“Agreed. But it would be easier if we had help. Malin is a mark that makes sense based on the story we told them. They already saw Troy on the board, they know we are going after him because he’s a well-known predator. Taking out the head of the secret service to get to the President won’t reveal more than they already know,” Luna explains.
Jules adds that we should still discuss Vale with them, in case they have ideas we don’t. Luna suggests that instead of them helping us take him down, maybe they can get his office bugged, or intel that we can use down the road. We all like that idea.
Everything feels like it’s spiraling, but with my sisters beside me, hashing out all the angles, the chaos fades. We’ve survived worse. We’ll survive this, too. Anyone who comes after us will just have to learn that the hard way.
TEN
compulsion
Enzo
Tuesday Evening, Day 6
Everything in Pippa’s condo is deliberate—clean lines, quiet luxury, nothing wasted. And I can’t appreciate any of it because I’m fuming about how damned easy it was to break in.
Yes, I’m a professional criminal and breaking into a private residence is second nature, but the fact that it wasn’t harder? That gets under my skin. She should know better. She shouldn’t leave herself exposed, not with the kind of enemies she’s collecting.
Hudson spoke to Luna today, but I decided I could sell the alliance better if I could talk to her privately. At least, I’ve convinced myself that’s the reason I’m here.
Where the fuck is she?She left the Hill over two hours ago.
Is she with a mark?
Is she with Luna and Jules?
Is she on a fucking date?
Does she date?
Fuck.I need to get this boiling rage under control.
I look around her place again. It’s exactly what I expected of her. Modern elegance. White marble countertops. Luxury cream walls and drapes softened by gold accents. A scent from the peonies on the table and something spiced lingers in the air. There’s a decanter of bourbon on the sideboard, next to a glass sculpture that looks fragile enough to shatter if I breathe too deeply.
And beneath all that polish, there’s heat. A crimson velvet blanket draped carelessly over a cream sofa. A painting that’s all chaos and color—a burst of flame against an otherwise polished room. It’s her in visual form: all refinement and clean edges, but underneath? Wildfire.
I give myself a healthy pour of bourbon as a reward for my patience before sinking into one of her leather armchairs. Tension coils in my neck and shoulders.
The seconds stretch, turning into long moments. And then I notice it.
An almost imperceptible red dot winking from the corner of the ceiling.
Cameras. Of course.
I take a deep breath, letting some of the tension out of my neck.
Eva didn’t find any tech she could hack in this unit, but I’m glad to see Pippa is smarter than I gave her credit.
No sooner do I realize my break-in didn’t go unnoticed than the lock clicks.
“Honey, I’m home,” Pippa’s voice rings out, light, amused, the sound of a match striking. She steps into view with a slow, knowing smile. “Your stalking tendencies are becoming worrisome, Enzo.”
And just like that, the fury I’d been nursing finds something new to burn on.
Her.
How is she sexier every time I see her? How does the mere sight of her make my pulse race? And why does every outfit she wears fit her like it was custom made for her flawless fucking body?
Her white pants are tailored impeccably and starkly contrast a black blouse that drapes in all the right places. Red lips. Red heels. A wet dream.
