Chapter Twenty-One

Wick

A week later, noon at Win, the Derby at Historic Derby Lane, St Petersburg, Florida…

"I don't trust this sudden need for a meeting, Wick. My gut is telling me Bradley Gray is up to something."

"You're worrying unnecessarily, honey," Wick said soothingly as she flattened her palm against Max's chest. "I ended the contract, and all he wants is a final feedback session. I'm sure it's nothing other than his usual bombastic way of exerting his power over me as a service provider. You know I've got to keep playing the game. It's the only way to ensure we clear Jax's name. Now that the fake reports have hit the media, he's become enemy number one across the entire New York State. Gray should be happy about that, and for all we know, he's going to walk away from W. Carter Investigations today, none the wiser."

"I'll be close. If he tries anything shady, just scream."

"The only time you'll hear me scream is when you have a whip or a flogger in your hand, Max DuPont. This is my job, and you clearly have no idea what my skill set is, so please stop treating me like a porcelain doll."

"I wouldn't dare, but neither should you shun my offer for help should the need arrive. Don't forget, love. We're in this together. Jax and I got you into this mess. I'm not letting you take the heat alone."

Wick followed Nitro's example and rolled her eyes.

"You didn't get me into this mess. I accepted the job before we even met. Granted, Bradley Gray lied to me; otherwise, I would never have accepted it. We don't collaborate with criminals, and the moment we realized the sums didn't add up, we decided to investigate Gray… all before Jax pitched up and made the suggestion we switch sides."

"Just don't aggravate the man."

"I know what I'm doing, Max, so please stop worrying." Her heart skipped a beat as he cupped her cheeks and kissed her tenderly.

"Better get used to it. Wick. I love you, so I'm never going to stop worrying about you. Besides, I have to secure our future, and one asshole Bradley Gray isn't going to jinx it."

"My sentiments exactly." Wick hugged him fiercely. "You have no idea how wonderful it feels to have someone care so much about me, Max." She teared up as she untangled herself from him. "No idea at all." Turning away, she headed to Gray's private box. "I'll be back before you miss me, honey."

"You better be." His voice darkened as it chased after her, stealing her breath and setting her loins afire. "Especially since that eye roll you just gave me needs to be addressed."

"Good job, Master M," she mumbled, "Arousing my lust just as I'm about to face the city's biggest enemy." With difficulty, she managed to ignore her throbbing clit at the thought of being bent over Max's lap, his large palm cracking against her ass, over and over as he—

Enough! Concentrate on Gray, Wick. There'll be time for canoodling later.

Yeah, the sooner this motherfucker is out of our lives, the better.

Hesitating at the door of the private box, she glanced over the crowd, relaxing as she found additional courage in Max's eyes that were still steadfast on her. No matter where life might take her, now that he was in her heart, nothing could hurt her. Unlike Stefan, she trusted him implicitly—with her body, heart, and soul.

"Gawd, I'm such a lucky bitch."

Opening the door, she was taken aback to find the object of her recent thoughts standing on the balcony, sipping a drink along with a very chirpy Bradley Gray.

"What is he doing here?" Wick asked without preamble as she joined them.

"Good afternoon to you too, Ms. Bitch," Bradley cooed as he finished his drink. "Glad you could make it on time."

"Nice to see you again, Wick darling. It's been a while." Stefan Jurgens smirked at the flash of surprise on her face that she had no way of hiding.

"Not long enough," she sneered, ignoring the hand he reached out to her as she addressed Bradley. "Well, I'm here. What do you want? As far as I'm concerned, our business has been concluded." She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Apart from the balance of your payment, which I'm still waiting for."

"You were right, Stefan. She is a fiery one." Bradley refilled his glass. "Could I interest you to join us for a drink, Ms. Bitch?"

"I'm not here to socialize, Mr. Gray, so let's not beat around the bush, shall we?"

"Your animosity is alarming, Ms. Bitch. I sincerely hope this isn't how you treat all your clients," Bradley regarded her with a regally arched brow.

"My animosity spurts from being lied to, Mr. Gray. Had I known your true reason for appointing me to investigate Jax Crowthorne and the devious way in which you abused my services to set him up, I would never have taken the job."

"Set him up? That sounds like a mighty serious accusation, young lady… which I hope you can prove. Otherwise, I'll be expecting an apology." He puffed on a cigar and smiled at her through the rings of smoke he blew into the air. "I assure you all I did was use the information you supplied and shared it with the relevant authorities." He pointed to Steffan. "Hence Deputy Director Jurgens' presence. My aim wasn't only to discredit Crowthorne for lying to the public but also to rid the community of criminals like him who live the high road life while sponging on others to fill their coffers."

"If you're doing all that, again I ask, what am I doing here?" Wick was hard-pressed to remain calm when all she wanted to do was bash the lying bastard's head in.

"Of course, my apologies. I thought you would've made the connection. Never mind, I'll just spare you the headache. You are here to verify and supply all your sources to Director Jurgens, so they can officially place Crowthorne under arrest and charge him with organized criminal activities."

Wick looked at Stefan, noting how the once handsome and youthful man had aged in the five years since she had last seen him. Though at forty-two, he was still muscular and athletic in build, his dark blonde hair was already thinning and flecked with gray. His piercing blue eyes were surrounded by fine lines and wrinkles that spoke of too many late nights, liquor, and one too many cigarettes. She wondered how she could have ever believed that she loved this man, whose good looks she now knew masked a deceitful and dishonest nature.

Underneath all that debonair physique was a cruel and manipulative person. The man who stood before her now was rapidly turning into a shadow of the one she had believed she loved all those years ago. Now, she was silently thankful she had seen through all that carefully perfected fa?ade and walked away.

"I'm afraid you made a mistake, Mr. Gray," she said with a disgusted smirk. "I am under no obligation to share anything with the FBI, especially since I have no idea what sources you are referring to. Least of all, do I know what criminal activities you believe Crowthorne is involved in." She shrugged. "As far as I recall, I informed you, in writing, that I couldn't find anything untoward on Jax Crowthorne."

"You fucking bitch!" Bradley sneered. "You sent me the information in an encrypted…" Bradley's words drifted off, realizing that he was potentially incriminating himself.

Wick had no idea what the association was between Bradley and Stefan, especially in light of what he had said upon her arrival. What was obvious was that he was wary of giving the deputy director anything substantial he could use against him. No surprise, there was no trust between the two men.

"I suggest you do as Bradley said, Wick, especially since he paid for the information you supplied." Stefan frowned darkly. "You wouldn't want me to lay a charge of white-collar crime against you, right? Imagine what that would do to the image of your company. Even if the charges are thrown out, you would lose everything."

"I see you haven't changed at all. Oh, no, wait. You have. You've turned into a complete jerk." Wick offered him a sweet smile. "Unfortunately, your threat means shit, Director Jurgens, especially in light of the fact that your friend over here hasn't paid me." She sashayed toward the door, winking at Stefan over her shoulder. "Good luck trying to convince him to share the encrypted folder location he's referring to with you. On that note… bye-bye, boys."

Opening the door, Wick released the breath she had been holding. She didn't get far as the large body of a man with the coldest blue eyes she had ever seen blocked her exit.

"Finally, I get to meet the woman who put Bradley Gray in a box."

"Who the fuck are you?" Wick was forced to retreat as he walked forward, pushing her back inside.

"I'm the man nightmares are made of."

Max

Win, the Derby at Historic Derby Lane, St Petersburg, Florida…

The crowd at the Derby was electric. Their excited chatter and laughter filled the air as they eagerly anticipated the races. The festive atmosphere stood in stark contrast to the gnawing worry that consumed Max's thoughts. His mind raced with scenarios, each more dire than the last, as he imagined the potential dangers Wick faced in her meeting with Gray.

Max clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he fought the overwhelming urge to burst through the door and ensure her safety. His heart pounded in his chest, and a bead of sweat trickled down his temple despite the cool breeze. He drew in a deep breath to calm his nerves, but the unease only intensified.

As a seasoned Delta Force operative, Max had learned to trust his instincts, and right now, they were screaming at him to intervene. He knew Wick was a capable police officer, trained in hand-to-hand combat and able to hold her own, but the thought of her facing Bradley Gray alone made his stomach churn. Max had seen the video clips of her fighting skills, but the irrational fear for her well-being refused to subside.

The ringing of his cell phone jolted Max from his thoughts. He glanced at the screen, unsurprised to see Colonel Camden Brett's name. He had anticipated this call ever since his trip to Maine to visit his mother, where he had unexpectedly encountered Matthew. Camden likely already knew about their meeting, and Max braced himself for the conversation.

"How did it feel to come face-to-face with that bastard after all these years, my boy?"

Max's throat tightened with emotion as he answered the phone. Camden had been more of a father figure to him than Matthew ever was, and Max held the utmost respect for the man.

"Shit. All I wanted to do was wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze the life out of him. I fucking should've done it, too." The words spilled out, laced with years of pent-up anger and resentment, as Max grappled with the tumultuous emotions that seeing his father had stirred within him.

"I'm glad you didn't. How are you coping?"

"Surprisingly well."

"Would the lovely Wicked Bitch have anything to do with that?"

Max stiffened. Because of what was happening with Bradley and Jax, they had kept their relationship quiet. "How do you know about Wick?"

"Ah, come now, Max. You should know by now that there is very little I don't know about my boys."

"I don't appreciate you delving into my private life, Colonel," Max said brusquely.

"Noted, but now this, Max. You are very important to me, as is everyone on the team. I will do what is necessary to protect you, and that includes anyone who becomes part of your circle of life. See me as an extension of the protection you offer the woman you love."

"That much I do appreciate, but still, I don't want Wick to be involved in any of the missions I go on. Not ever. Is that clear, Colonel?"

"As crystal. You can relax, Max. I will never put your loved ones at risk… which is also the reason for my call."

"You're calling me about Wick?" Max straightened from where he had been leaning against the railing.

"I know where you are, Max, and that she is currently meeting Bradley Gray. What you may not know is that Iceman, the mark we picked up ten years ago in Sicily, is now a mafia front boss. He has been making inquiries about you via one of their military contacts, which worries me. They might also know you and she are involved. We have confirmed intel that Iceman has been seen having dinner with Bradley Gray at Hell's Kitchen not too long ago. I need you to keep your eyes open. There are rumors in the underworld that Iceman and Gray are colluding."

"Are you saying the mafia is gunning for another financial collapse?"

"We're looking into it, but since Gray owns one of the largest and most lucrative private bank groups in the United States, we are concerned. I've just sent you a recent photo of Iceman. We had him on our radar but lost him just outside of Gulfport in Florida."

"Fuck, that's not too far from here." Max opened the message and intently studied the photo of a man he had a knife fight with during a mission in Sicily to recover a kidnapped senator five years ago. "He hasn't changed much. How long has he been in the U.S.?"

"He arrived here as an illegal immigrant five years ago after escaping from prison. Our intel confirms he immediately joined the Genolere Mafia."

"Why would he be looking into me?"

"I don't know, Max. Maybe revenge for cutting off his finger during the fight? Who knows? All I do know is that he's dangerous, so be careful and stay vigilant."

"Just find the motherfucker, Colonel. If he's after me, and he finds out Wick is involved with me, she's a dead woman."

"That's why I phoned you, Max. We'll find him. You just keep her safe."

This time, when a shiver chased down his spine, he didn't hesitate but immediately started making his way toward Bradley Gray's private owner's box.

"Motherfucker," he growled as a movement at the top of the stairs to the door drew his attention. The sight of the man, whom he had just studied in a photograph, entering the box sent a jolt of fear through Max's body, propelling him into action. With fierce determination, he began to shove and elbow his way through the dense crowd with his eyes locked on his destination.

The excitement of the spectators reached a fevered pitch as the next race began, creating a human barrier that seemed intent on thwarting Max's progress. He growled in frustration, his desperation mounting with each passing second. "Get out of the way!" he roared. It was a wasted effort since his voice was drowned out by the roar of the crowd.

With a pounding heart, he fought against the tide of bodies. His mind was consumed with images of Wick, fueling his determination to reach her.

After what felt like an eternity, Max finally broke free from the throng of spectators and sprinted up the stairs. With a powerful kick, he burst through the door.

"Wick! Where the hell are you?"

An eerie silence greeted him, broken only by the sound of his own ragged breathing.

The room was empty. There was no sign of Gray and Iceman... or Wick.