Page 31 of Gambit
Oliver holds his hand up. “What do you think those bags of cash I bring home are for? Rainy days, baby.”
“Well, it’s pouring now,” I mutter.
“We’ll fix this,” James says, taking my hand. “If we have to slaughter the entire University board, Peters won’t get to them with this.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I’m always right. We’ll get to work. Oliver, you contact Adam. Didn’t Robert have a girl in the admin office? Raph, you worked with her after the first attack, hit her up. Tarquin, you and I are going to get eyes on him, so he can’t have a wank without us seeing it. This is a piece of cake.”
“Cake,” I groan. “I need food.”
“Then we’ll start there and move methodically and systematically until we find something.”
“Thanks,” I whisper to him as we rise and head to the kitchen. “I can’t think this through logically.”
“That’s why we’re a team, princess,” he murmurs, stopping and pulling me into his arms. “We’ve got your back. Always.”
I choke back the hormonal sob that bubbles up, but it’s too late. The tears spill from my eyes as James holds me, unable to hold them back. I stood up against Franks, Lila, Felix, Cian and Victoria, all without breaking stride, but this personal attack on my credibility is the worst thing Peters could’ve done to me. And he knows it.
16
JAMES
I feelher body tremble against mine, each wave of her silent sobs cutting through me like a fucking knife. Her strength is something I’ve always admired and seeing her like this—vulnerable and shaken—it lights a fire in me that’s both protective and fucking furious.
“Fuck Peters,” I murmur into her hair, “and fuck everyone who thinks they can take you down.”
She pulls back slightly, just enough to lock those fierce green eyes with mine. “Promise me we’ll fix this,” she says, her voice ragged with emotion but laced with that steel edge I know all too well.
I smile, but it’s no warm gesture—it’s all predatory anticipation. “I promise you, Eliza, we’ll not only make him pay, we’ll make it so he never forgets the lesson.”
She nods, and I can see the wheels turning in her head again—the leader rising from the ashes of this emotional ambush. She pulls away completely and wipes at her eyes with an impatient hand.
“Let’s eat first,” she decides.
I watch as she moves to the kitchen with purpose. The way she carries herself even now, speaks volumes of the woman she is, the Queen of our fucked-up little empire.
As Oliver starts pulling out ingredients, I glance at my phone. It’s time to send out some feelers, gather intel from my network about Peters. I shoot out a few texts, and then I’m ready to play my part in the plan.
“Tarquin and I will keep tabs on Peters,” I reiterate, nudging my brother-in-arms as he tosses a knife up and catches it by the handle—a party trick that never gets old. “And we’ll need to call in some favours from our contacts in the city. There’s no way this fucker’s not dirty. We just need to find out how.”
Raphael is already on his phone. “Robert is getting that girl on the case, Jess,” he says without looking up.
“Okay, good,” Eliza murmurs.
Oliver flips a pancake with ease and grins back at her. “Pancakes? Quicker than actual cake.”
“Perfect,” she says with a weak smile.
As they banter, I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket—a quick reply from one of my contacts with some promising info about Peters’ financials.
“Adam’s willing to talk,” Oliver says, glancing at his own phone as he slides a pancake onto Eliza’s plate. “Gotta go. Someone take over? Not James.”
“Fuck you,” I grouse, but I know my limitations. I’m no chef.
“Raph, you’re up,” Tarquin calls to Raphael, who takes over with a nod.
I’m burning to dive into that text, but first things first—I glance at Eliza and make sure she starts eating. “Eat up,” I murmur.
