21. Emmett

Chapter 21

Emmett

I leaned against the stone half-wall at the garden’s edge, overlooking the Port Hercule yacht club. Normally, I’d admire the display of wealth below me—million-dollar yachts crammed in between multi-million-dollar yachts—but I couldn’t rip my focus from the tracker app on my phone. Watching. The little dot representing Jenn had left the gallery, heading for the marina.

“What’s she doing?” I muttered, inadvertently using my outside voice again.

“Visiting Massimo’s yacht?” Drew’s tone was maddeningly reasonable. He barely knew Jenn, so maybe I could excuse it, but he was in work mode. Observe. Orient. Decide. Act.

“Where else would they be going?” I glowered at him, which he ignored.

Drew shrugged, his posture relaxed in a way that only pissed me off more. “Monaco’s not very big, but there are a lot of yachts.”

“Where is it?” I held my phone so he could see the map. “You were there last night.”

Drew barely glanced at the phone. “I can’t see her, but the GPS looks like they’re heading in the right direction.”

I splayed my fingers on the stone in front of me, the rough surface almost enough to anchor me in the present. Was this payback for last night? For this morning? The memory of Jenn in my arms, her lips so close to mine, flashed through my mind. I’d wanted to kiss her so fucking badly. But I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. No matter how much I?—

“What’s the story between you two?”

“What?” I snapped. Get control. I forced my voice to soften. “Nothing. There’s no story.”

“I doubt that.” Drew’s eyebrows rose, his expression skeptical. “For someone who claims to be just friends, you’re awfully worked up about who she spends time with.”

“It’s not about that. Dante’s father is a criminal. They’re mixed up with Fenix. What if… what if Enzo’s on the yacht?”

The name alone sent a chill down my spine, memories of my captivity threatening to surface. I pushed them down, focusing on the present danger.

“I understand your concern, but I don’t believe it’s the only reason you’re glaring at your phone.”

I opened my mouth to argue, then thought better of it. I wasn’t going to fool Drew. Instead, I changed the subject—to one only slightly less awkward. “Tell me more about the intel on my mother. You said an old colleague remembered her from MI6?”

Drew leaned his hands on the half-wall, not taking his eyes off the marina. “You don’t need details about my source, but suffice to say he worked with Evelyn in the late eighties, before she left the service. She went by Evelyn Stone back then.”

“Stone?” My mother had been the one to give us our aliases, so it must have been linked. “Her maiden name is McCall. Are you sure it’s the right person?”

“He recognized her photo. You didn’t ask me to dig deeper, but I can.”

“No.” We’d eventually talk to her about it. Or get Brie to do the research. “You trust this guy?”

“He’s solid. No reason to lie about it.”

“I don’t understand.” The blip on my phone slowed on the other side of the marina. Were they at Massimo’s yacht now? “Why would she hide it? Why not tell us the truth?”

“Occupational hazard.” Drew shrugged. “When I was in the Agency, I told everyone I was a general government worker. My fiancée at the time figured it out before I told her. Any signs you might have missed with your mother?”

I thought back, memories flooding in. Mum teaching me to pick locks when I was twelve, calling it a valuable life skill . Showing me how to read micro-expressions and body language. All those lessons on controlling my emotions, masking my tells. “Somehow, I think we all knew.”

“Denial?”

I let out a long sigh, my gaze climbing from my phone. “Scarlett always said Mum was overprotective after everything with Dad.”

Drew nodded. “Maybe she gave you the normalcy you needed?”

“Normalcy?” She’d shown my sisters and me how to track people, earn their trust, and get their information. How to hot-wire cars, navigate unfamiliar terrain, and that you always needed an exit strategy. “But with all the secrets we’ve proven we can keep, why wouldn’t she say anything? Why stick to the accountant cover story all these years?”

“Probably started with her thinking you were too young to know. At some point, it would have felt too late to tell the truth.”

“The truth…” Not a Reynolds specialty. “What’s it like? Being CIA, unable to tell anyone in your life what you really do?”

“Honestly? I didn’t have family, and almost all my friends were in the business. My fiancée was the exception, but—” Drew’s jaw tightened, and he leaned more onto the half-wall. “—you know what a shitshow that was.”

His former fiancée had gotten tangled up in our job in Washington, which led us to Monaco. And shitshow was a good word for all of it.

“That’s why we keep Jenn in the dark about Reynolds. And the rest of Scarlett’s close friends.” We wanted to keep them safe.

But as for my friends? Outside of my co-workers, I didn’t have the sort of close circle Scarlett did. When I was a teen, I got into too many fights over other kids taunting me about my father. Rav and Declan had sometimes helped when people targeted Scarlett or Brie, but mostly, I’d been on my own.

“How did I miss it for so long?” My mother had taught me how to avoid the fights and how to defend myself. When I’d asked how she was so good at those things, she’d said it was from movies. “Looking back now, it seems so obvious.”

“I’ve been thinking…” Drew hesitated, finally looking at me. “Your dad worked for CSIS before the Russia incident, right? I suspect there’s more to their story than you know.”

I stared at him. “How did you know about Dad’s CSIS connection?”

Drew frowned, dipping his head, as though surprised—not by the question, but that I’d bothered to ask it. “You think I’d work with your team without doing my homework? We uncovered that tidbit prior to my first contract with Reynolds.”

Footsteps approached from behind us. As we turned, Will smiled and extended a hand toward Drew. As they shook hands, Will said, “Nice to meet you.”

Drew gave Will a quick once-over. He’d only been with us officially for two weeks, although he’d been a constant fixture with the team since the June contract in Washington, so the two men were familiar with each other. “I’m interested to see what you’ve brought.”

“He’ll hate it.” Will grinned at me while pulling a sleek watch box from his backpack. His accent had grown steadily thicker since he’d moved to London, and the smile deepened lines around his eyes that made him look like he’d aged ten years. His mother had declined quickly after his father’s death, and Will had taken the brunt of it.

I accepted the box and opened it, revealing a stunning timepiece inside. The polished metal gleamed in the sunlight. I shook my head ruefully, thickening the tone of faux disappointment. “The modified Patek you made me is already so perfect. I can’t believe you’re making me switch.”

Will held up his hands. “Not forcing anything. It’s just the prototype I had ready. Give me a few weeks, and I can fit the new tech into your usual watch if you prefer.”

Drew tsked at us. “More money down the drain.”

In truth, I had a sizable watch collection and wouldn’t complain about anything Will provided. But I took a swipe at Drew, all the same. “Don’t spies all wear Rolexes for easy bribes?”

He frowned. “Cash is more portable.”

“True. I also have a prototype tracker we can attach to a piece of paper money. However, I haven’t figured out how to incorporate full comms into something so thin.” Will pulled out another small box. “I thought about using something like that for Jenn, but the risk of her misplacing whatever we attached it to was too high. Scarlett and I discussed it—I was originally planning something based on Brie’s preferences, but Scarlett overruled everything I suggested.”

“Smart move,” I said. “Brie’s not your typical jewelry wearer.”

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Will’s mouth, his voice growing almost wistful. “Yeah, I didn’t think Jenn would appreciate a habit-tracker ring or a necklace pendant she could fiddle with incessantly.”

The note of fondness in his voice almost had me pushing for more. I’d half expected something romantic to develop between him and my younger sister over the years, but it never had—both regularly dated other people.

I filed the thought away for later and opened the box Will had handed me, revealing a delicate gold bracelet. Nothing too flashy or attention-grabbing, but a motif resembling screws dotted its surface. And it came with a gold screwdriver to ensure it stayed on. “You’re kidding me.”

“What?” Will asked, sliding his backpack on again.

“This is a Cartier Love bracelet.” The iconic design was unmistakable. How could I give this to Jenn?

“Scarlett came up with the idea a few months ago, so I’d had this prototype almost ready.” Will tapped the screwdriver in the box. “It’s discreet, and the screw closure means no one takes it off.”

It made sense. Neither Jenn nor a security guard—nor a kidnapper—would bother with it because it was too difficult to discard. But still. I was going to give Jenn a Love bracelet?

“Sorry, but it’s what I had.” Will shrugged.

Fuck me. After everything that happened last night—how clear she’d been about wanting more from me—telling her the truth might have been less risky than giving her something like this.

“I finished both of those on the flight.” Will lowered his voice. “The scarab decoy should be done tonight, so long as I can get several uninterrupted hours of work.”

Closing the box, I sighed. The bracelet would help keep Jenn safe, so I couldn’t argue against it. “Have you checked into the hotel yet?”

“I left my bags with the concierge on my way over. Checking in is my next stop.”

Mine should have been to the training facility Jayce was at—a large office space with high ceilings that we’d rented for preparations. But could I leave my vantage point? I was close enough to Jenn I could do something if she was in trouble. Going to the office would leave her exposed.

And I’d sworn to keep her safe.