He runs a hand through his hair and sighs like I’m the final straw that’s going to end his patience. “I know you can. Just, please, Dutch. Go sit with The Duke and Tessa.”
I suck my teeth, glaring at him, then give up. Some fights are worth it, some aren’t. I push past him and sit back down, and he gives me a smile in return, before turning back to Ryan and Trey.
The Duke gives me a wry smile, her long blonde hair tied back in a sleek ponytail. “Men, right?” I roll my eyes at her, and she laughs quietly, then leans toward me. “I’ve been on this model of plane before. If I’m correct, the pilot is dead, and someone has hijacked it.”
I glance around the plane. Kian and Jace are eyeing us surreptitiously, while The Duke’s men are quietly talking to each other. Nate and Trey are blocking the cockpit’s door, so I can’t see what’s happening up there. Bringing my attention back to her, I tilt my head. “What are you suggesting?”
“Here.” She slides her hand across the table, and I take the item hidden underneath it. A garrote. The corner of my mouth lifts into a smile.
“What should I do with this? Wait until Nate pisses you off again and use it on him?”
She chuckles, eyes dancing with mirth. “At the back of the plane, between the bedroom and bathroom, there’s an access hatch in the floor. If you go down it and work your way back up to the front of the plane, you’ll find another hatch that leads into the cockpit.” She nods toward the garrote in my hands. “We can’t use a gun on the plane, but that should work nicely if you get the chance to use it.”
I slip it into my pocket, then stand and stretch. The Duke puts her hand out and whispers, “I can fly a plane if need be.” I nod in understanding and move toward the bathroom. The Duke talks to Jase and Kian, distracting them. I’m sure they wouldn’t allow me to go on my own, and this requires stealth.
Glancing behind me, and seeing everyone distracted, I pull the hatch open and drop through, closing it behind me. The belly of the plane is scarcely lit, a low-watt light strip leading from one end to the other.
Our suitcases and other items are neatly stacked to one side, allowing me easy access to the front of the plane. As I pass by, I grab one of the cases to stand on, placing it under the hatch. Then I carefully lift it just an inch or so, getting my bearings.
The pilot and co-pilot are tossed in a corner, eyes staring blankly with their throats torn open. Blood spatter decorates the cabin like scarlet raindrops streaking down a windowpane.
Fucking hell.
A chair is directly in front of me, a man’s legs braced on the floor. Luckily, it’s turned away, so he doesn’t see the hatch open. A woman’s leg hangs over the side, her navy high heel streaked with blood.
From under the chair, I can make out two other pairs of legs: Ryan and Trey. The man in front of me swings the chair, just a little, the muscles in his legs tensing. “Here’s how this is going to go,” the man starts, and I recognize the voice—my cousin, Andrea. Oh, this fucker thinks he’s brave. “You’re going to bring the traitor bitch to me. I’ll let this lovely lady go, and then I’m barricading the door. You can all go back to your seats, and when I land the plane, we’ll go our separate ways.”
Fucker really doesn’t know who is on this plane, does he? Every single one of us is a killer. Assassins, strategists, hackers, snipers. Warriors. And this dumb shit thinks he’s going to negotiate? I almost want to dance with glee, bloodlust singing in my veins.
I hear one of the men growl, followed by Ryan’s voice. “This is your plan? Hijack a plane, to do what? ‘Take the traitorous bitch’? What are you going to do if we say no? Crash the plane and kill yourself?” Trey chuckles, the sound of his knuckles cracking like gunshots going off in the small space.
I use the cover of Ryan talking to pull myself silently out of the hatch. Staying low, I crouch behind the chair, gently lowering the lid so it doesn’t get in my way. I just need to wait for the opportune moment to make my presence known.
Ryan’s quiet for a moment, and Andrea fidgets, shifting the flight attendant in his arms. I can smell the uncertainty on him, and a feral smile spreads across my face. “I’ll kill her.” The woman gasps when she hears this but stays still. He must be holding a weapon to her.
“Maybe, if you had the pilot hostage, I’d give a shit. She could be your accomplice for all I know. You didn’t think this through, did you?”
My cousin shifts at Ryan’s words and the woman cries out. Fucker is getting nervous, and I’d rather not have another casualty on our hands. Just as I’m about to stand, Ryan starts talking, and I wait to see where he’s going with it.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Do you know whoIam?” he counters back. “I’m the nephew of the most powerful don in the United States. He–” he stops abruptly as the cold metal of the garrote slips around his neck. The knife he was holding clatters to the floor, forgotten as he raises his hands to his neck, desperately trying to keep it from choking him.
I don’t have it that tight—yet. I chuckle softly as I rise behind him, Ryan and Trey’s eyes flaring wide at my sudden appearance. Giving them a wink, I turn to my cousin, unable to stop myself from taunting him. Pressing my cheek to his, I purr, “Hello, Andrea. This is a nice surprise. Did Vincenzo send you after me?”
Andrea nods very slightly, the razor-sharp wire preventing him from doing more. Ryan steps forward and grabs the terrified flight attendant, pushing her out the door. I twist the garrote, tightening it slightly, causing Andrea to flap his hands like a nervous chicken. I quickly move both handles to one hand, allowing me one free in case I need it.
“And you thought that mid-flight was the best time to do this? Andrea, Andrea, Andrea. I’m beginning to wonder if my father is starting to lose his mind. He sent you after me?” I laugh derisively. “Now, if he’d sent Cesare, I might be frightened. Maybe. But you? Not so much.”
“You’re nothing but a backstabbing Judas, Daniella. You—” his words are cut off as I grab him by the hair and tilt his head back, a line of blood oozing from the cut.
“Oh, cousin, you done messed up. Did you piss Vincenzo off? Did he send you after me just so he could get you killed?”
Andrea gulps, one of his hands shaking before he fists it, trying to hide his fear. “You’re not going to kill me, Daniella. You’re not a murderer. Not like this, in cold blood.”
“Allow me to let you in on a little secret, cousin,” I start, letting go of his head. “I know it’s one of your jobs to keep on top of dark web chatter. Tell me, have you ever heard of the Charon Group?”
He nods reluctantly. “Andrea, meet Ryan Grant, founder and head of the Charon Group.”
