Stillman and let him know you’ll be in Paris tomorrow. Watch your back and don’t trust anyone. Stillman’s a desperate man, and desperate men play desperate games.”
“A desert scorpion doesn’t curl up and die when he’s cornered.” Ash grinned. “He just gets meaner.”
Merrick’s serious expression softened and a hint of a smile tickled his gray mustache. “Use the past, and whatever else you’ve learned here at Onyxx to keep breathing. And if you need anything, call. Stillman might believe you’re his new trigger boy, but you’re just on loan.”
Ash stood and extended his hand. “You’re a straight shooter, Merrick. I’ve always respected that. Whatever happens, know that I’m grateful for what you did for me and my family.”
Chapter 2
“The men in this screwed-up world are always going to run it, baby doll. No sense fighting what you can’t change. But a woman can survive if she can cash in on a man’s weaknesses. He’s got two, his belly and what dangles between his legs. So learn how to cook, and how to ride a man with confidence. Take it from your mama, the bills don’t get paid going to church and keeping your legs crossed. That was a joke, baby doll. Crossed…get it?”
A smile surfaced on Allegra’s face. For months she had been struggling to remember pieces of the past. But Bonnie had never left her.
Her mother had found a way to survive in a world that had dealt her a going-broke hand. Allegra had been six when her father had left them. He was a selfish man who never should have had a family.
The bitter truth had turned Bonnie against men, but it hadn’t stopped her from using them to pay the bills. When Allegra turned sixteen, a fancy-dressed lawyer paid her a visit the morning after her mother died. It was then she had come to realize just how much her mother had sacrificed—Mama’s will allowed her to be buried in style, with enough left over for Allegra to go to college.
The trip up the coast had all been about Bonnie’s wisdom. Allegra had been conditioned to survive. It had been how she’d lived all her life.
That’s why she’d seen to the cooking over the past four days and focused on Filip’s belly. What dangled between his legs, however, hadn’t been addressed yet. Filip had made no attempt to touch his woman. He hadn’t taken her to his bed, or come to hers.
Although she would have been as flawless and efficient in bed as she was in the kitchen—thanks to Bonnie’s education—Allegra felt relieved that she hadn’t been put to that test. Not yet anyway.
The morning of the fifth day they reached Zadar on the coast of Croatia. They had sailed into port before noon, and immediately come ashore. Filip took her shopping to buy her a coat—he said it was snowing in Budapest.
It was the first time he’d mentioned where they were going.
By late afternoon they’d arrived at a secluded airstrip, and minutes later they had boarded a plane and it had taken off.
“If anyone asks who you are, you will tell them you’re my woman.”
Filip had left Lazlo and Matyash to come and sit next to her. Allegra had been staring out the window. She turned to look at him. “Am I your woman?”
“I have no need for a woman.”
“Then why are we playing this game?”
“You don’t want my protection?”
“I’d just like to know why you’re giving it.”
“Call it a gift.”
“You’re not known to be a gift giver.”
“A woman who speaks her mind, and is not afraid of me…” His eyes searched hers. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in the company of such a strong woman. No wonder he chose you.”
“You know?”
“Why you were at Nescosto? Of course.”
“Can you tell me? Yurii never shared details. He said I’d know the extent of the mission when the time came.”
“There is no reason to alter that. For now you are my woman. That is the only game you need to concentrate on.”
He pulled a gun from his pocket and handed it to her and Allegra took it. The small-caliber Beretta Tomcat wasn’t a favorite of hers, but right now having a weapon of any kind made her feel better.
She slipped it in her coat pocket as he leaned close and whispered, “I’m told that you can hit anything you aim at. Even wearing a blindfold in a blackout. But that’s just one of your talents. Cyrus says he’s never seen a woman as resilient as you.”
“You clean up well, Mr. Kelly. You no longer look like an alley rat living in the bottom of a Dumpster.”
Ash let the comment roll off his back. A haircut and new clothes didn’t change a man, but he was curious as to why it had been on the top of Stillman’s list once he’d arrived in Paris.
He’d flown in yesterday afternoon, and as he’d entered Stillman’s office at the SDECE, the man had been wearing a grin as wide as the Atlantic. Stillman had given him a list of errands to attend to before morning—a haircut and new clothes. A facial and manicure—he’d never had either in his life.
He relaxed into the backseat next to Stillman as their driver changed lanes and picked up speed.
“For this mission you’re going to have to return to your old life, Mr. Kelly. Or should I say, Señor Toriago?”
Toriago…
Sonofabitch. Stillman knew his true identity.
Ash refused to let the sick feeling in his gut surface on his face. A weaker man would have surrendered to the noose that had just been placed around his neck, but a weak man was a dead man. He wasn’t afraid to die—had never been afraid—but Stillman’s announcement threatened something more precious than his own life. If he knew Ash Kelly was Marco Toriago, then there was a good chance he also knew the truth about his family.
He said, “Ash Kelly agreed to work for the SDECE. Not Marco Toriago. He died eight years ago.”
“Yes, I know how the story goes. You died in a Mexican prison along with your father. We both know that fabrication was the handiwork of Adolf Merrick. The legacy your father left behind is ready to be reborn, and with it, you, twice as disreputable as you were in the old days. At the moment I have no need for the Ashtray, but I do have need for his notorious counterpart.”
“This isn’t what I agreed to.”
“You agreed to work for me in whatever capacity I require. You agreed to that to save Onyxx. A loyal gesture. Does that mean Marco Toriago has grown a conscience?”
“I said, he’s dead.”
“I hope not, for your sake and your family’s. I am curious how Merrick managed it, though. The head of a famous drug cartel’s son turned special agent. What did he promise you? Refuge for your family? New identities? Freedom and a happy ending for all if you sold your soul to him?”
“My family isn’t a part of this.”
Ash had meant to keep his voice even, but he’d failed, and like the snake he was, Stillman struck quickly.
“On the contrary, I’d say that your family has been the driving force behind everything you’ve done since Merrick pulled you out of that ghetto prison. Now then, let’s get down to business. Your plane leaves within the hour for Budapest.”
“What’s in Budapest?”
“It’s where an important delivery is about to take place. One you are going to intercept. The courier is Filip Petrov, and Casso Salavich is his destination. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. He’s an untouchable who has his fingers in more dirty deals than we can count.”