Surrender (The Command Series Book 3) (22 page)

Vitale’s phone rang, the ringtone a piece of classical music Ethan didn’t recognize. The more time he spent with the head of the Abramo family, the more Ethan realized what a pretentious piece of shit he was. Spoiled like Gio, but smarter. He was cautious and kept Ethan at a distance. Part of it was due to the fact that Ethan was American, and Vitale had no problem reminding him how little he thought of Ethan’s nationality.

But you didn’t get to be the head of the most dangerous mafia in Italy, and smuggle arms to terrorist groups, by being lucky. Ethan had to work harder than ever before at being invisible and gathering information.

It was a Friday morning when the break finally came. Gio had hurried into Vitale’s home office, and Ethan had been ordered from the room. He’d gone down to Vitale’s kitchen and drank a cup of coffee at the table, watching the staff prepare breakfast. To the cooks, it must have looked like Ethan was engrossed in a phone call, but the truth was he was listening to the bug he’d planted in the office not ten minutes before.

“There’s a problem with Castillo,” Gio said. “Somehow he found out the shipment’s going to Markovic, and now he’s demanding twice as much money.”

There was a lengthy pause before Vitale spoke. Perhaps he considered his next move. “Find out who leaked that to Castillo, and bring them here.” A chair creaked, and Ethan imagined Vitale standing behind his enormous desk. “There’s been a downward slide in attitude about how powerful this family is, and I’d like to use this as an opportunity to correct it. If my response doesn’t get Castillo to honor our original arrangement, we’ll find another way. A messier one that I’m sure Carlo will enjoy.”

Carlo, Gio’s regular bodyguard, was little more than a monster in human flesh. A sadist who enjoyed watching pain and misery, and his only goal seemed to be pleasing the Abramos. They sure did love their lapdogs.

There was no need to call Daniel or Hendrix and alert them about the conversation in the office. They had access to the recording device because it was relaying through Ethan’s phone. The keyword Vitale uttered had been
Markovic
, a Serbian crime boss with ties to the terrorist cell, and by now there was sure to be a flurry of activity in the operations room in his field office.

Finally, his shitty luck on ops was coming to an end. Hell, the whole op was coming to an end. The name Castillo was new, but Ethan had strong suspicions who it was, and he was going to enjoy confirming it very much.

The first few days in Munich weren’t so bad, and once Olivia started flying co-pilot for Osterhägen’s secondary crew, she was too busy to think about Ethan. Well, too busy to spend every moment thinking about him. Osterhägen supplied her with a flat, a nice one-bedroom loft over a bakery that smelled amazing and threatened to make her fat.

She hadn’t heard a word from Ethan since he’d fled her hotel room. His radio silence had an unwanted magnifying effect on her thoughts about him. Even though he seemed able to handle himself with the Abramos, she worried.

Olivia had avoided it long enough. One evening on her subway ride back to her loft, she called her father and simply told him that she’d taken a new job with Osterhägen. It sounded like a promotion to be working for a huge name brand, even though she was no longer captain. Her father spent the majority of the conversation talking about Rob anyway. Her older brother had just made Staff Sergeant, and her father’s pride overflowed in his words. Good for him, she thought. Rob was an aggressive pain in the ass, but he was a born leader.

After the call was over, she stared at the phone.
Soon
, Ethan had said. It had been eons since, and no communication. When would whatever he was doing with the Abramos be over?

Then the phone rang.
Unfinished, Business.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“Yes. Everything’s fine. But I need a favor.”

She closed her eyes so she could concentrate on his voice. “What do you need?”

“I’m sending you a picture. Can you confirm this is the man Vitale met with? The one you overheard talking about shipments and containers? The picture should come through any second. It’s not great, but it’s all we’ve got right now.”

There was a chime on the phone, and she pulled it away from her ear. On the screen was a black and white shot, like surveillance. “Yes,” she said into the phone. “That looks like him.”

“Good.” There was a pause and she swore she heard his breathing pick up. “Now I need another favor.”

“Okay, but you don’t need to ask. I’m all for helping you with—”

“Go to Shawn and Kara’s wedding.”

The train rocked and she latched her hand onto one of the hanging straps. “What? You told me to stay away from them.”

“The Abramos aren’t interested in the Dunns anymore, and by this time tomorrow, they’ll have their hands full anyway. Trust me, it’s safe.”

Her brain spun. Go to their wedding? She didn’t even know them. These were Ethan’s friends, not hers. “I’m not invited.”

“I’ll call Jason and get him to give you my invitation.”

“Why?”

He sighed. “Because I can’t go. I don’t know how long it’s going to take to tie everything up here, but honestly, I wish I could. I’d like them to know that. And I was hoping you could tell me about it, next time we see each other.”

“Which is when, exactly?”

She pictured his intense gaze and shivered with anticipation. “Soon.”

It was early evening when the town car carrying Olivia and her invitation sped away from the city, delving into the dense forest that surrounded Munich. The phone in her matching red clutch teased her, but instead her busy hands worried the edge of the invitation that would give her access to the ceremony. She wanted to know everything about Ethan, and since he was no help, she’d glean what information she could from his friends.

The town car dropped her off at a farm field that had become a parking lot of luxury automobiles. Boards, covered with black carpet, formed a path up to the security checkpoint, probably done so that the ladies wearing heels wouldn’t sink into the mud. The checkpoint was staffed with four serious-looking men, all wearing suits and earpieces, and probably guns beneath their jackets. Her invitation was scanned, her purse checked, and then she was wanded with a handheld metal detector. The group of people in line behind her didn’t seem to think anything of it. The brewery had been bombed, and tonight’s bride kidnapped at the last major event Shawn had held.

Olivia rode up front with the driver in a golf cart, bouncing along the grassy field as she was shuttled toward a sprawling, wood-timbered mansion in the distance. Jason’s home was a gorgeous, Bavarian chalet nestled between ancient trees. The golf cart whipped around the side of the home, passing another cart headed back out, and then pulled to a stop on a stone patio where a woman in a black business suit stood.

The woman directed them to follow the path to the ceremony seating. First in German, then English, then other languages that Ethan would probably know but Olivia did not. The red heels Kara’s assistant had sent over last minute carried Olivia’s unsure feet across the stones. Quite a crowd had already gathered, and the buzz of conversation was loud and jovial. Part of that could have been due to the silver trays of Osterhägen beer and flutes of champagne that were circulating.

It was ridiculous, but she scanned the crowd for the six and a half foot tall man. But he wasn’t there, and she knew that. Was he thinking about her as often as she was thinking about him?

The backyard rock garden was clogged with rows and rows of chairs, separated by an aisle up to a flowered pergola, draped with white fabric as the backdrop. And closer to the house, beneath strings of dock lights, elegant tables were covered in white cloths and adorned with red flowers, circling a small dance floor that had been brought in.

She’d finished her first flute of champagne when Jason appeared from inside the house, and the crowd of a hundred or so began to quiet and take their seats. The younger Dunn brother’s hulking form was garbed in a tux, and once again, the clothing fit him perfectly—but looked wrong. Like polished leather shoes with workout clothes.

Behind him, the groom seemed like he’d been born in a tuxedo, wearing black tie with the same ease as one of his custom-made suits. Some of the women around Olivia straightened at the mere sight of Shawn, made even more attractive because of what was about to happen. A commitment to the woman he loved. There was a power in the air, clinging all around. Power and love.

Olivia’s gaze, along with everyone else’s, followed the groom as he went to stand at the front, nodding hello to guests as he trailed behind Jason. The string quartet in the corner began to play, and at the back of the aisle, a woman in a black dress stepped forward, clutching a bouquet of red roses. Light brown hair was pulled up and set at the crown of her head, so her big, blue eyes were striking. The ballerina from the picture, although now a brunette.

Laurel was girl-next-door-pretty and she moved with a dancer’s grace down the aisle toward her husband and brother-in-law. When she reached the end of the aisle, she turned and looked back, waiting for her sister to make an entrance.

Which Kara did. The white dress was elegant and sophisticated, finding that perfect balance between classy and sexy. The lace on the bodice parted so it could plunge deep in the front, revealing her slender neck and just the right amount of cleavage. Then, the lace gave way at the waist to silk that looked like liquid, pouring over her curves.

While everyone was focused on Kara, Olivia snuck a glance back at Shawn. Seeing his reaction to his bride made Olivia’s goddamn knees
weak
. For a moment his eyes clouded and then it was blinked away, but the emotion remained on his face. Unabashed love. Uncomfortable feelings welled up in Olivia’s chest. Coming to this wedding was a really bad idea. This evening would have side effects. Was this part of Ethan’s plan?

The ceremony was short, but Shawn’s kiss at the conclusion was less so. A few people chuckled while others raised eyebrows, and when he finally let his new wife come up for air, her face flushed to match the flowers she carried.

Olivia had to get out of there. Halfway through dinner, seated at a table with everyone twice her age, she began to plot how she was going to escape. The other guests were family, friends, or business contacts, and although they were welcoming to her, it was lonely. She could offer her congratulations to the newlyweds and then slip away as soon as the meal was over. She’d rather be lonely at her apartment, instead of lonely around all these people who were in love.

Dinner ended and she rose swiftly, working her way closer to the bride and groom to position herself for the goodbye, but a wall of black wool stepped in front of her. Jason. His pretty wife was beside him, her blue eyes curious, and a baby in her arms.

“Thanks for coming,” Jason said. “This is my wife, L, and our son, Thomas.”

The brunette gave a bright smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” Olivia glanced at the baby in Laurel’s arms who fussed quietly. Most babies were cute, and this one was no exception.

Music filled the garden—a slow, sultry song about love. Shawn led his wife onto the dance floor and couples began to pair up, drifting to join them. Olivia’s stomach bottomed out.

“You can’t dance with me,” Laurel said to her husband while the baby squirmed. “I’ve got to feed him.” Jason looked relieved at the idea of not having to dance, until Laurel gestured to Olivia.