“Perhaps you could tell us Mr. Cordoza’s intentions with this impromptu visit across twelve state lines?” I cross my legs and fist the icy cold soda. “Please.”
“Yeah, that’ll do it,” Ellie grumbles. “Sensible, smart,andsubtle.”
“I-I’m sorry, Chief. I don’t know the specific details of Mr. Cordoza’s meetings. But if there’s anything I can help you with during this flight?—”
“I’m good.” She’s useless, so I wave her off and turn to Soph. It’s rude, I know, and callous as far as dismissals go. But we have shit to discuss, and that shit needs to be addressed in such a way that it can’t easily make its way back to Cordoza. “Perhaps we could circle back and consider alternative corridors of exit in the event our associates’ position may change? I suggest leveraging our collective competencies and maximizing cross-functional alignment.” I flash a wide, almost crazy smile. “I believe it is prudent we remain proactive to the current situation, and to do so, propose drawing up a blueprint that ensures agility and adaptability.”
Aubree snorts, grinning in my peripherals. “Smooth.”
“I’d like a round-table discussion on the matter, taking a deep dive and unpacking potential pivots so we,” I hook a thumb toward Aubree, then Ellie, “the stakeholders, remain in the loop and consistently moving toward a value-added outcome.”
“I-I’ll just go,” Mariana stammers, setting an array of sodas on the coffee table with shaking hands. “Dinner will be served in approximately thirty minutes.”
Turning on her heels, she puts her weight behind the trolley and scampers away.
“Hey, Corporate Barbie?” Soph snags a red fizzy drink and cracks the seal. “You back to normal yet?”
“I don’t see why we had to use his plane, for starters.” My nose twitches as unease flutters in my stomach. This doesn’t feel good. None of it does. “His plane means he can hear everything we say, it allows him to have his staff standing over our shoulders, and when we arrive, it gives him full control over where we land and who we interact with. If we’d flown with Felix, at least we could have an open conversation.”
“We can talk freely now,” Soph rumbles. “Assuming the chick is far enough away that she can’t hear us. I’ve got scramblers already active, so even if this plane is wired up, all Cordoza will hear is static. We have five and a bit hours to figure this out, then it’s game time.” She brings glittering, taunting eyes across to Aubree. “Can’t you just use your foo-foo and tell us what happens? Save me the effort of thinking with my brain.”
“You still lack respect, I see.” Aubree rolls her eyes. “Probably why candy is no longer a part of your diet.”
Soph’s jaw clenches. Releases. Her hands ball and her nose twitches.Jesus. Just like mine when I’m pissed off. “I propose afutureround-table discussion and deep dive into the matter, Doctor Emeri. Knowing whose scope I’m in is, I feel, a prudent and time-sensitive subject. I request our return flight be allocated to the topic.”
“I mean, I could…” Aubree reclines in her seat and crosses one leg over the other, bouncing her foot to a beat only she can hear. “However, it appears you’re yet to learn your lesson. Your failure to try is your failure to live.” She shrugs. “That’s on you.”
“Wait.” I swing my gaze along the jet’s interior and stop at Mariana’s too rigid, too intense stance. “Why is dinner being served? It’s barely lunchtime, and we’re scheduled to eat with Estefan.”
The cockpit door opens, allowing me a momentary view of two pilots and a shit-ton of buttons on a console. Then Estefan himself slowly shuffles out, his hand wrapped around a cane and his cheeks drooping more than usual. Paler, though not by much.
Adrenaline zings through my blood as I bound to my feet and step in front of the rest, the backs of my knees touching the table and my hands balled into intolerant fists. “Another lie, Estefan?” I try, I swear I do, not to let my big mouth get us killed. But, “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything else. Not after the bullshit you pulled this week.”
“Chief M?—”
“You werewrongfor what you did to me and Archer. Your lies caused damage, and now they’ve severed what could’ve been a positive, respectful association between your family and mine.”
The old man comes to a stop a full ten feet from where I stand, one hand on his cane and the other pressed to the wall. He looks me up and down with a slow sweep of his eyes, curious, when I would expect anger. Weary, whenThe Godfatherwould’ve already opened fire.
“Oh, no.” Aubree’s chin wobbles as she comes to stand on my left. “Estefan…”
His eyes twinkle—adoration, humor, and Jesus, a hell of a lot of exhaustion, too—and when Soph stops on my right, secrets and playfulness join the others in his gaze.
Bringing one hand up, he taps the side of his nose. “Don’t spoil the ending, Doctor Emeri.”
ARCHER
“What the fuck do you mean he’s not at the house?” I hold my phone in my left hand, our call on speaker, while five Malones fly somewhere over Montana. “Where else could he be?”
“I don’t know,” Kane Bishop rumbles, his voice deep and low, dangerous and verging on pissed. “He left his estate earlier this morning in a staff-driven black Lincoln. We figured he was on his way to one of his many offices in Manhattan, so Romeo followed the car and hasn’t blinked since. Then a different car left the estate two hours after the first. Spence followed that one. By the time a third rolled out an hour ago and Echo was on it, we started to wonder what was up. We can’t confirm where Cordoza is. No one has eyes on him.”
“The girls don’t land for a while, though, right?” Felix walks stressed laps into the carpet, his phone clutched in his hand, though the screen remains black. “He can be wherever he wants, because until they’re in the city, he doesn’t have to be atthe house.” Still, he shoots a fiery glare toward Stovic. “Check in with Christabelle. Have the girls moved until this is dealt with.”
“It’s already done.” Micah drags a hand through his hair, tugging on the dark locks as he works through his frustration. “Tiia, too. I’ve got them in Manhattan under lock and key until I tell them different.”
“Cordoza’s whereaboutsright nowaren’t a huge deal to normies,” Jay Bishop inserts. “But guys like me? I like to know where my target is long before I have him in my scope. The fact no one has seen him in the flesh since last night is a fuckin’ concern.”
“But you just said?—”
