“What about Zoran’s son, Nikola? He’s only ten. We should have eyes on him. With Zoran back from the dead, or you know, out of hiding, it stands to reason he’ll want to be with his son.” As the only parent on the team, Jesse wasn’t surprised it was Sydney to raise that point. “He was pulled from his boarding school when his parents were shot, and he’s been living with his godparent, Zoran’s brother.”
Gray looked at Sydney, his gaze always a bit more intense whenever he watched her. “I suspect the CIA or Bulgarian Intelligence already has eyes on the son and uncle, but we should as well.”
Sydney focused on her screen. “They’re in Hallstatt, a small town in Austria.”
“Was the uncle involved in the family business with Zoran before the hit?” Jesse asked. “I’ve never been all that privy to the details about my marks. I just handled the, uh, elimination.”
“Zoran’s brother moved to Hallstatt once he became guardian,” Sydney began, “but he may have been given orders to lie low and protect Zoran’s son until further notice. I would assume he had to be somewhat involved in the operation.”
“Usually, criminal enterprises like that are family-oriented,” Carter said. “So, we’ll check it out. But from what I can tell, he wasn’t Zoran’s right-hand man, and that person is rumored to be running things in Zoran’s absence from a new location. We’re working to find him as well.”
“I doubt Zoran would risk going to his brother’s place for his son until he’s handled his mission of revenge,” Jack said. “He has to know he’d be walking into a trap if he went for his son now.”
“True, but I’ll send some of my guys who are already in Europe to Hallstatt just in case,” Carter agreed. “And where are we at with the background check into the Rochella family?”
Jesse focused on Griffin when he began sharing his research into the Rochellas. His thoughts momentarily drifted back to Ella’s studio, remembering the way Henry Rochella had looked at Ella yesterday.
He had a feeling if Ella hadn’t announced she was getting married, the billionaire planned to hit on her in Paris. Doesn’t mean he still won’t, he reminded himself, which meant he needed to keep an eye on that man for more than one reason.
“So, no red flags?” Jesse asked upon a sigh after Griffin had finished his report on the Rochellas.
“I need more time to say for sure, but it doesn’t look that way,” Griffin responded with a firm nod, then Griffin’s attention shifted to Savanna on approach from the hallway.
“Jesse, can I steal you for a moment?” Savanna crooked her finger and angled her head, beckoning him to join her.
Knowing she’d been with Ella and now needed to talk to him had his heartbeat ramping up as he walked through the open doorway to meet her where she hung back in the hall. “She okay?”
Savanna looked toward the guest room. “I think you should go in there. She’s, um, not okay.”
Jesse hung his head and brought his hands to his hips. “Does she want me to?”
“You should go in there regardless.” When Savanna placed her hand on his chest, he looked up and nodded.
“Okay.” He waited for Savanna to leave, then walked past the room Chris and Rory had been staying in and to the last bedroom in the hall, opposite the master.
He hadn’t slept at all last night. How could he with everything going on? But also, knowing Ella was just a few steps across the hall had him pacing the length of his room. He’d braced his hands on the frame of the bedroom door, fighting the urge to go to her last night.
Jesse tested the knob to see if it was unlocked, then slowly opened the door. Ella was in bed beneath the plush white comforter, but her iPad was propped up next to her. He hadn’t anticipated she’d be watching a movie.
Leaning against the doorframe, he folded his arms and studied her as she ignored him for at least a good sixty seconds, knowing damn well he was there. “Shouldn’t you be picking out flowers or bridesmaid dresses or something? Selling the idea of a real wedding to your mom before she gets suspicious?”
Ella paused her movie and sat up, clutching the comforter to her chest. Had she changed into something too revealing?
He remembered the nightshirt she’d had back in New York before she’d tossed it to give him an eyeful of her luscious breasts. And if she was wearing anything remotely similar now, he was screwed.
A.J.’s in the kitchen, he chanted to himself to keep from going in, hauling her into his arms, and doing all the wicked things that were currently working through his mind.
“Why would I care about a bogus wedding?” She brushed her fingers through her sexy bed-head hair with one hand while maintaining a death grip on the comforter with the other.
“The wedding was your idea, darling. We can call it off. So long as you tell your parents after I get the hell out of Dodge, so your dad doesn’t take his shotgun to me.”
He’d hoped for a smile, but instead, the frown damn near devastated him. It wasn’t the best idea, but he decided to go inside and shut the door behind him.
“Don’t call me darling,” was the response she’d gone for instead of acknowledging the rest of his comment. Maybe she was okay with her dad using his shotgun on Jesse. “Don’t call me anything, in fact. I don’t know you, and maybe you don’t know the real me either.”
Jesse scoffed. “Bullshit. And you know it.” He rounded the queen-sized bed and stood off to the side, keeping his eyes steady on her, noticing the way the comforter kept rising and falling in time with her deep breaths. “I know everything about you.”
“Well, I’m trying to learn more about you.” Her gaze flicked to the iPad. “You’re not exactly an open book, and I expect you’ll keep your trap shut. Like always.”
“What are you talking about?” He set a hand to the bed for support and leaned over her, side-eyeing her as he did so to see what she was watching.
She remained nearly ramrod straight on the bed beneath him, her head falling back to the pillow with him so close.
And then she gently shoved at his chest. “Too close for comfort, buddy.”
Buddy, huh? He pushed himself upright and stepped away from the bed.
“I googled assassin movies. I’ve been alternating between Denzel and Keanu flicks. Denzel counts out the seconds he’ll need to take a life before he kills someone in the movie I just watched. You did that back at the club in New York before you knocked that guy out in the bathroom, didn’t you?” She was rambling and talking too fast for him to follow it all. “Keanu’s character wasn’t CIA, but still . . . assassin, so.”
“Movies aren’t reality. Not my reality, at least,” he spoke up once it was clear she wasn’t finishing her sentence. “I’m not like the guys in either of those films.”
“Have you seen them? How do you know?” she quickly remarked.
“Of course I’ve seen them. And no, I’m not like them.” Okay, maybe a little more like Denzel’s character, sure. But Keanu’s? No.
“Why’d you join? Why’d you leave the Army to work for the CIA as a hitman?”