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Authors: Gemma Hart

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              Tobias gave a half shrug, a look of mock worry on his lean face. “Well, now, I really hope you reconsider because I would hate to have to convince you to take this job,” he said.

 

              Instantly, Marco’s entire stance changed. I could tell he was preparing himself for battle. But how? We were at such a disadvantage. We had no element of surprise. We had no higher ground. We didn’t even have our weapons!

 

              I knew Marco had guns in the house but they were on the second floor. Consciously trying to make a better life for ourselves, Marco had forced himself to break his habit of always carrying a loaded weapon. It was a dangerous thing to do in the UK anyway.

 

              But now, in such a moment like this, it was to our gravest disadvantage.

 

              And with four henchmen hanging around the edges of the room, clearly itching for their moment of action, we were already set to lose. Without the element of surprise or at least some cover, there was no way Marco could take on four—five if Lestrade joined—men at once.

 

              He would be killed.

 

              Tobias uncrossed his legs. He gave Marco a level look. “The Black Saints has tapped you for a job. You and I both know that means it’s not a matter for debate. Either you can accept the job and I can lay out the plans for you here and now in a civilized manner or I can let our men
convince
you to accept our proposition.”

 

              Marco slowly shook his head. “You think I’m that slow, do you?” he demanded. “There’s no way the Black Saints would tap someone outside their ring if it wasn’t a suicide call.”

 

              Black Saints. I had never heard of this organization. Where they a mafia Family like the Desmonds? Although Tobias looked dangerous, he didn’t seem like a gangster. He seemed too above all that, despite the fact that he had four henchmen literally hanging over his shoulders.

 

              The corner of Tobias’s lips flicked up in amusement. “Well, there’s danger in any job. At least in the worlds that we move in,” he said.

 

              I watched Marco fist his hands, the veins bulging with readiness. Oh god, I hope he wasn’t about to do what I thought he was about to do. But I remembered all those hours he spent working to legitimize us. I remembered all those meals we shared with Jamie where he looked at the two of us with glowing pride, happy to know he had everything he cared for within arm’s reach. Marco had waited years for this moment and goddamn it all, he wouldn’t let it go without a fight.

 

              “Last chance, Marco,” Tobias called out. “Listen to my offer or let my men do the talking for me.”

 

              “Fuck you,” Marco bit out.

 

              Tobias gave an irritated sigh before giving his men a short nod. Immediately all four men descended upon us.

 

              Marco pressed his hand flat against my belly and shoved hard, sending me flying backwards down the hall. He blocked the living room entry with his body.

 

              “You know what you need to do,” Marco called out in an unwavering, clear voice before the first henchman threw a punch. Marco immediately ducked and threw his elbow into the man’s gut. I heard a loud wheezing sound echo down to me.

 

              I knew what I had to do. We had discussed potential danger scenarios before. If ever we were in a situation where our backs were pressed against the wall, Marco’s first goal would be to give me a shot at escaping. Then I was to text Jamie a code word to let him know danger was afoot and to double check that he was safe and hadn’t been discovered.

 

              Then, depending on the severity of the situation, there were several safe houses to run to. The ideal situation then would be Marco meeting me there.

 

              But lying on the floor of our hallway, I suddenly realized I didn’t care about any of those plans. There were four men against one. And even though I knew Marco was a trained fighter and killer, there was no way for him to take on all four in such tight quarters with no clear advantage.

 

              He could get killed and I’d be damned if I ran off on him now.

 

              I heard a grunt and then a crash as a body hit the wall. But the pained grunt sounded different than the henchman’s wheeze. I peered into the room and saw Marco leaning against a wall, his lips busted open and blood trailing down his temple. He was breathing hard as the four men closed in on him again.

 

             
Okay, Margot. Get a fucking grip! What are we going to do?

 

             
The gun! There was a gun upstairs! So far, it didn’t look like Tobias and the men were armed. If I could get the gun, we’d finally have some kind of advantage.

 

              There was another crash as a lamp went down. I heard simultaneous grunts from Marco and one of the attackers. I was losing time. I had seen how beat up Marco already looked.

 

              Scrambling to my feet, I immediately dashed towards the stairs. I’d get the gun, hide it under my coat since I was still wearing my dress from the theater and shoot the first man I could as soon as I got back downstairs. I could then take advantage of the confusion and head into the living room to hand Marco the gun. If we were going to die, we were going to die together. I wouldn’t let Marco die playing the lone hero. I wanted to be with him no matter what the end may be like.

 

              I had reached the stairs but before I could even take one step, someone yanked hard on my hair, pulling me backwards. I cried out as I lost my footing and nearly fell. But instead of falling, I fell against a hard chest.

 

              Prickling pain shot across my scalp as my hair was still trapped in a merciless grip. I angled my head up painfully against the small slack I was given and felt my heart drop as I looked up into the glittering cool green eyes of Tobias Lestrade.

             

              He must’ve followed me out of the room during the chaos of the fighting.

 

              I jerked forward, trying to pull away but Tobias gave another hard yank on my hair, pulling me closer to him. It felt like he was about to rip my hair out from the roots.

 

              An iron arm wrapped itself around my chest, imprisoning me against him. And with a strength that his lean body belied, he force-walked me towards the living room entry.

 

              With his hand still gripping my hair, Tobias called out in an almost friendly voice, “When you’re ready to listen, give me a call. I left a phone for you in the bedroom.”

 

              My heart sank. He had been all over the house already.
Of course he had, you idiot.
He had probably already found the gun. Had I actually made it up there, I would have probably found pieces of a broken gun, along with my broken hopes of survival.

 

              The men were huddled around one corner of the room. The four men were bloodied and battered. One man’s shoulder was hunched in at a funny angle that made me think it was probably broken or dislocated. Another man’s eyes were completely swollen shut and purple.

 

              But Marco looked just as bad. Crouched in the corner with his back still upright, his face was nearly covered in blood. It was hard to tell how bruised or battered he was because of the smear of blood that covered his entire face. The front of his crisp white shirt that he had worn to the theater with me was now covered in stains of red blood. I felt a small satisfaction in knowing that not all of that blood was his. But seeing how badly he was hurt, I knew that Marco had bled a fair amount himself.              

 

              My chest ached with such sharpness at seeing his battered figure, I wanted to scream.

 

              Marco’s swollen eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Tobias and me.

 

              “Let her go,” he said in a surprisingly clear voice. But I could see how much work it was taking for him to maintain the illusion of steadiness. He was exhausted and he was battered. There was a small tremor running through his body as he fought to stay upright.

 

              Tears pricked my eyes as I longed to run to him. I fought against the arm that held me but there was absolutely no give. I could’ve been fighting against a steel wall for all it mattered.              

 

              Tobias yanked against my hair again, making me cry out. I was sure that he was about to rip my scalp off. I saw Marco jerk at my cry.

 

              “Use the phone,” Tobias continued calmly as if he was talking about the weather. “Give me a call. We can talk then. Until then, consider this,” he jerked my head back and leaned in, brushing his lips against my neck, “your motivation.”

 

              Marco growled. “Motherfucker!” he roared before one of the men shoved him hard against the wall. Marco barely grimaced before he charged again.

 

              Tobias grinned. “Now the sooner you calm down, the sooner you’ll get her back,” he said. “Till then, tire yourself out. You Americans always do seem to have a flair for the dramatic.”

 

              And with that, Tobias forced us around and dragged me down the hall with him. Every squirm and wriggle against his grip was completely useless. With his arm around my chest and his hand gripping my hair still, he walked me down the hall and out of the house I had just begun to consider a home.

Chapter
Four
Halle

              “What the fuck do you thinking you are doing?” I demanded.

 

              Tobias raised a brow in amusement. “Miss Margot,” he clucked, “we’ve only just met. What a way to speak to your host.”

 

              “My
host
?” I echoed incredulously.

 

              Tobias took a calm sip of his tea in response, his green eyes never leaving me.

 

              I looked around the ornate room. It was a kind of sitting room. There was a large fireplace to one side of the room with a crackling fire that should’ve felt cheery but actually seemed quite ominous with the rippling shadows it threw across the room.

 

              There were shelves filled with large heavy books all across another wall. The furniture was all dark, shining wood with plush upholstery.

 

              Tobias sat in a large wingback chair with a small table next to him that held a piping hot teapot and two china teacups. An empty chair sat opposite him.

 

              My seat.

 

              What was odd about the room wasn’t the décor or even the person sitting in it—it was the location.

 

              As soon as Tobias had dragged me out of the house, I had been thrown into a waiting car that had taken us to the east side of London. The streets grew darker as we entered an area that seemed to hold only industrial buildings. There were only a few flickering lights scattered throughout the area, making the place look deserted and downright spooky.

 

              We pulled up to a large industrial building that had an exterior that was quite gray and worn. Some of the windows were boarded up and there was faded lettering from a previous business that was chipping off the side.

 

              Tobias had exited the car and then had come around to my side to help me out. But I had sat inside, feeling irrationally stubborn and unwilling to cooperate. At this point, I had no idea where I was and it was probably in my better interest to be a bit more malleable but I could only think about Marco’s bloody face and his determination as he pounded into the men, fighting for his freedom and for me.

 

              Tobias had stood with his hand extended and when I didn’t accept he had sighed his irritable sigh and had reached in, grabbed me roughly by my forearm, and had yanked me out with an easy strength that left me no chance to resist.

 

              “Now, if you’ll follow me,” he had said dryly as he dragged me into the building, giving me no option
but
to follow him.

 

              At the ground floor was a flickering light that cast the entire floor into a gloomy green shadow. At the opposite end was an industrial lift.

 

              Tobias and I entered the lift together. He pressed a button and the loud, cranking thing shifted as it raised us up.

 

              I could only imagine what kind of hell I was about to see. Here we were at the end of some godforsaken street, in a clearly abandoned building, with a dangerous psychopath holding me captive. I imagined something akin to dungeons.

 

              But what I saw instead when the doors opened up again was quite possibly the most well decorated lobby I had ever seen. Despite the exterior of the building, I walked out of the elevator onto marble flooring that had a large arrowhead shape topped with a halo inlaid into the ground.

 

              Directly in front of me was a gleaming circular desk with a security guard sitting there watching monitors on several screens. Above him was one of the most ornate chandeliers I had ever seen.

 

              “Hello, Mr. Lestrade. Welcome back,” the guard said politely.

 

              Tobias nodded as he dragged me along past the guard. The guard glanced over me in disinterest before returning to his screens. Clearly he was not put off or shocked by a random woman being dragged into this mysterious building against her will.

 

              The floor was filled with men who were dressed in similar sophisticated suits like Tobias’s. They all walked with an air of confidence and power as they walked out of and entered various rooms. Some of the rooms looked like dens and others looked like smoking lounges. I saw one room that looked like a conference room. And every single room was elegantly and lavishly decorated.

 

              But Tobias clearly wasn’t interested in lingering on this elegant lobby floor. Instead he took me to the end of the floor where a gleaming gold elevator stood. We entered it and he hit the button for the sixth floor.

 

              We stood in silence as we rode the beautiful elevator. Tobias still had a grip on my arm. His hand was so large, it encircled my entire upper arm. And although I was clearly in the heart of some kind of organization, he still kept a firm hold on me, as if I might bolt at any minute.

 

              Which probably wasn’t too farfetched an idea, I had to concede.

 

              The sixth floor was much different from the grand lobby. It had a refined quietness to it. The floor was richly carpeted and the walls papered in a textured elaborate design.

 

              There were only three doors on this floor.

 

              We entered the middle door and inside was the most luxurious sitting room I had ever seen.

 

              Waiting there, as if prepared for my arrival, was the tea set and the roaring fire.

 

              And that was of course when I finally spoke.

 

              “What the fuck do you thinking you are doing?”

 

              Tobias took a sip of his tea. “Why don’t you take a seat?” he said calmly. “It’s not polite to loom over people like that.”

 

              I don’t know how I could loom over someone like Tobias Lestrade. Even sitting down, he was a sizeable figure.

 

              “No,” I said sharply. “Tell me what—”

 

              “I’m sorry,” he interrupted, lowering his cup. “I have a tendency to speak in suggestions when in fact,” he pinned me with his eyes that resembled cold shards of green glass, “I am ordering.
Sit. Down.

 

              His words hit me like sharp icicles. Immediately, I took my seat.

 

              Calmly, Tobias poured me a cup of fragrant tea. With precise grace, he handed me the saucer.

 

              I took it, eyeing him warily. It felt like I was trapped in a room with a viper. I knew he could strike at any moment, leaving me unable to take my eyes off of him.

 

              “Now, let’s try that again,” he said calmly. “It’s very nice to finally meet you, Miss Margot.”

 

              I held the saucer dumbly in my hands as the steam wafted up, tempting my nose. But I had no appetite for tea. “You know who I am?” I asked.

 

              “Of course,” he answered. “That’s my job.”

 

              “You’re job,” I echoed. I shook my head. “I don’t understand. Who are you?”

 

              Tobias gave me a brilliant smile that completely transformed his face. The hard angles of his jaw and nose suddenly looked chiseled and fine. Instead of brooding, he looked alluring. His green eyes glowed.

 

              “Like I said before, I am Tobias Lestrade and I am the current Enforcer of the Black Saints.”

 

              It felt like a wave of incoherent words had just washed over me. “What?” I said, completely confused. Enforcer? Black Saints?

 

              Tobias gave an expressive shrug as he pressed his fingers together in a steepling motion. “Had you not come across the Black Saints while working under the Desmond roof?”

 

              “I—” I paused, my eyes growing big. “How did you know that?”

 

              Tobias grinned, his face alight with dark mischief. “That’s my job,” he said again. “It’s my job to know those things.”

 

              “What the hell are the Black Saints?” I demanded. As if I hadn’t had enough spying from the Desmond case, both from Roy Desmond and the FBI. Now there was some stranger who had been looking in on me as well?

 

              “The Black Saints are an organization, of sorts,” Tobias said. “It’s a collection of several of the world’s top most leading corporations and politicians gathered together under one collective seal—the Black Saints.”

 

             
Seal.
I remembered seeing that black arrowhead topped with a halo downstairs.

 

              “What does the Black Saints do?” I asked faintly, feeling an unnamable sense of dread.

 

              Tobias pursed his lips as he spread his hands wide. “Everything,” he said simply. “And nothing. We are an organization based in the shadows of society. We make the laws and govern the economy of nearly every industrialized nation.”

 

              “So what,” I said, feeling like I was in some absurd James Bond movie. “You’re part of some shadow society with presidents and princes in your back pocket.”

 

              Tobias tilted his head. “A few presidents. No princes. They aren’t worth much. We prefer prime ministers instead,” he said with a small smile.

 

              It was so ludicrous, so unreal, that I couldn’t help but believe what he was saying. After all, I had never thought I’d be a runaway fugitive on top of being a rogue FBI agent and yet, here we were.

 

              Why not this as well?

 

              “And you’re their…Enforcer?” I said, unsure what the title meant but positive it couldn’t be anything good.

 

              Tobias nodded. “Exactly,” he said. “An organization as vast and overreaching as ours with so many different interests, it’s hard to have one head, one leader. So it is a council of interested parties that speak very democratically about their needs and wants. And after those needs and wants have been decided upon, I am the one they call to execute those plans.”

 

              No wonder he had a whole floor to himself. If the Black Saints had even a handful of the people Tobias was claiming to have, that was a powerful organization indeed. And for all of those people to entrust one man to protect their identities and to fulfill their demands, that meant that that man was an extremely capable and dangerous man.

 

              “Why would the Black Saints know about me?” I asked, my voice a little hoarse. It was scary to sit in this room knowing now exactly what kind of power built these walls.

 

              “You were a part of one of the most powerful Families in America,” he said. “Had the Juarez deal been more than a sham, you would’ve been a part of
the
most powerful Family in America.” He gave a slow, sly smile. “And it’s always worthy of noting when that same person runs away with the son and heir apparent of that Family.”

 

              Wow, he had really done his homework. I suddenly felt very exposed. After all, Marco and I were in a very dangerous situation. We were under false identities while trying to live a quiet fugitive life. Any wrong tip on the scales and we could be in a disastrous mess of trouble.

 

              What would Tobias do to us? What would the Black Saints do to us?

 

              “What do you want Marco for?” The air in the room seemed stale and shallow or maybe that was just my heart racing against this sudden turn of events.

 

              Tobias took another sip of his tea. “We have a job for him. Complete the job and he and you can return to your lives of peace and comfort with no trouble from us again,” he said.

 

              I remembered what Marco had said in the house.

 

              “But the job is dangerous,” I said. It was a statement but my question rang through with each word. “He could be killed.” My voice faltered and I felt tears

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