Page 83 of Protect Your Queen

Despite that, there were two desks. Hers was clean, orderly, modern and made with glass and chrome. A single magenta orchid beside a little lamp. His was cluttered, with large screens. There were assorted wires, cables and clutter along the mahogany top.

I sat at his desk, flipping open the laptop that had a coffee stain on the top.

I saw crumbs along the desk, and shuddered, wondering how long it would take before there was a line of ants coming in to clean up that mess.

The man’s security was abysmally bad. Sure, he tried to hide folders within folders, and I had to click through them all one by one. Ultimately, he expected people not to find anything because it took so much work to get to what he was hiding.

Banking on other people’s laziness is never a good security plan.

In an encrypted folder, in a mailbox hidden in his files, was a message: “Shoot her.”

The phone number I knew by heart. Mario’s.

The text response almost made me laugh. “It’s California, how do I even get a gun?”

“You have a clean record. You can get one, easy. You give me confirmation she is dead, I will have a plane ready for you at Burbank.”

There was negotiation about money. One million. No, two. At one point, Mario wanted five. “I know what your wife is worth.”

That was fucking interesting.

How was Jestiny a threat to his marriage? She had been a virgin, so I knew they weren’t lovers, but there are a hundred other things people can do outside of sex. Was that the case? That didn’t seem likely.

Still, he was guilty. It was as clear as day. That meant we were ready to execute.

I had never killed someone within the United States. Certainly not a US Citizen. I had taken down enemy insurgents, and occasionally, uniformed enemy combatants. I had fought spies, and assassins…

But a music executive with the computer skills of a 1950s housewife? It felt too easy. There was no challenge here.

But, then again, he was threatening something precious to me.

Waking up beside her this morning was more intimate than the act we did the night before, and I needed that in my life.

He wanted to harm what was rightfully mine to protect, and for that, I would happily place a bullet in his skull.

I gathered my things and walked out, giving the security guard a wave as I went. I walked by the mailbox and casually ripped off the jammer they had taped beneath it. I looked back over my shoulder to see the guard looking at his phone. He smiled in satisfaction as he discovered he was on the internet again, fulfilling my cover until I could walk out of view, to the little rental car that we’d picked up just for this mission.

Oncesafely in the car, I fished my phone out of my pocket and called Lea.

“She’s threatening his marriage, somehow.”

“Are they sleeping together?” Lea asked, her voice completely nonchalant.

“No!” I tried not to shout, even though every fiber of my being wanted to defend Jestiny. I wanted to tell Lea that they were wrong about her. That she was different. But I knew it wouldn’t matter to the gemini assassins. To them, she was business. “There’s no chance of that.”

“Is your judgment clouded?” The lack of accusation in her tone was accusation in itself.

“No, not on this. I can confirm that they arenotlovers.”

I don’t know how she took it. I don’t know if she believed me. I sure as fuck wasn’t going to announce that I had de-flowered a virgin while on the job. But my Songbird had not slept her way to the top. I knew that with complete certainty.

“Blackmail, then?” Lea asked, moving from topic to topic with mechanical ease.

“Maybe.”

“Ask her,” she commanded. “That’s our best chance to know why. Whatever she has on him will ruin his marriage. And they’re right. His wife is worth a billion, and he gets nothing if they divorce. Pre-nups are hard to enforce in California, but this one is pretty solid. Plus, the optics alone would destroy Michael Dryden, if she goes to the tabloids.”

I drove through the winding California streets. While they weren’t as busy as usual, the freeway was still stuttering along the 405 freeway. The hot sun blazed through the car. The air conditioner of the sedan was having a hard time keeping up with the triple digit temperatures. Or maybe that was just the blood pumping in my veins that wanted her as far away from the Drydens as humanly possible.

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