, looking down at his hands. “And Joe and I got rid of the big man too. He’s about to get found on a bit of a bender gone wrong. You’re in the clear.” He put his hands in his pockets. “And just because I’m a nice guy, I cleared everything up. Did you know that Jason was the Ferryman this whole time?”

He widened his eyes in faux astonishment.

“What?” My head was spinning. I had no idea what the fuck he was talking about.

“All of the Ferryman’s kills have been attributed to Jason Rhodes, at the order of Alex Baas who, wracked with total guilt, killed himself in his office later today.” He theatrically winced. “Gnarly stuff. Put a bullet in his head. Don’t know how we’re going to explain the slit throat. Maybe he was just a clumsy fuck, and hurt himself shaving.” Then he looked a little embarrassed as he raised a brow at me. “I did pinch some of your funds from the Caymans to make a money trail, but I’m sure you’ll forgive me, now that you and your brother have clean backgrounds.”

I stared at this bizarre man. Why would he do this? And how had everything just worked out?

“Congratulations on the wedding,” Brett kept talking. “Remember that ’til death do you part isn’t a challenge. Try not to become a black widow.” He stood up from his chair, then pointed a professorial finger at me. “But if you do, don’t expect me to help dispose of that body.”

Brett leaned down and ruffled my hair. I tilted my head away and Callum let out a growl. Brett laughed.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Cal, ol’ buddy, ol’ pal,” he gave him those gun fingers then opened the door to step out. “I’ll be in touch.”

Before Brett reached the door, he turned around, snapping his fingers as if he’d just remembered something.

“By the way,” he said with a chuckle, “I was the one who found you two, okay? I’d hate for there to be any confusion on that.”

Callum narrowed his eyes, looking at Brett with a new level of mistrust and hatred. Who had found us? I must have been passed out when help arrived. But if it wasn’t Brett, then maybe Joe?

“You two kids have yourself a swell night.” With a two-finger salute at his eyebrow, Brett made his grand exit, the door shutting with a definitive click.

“This is what married life is going to be, isn’t it?” Callum said, still staring at the door. When his forest green eyes turned to me, a corner of his mouth tipped up. “A barrel of laughs filled with clowns and jokers.”

Epilogue

Pippa

Alex’s Mansion, Southern Turkey

Youneverwouldhaveguessed it, but Ihatemesses. I always have. Even as an infant, I spent my time cleaning and not messing about.

It’s probably hard to imagine that I was cute once. Small, delicate, with a heart-shaped face dressed in pink and white frills from head to toe.

I used to want to be a Princess, until that Megan got her claws into Harry. But no, here I am, with menacing black latex gloves and a bucket of blood.

Brett Bradley, my American CIA counterpart, had the enviable task of whisking Callum and his injured assassin to a black site where she could recuperate under American supervision. He had declared “primacy!” over the injury becauseshewas injured, and she was a yank.

Primacy was the intelligence community’s way of staking claim, saying they’re more important so they can take ownership of that particular situation.

Since Callum didn’t have the decency to get shot, I lost sovereignty. Never trust men. And one should never trust a Yank. They’re a horrid species.

No, Brett declared sovereignty overthatbecause he didn’t want the task that I was currently doing. He no longer enjoyed taking out the trash or staging deaths. He’d grown soft since he adopted a daughter. Mostdecentfathers become softer when they have a child. Not mine, though …

Lea had slit Alex’s throat then used him as a human shield. She wasn’t just great at destroying my engagement, but she had just destroyed what could have been a deliciouslyperfectdeath with her particular brand of violence.

Now it was all a fucking mess.

I had to meticulously collect every ounce of Alex’s blood on the floor, while trying to get an annoyingly distraught Callum topay attention, so that his woman’s blood didn’t mix with the victim’s. If her blood was found with his, then the scene would become unimaginably hard to stage, and my workload and follow up would intensify.

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