Conquer Your Love (Surrender Your Love #2)

Conquer Your Love (Surrender Your Love #2) Page 36

Half-way back to the estate, I noticed his muscles relaxing a little.

“I checked the first two numbers, and then I tried three more,” Jett finally said, breaking the silence. “They’re not bank accounts. The file we found is a dead end.”

“Maybe they’re passcodes,” Kenny suggested.

“Passcodes to what?” Jett’s frown line deepened.

Unaffected by Jett’s frostiness, Kenny leaned back into his seat and shrugged as Sylvie and I kept swapping curious glances.

“Maybe someone deliberated created confusion, so you wouldn’t find out the answer,” Kenny said. “The right combination could be linking the first three digits of the first half of the list with the last three digits of the second half. It’s just a suggestion. I doubt anyone would make this easy on you.”

“Or they could be different kind of accounts. Not necessarily bank accounts,” I chimed in.

“I can’t go back without raising suspicion,” Jett muttered. “Either you find out more, or you hack into wherever you think is necessary to give me something I can work with.”

“That was exactly my plan, bro.” Kenny opened a foil wrapper and shoved a piece of chewing gum into his mouth, before tossing the whole pack to me and Sylvie, leaving a piece near the gearshift for Jett.

Chapter 26

By the time we reached the estate, Jett’s bad mood had lifted. We walked up the stairs, when Jett pushed me behind his back and motioned Kenny to be quiet. I scanned the area anxiously and my gaze fell on the front door. It stood ajar, just a few inches, but funnily enough, my first thought was that I might have forgotten to lock it when we left.

In spite of my heartbeat spiking, my mind remained surprisingly calm. Maybe because the rain had stopped, and the sun was shining, clearing the dark clouds and making it seem surreal that someone could have broken in in the middle of the day.

Pulling out his gun, Jett instructed me to hide with Sylvie behind the bushes on the other side of the house and stay there no matter what. And then, in the blink of an eye, he and Kenny were gone.

“Come on,” I whispered to Sylvie, dragging her to the nearby bushes. We fought our way through the dense undergrowth, careful not to scratch our arms and legs. Reaching the backyard, we stooped down and I wrapped my arm around Sylvie. Our gazes remained glued to the closed balcony door and the house beyond while I listened for any sounds.

I began to count the seconds inside my head when a gunshot echoed to my right, then another, and a startled yelp escaped my lips. My heart stopped dead in my chest and I found myself leaping up and running across the open terrain around the house and through the front door—my legs shaking bad, my lips trembling with Jett’s name on them, my mind unaware of the fact that if anyone decided to shoot I was an easy target.

“Jett,” I shouted, running straight into his arms, happy to find him safe. The foyer was as silent as a tomb and Jett was alone—the realization sent a jolt of ice through my veins. “Where’s Kenny?”

“He took off after the guy.”

“Are you hurt?” I brushed my fingers over Jett’s arms and chest, checking for any wounds.

“No, but listen. I need you to stay inside, hidden. Okay?” He kissed me absentmindedly and turned to leave. I gripped his upper arm, a rather feeble attempt at stopping him. “Please, don’t go. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m not getting hurt, baby,” he whispered.

“What’s going on?” Sylvie asked, her face a ghastly shade of white.

“Kenny’s following the intruder,” I said.

Her hands moved up to her chest. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her aside. “He’ll be okay.”

For the first time I noticed the place was ransacked. Almost every drawer had been opened and the contents scattered onto the floor.

“Maybe we should lock ourselves up in the kitchen,” I whispered to Sylvie, figuring that was the only place with an escape exit through the backdoor and plenty of weapons in case we needed to defend ourselves.

We waited in the kitchen in silence until we heard footsteps departing. Ever so gently, I locked the kitchen door behind us, grabbed a big butcher-like knife from the knife rack, and motioned Sylvie to hide behind the kitchen cupboards. Forcing myself to breathe quietly, I listened for any sounds.

“Brooke?” Jett’s voice called from the hall. The strained undertones betrayed his worry.

“We’re in here,” Sylvie shouted.

My hand still clasped around the knife, I unlocked the door and opened it. Jett and Kenny were standing in the hall, their faces hard, betraying nothing. Sylvie jumped into Kenny’s arms. I was tempted to do the same with Jett, but refrained from it.

“Are you guys okay?” she asked, clinging to Kenny for dear life. “We’ve been worried sick about you. Thank God no one’s dead.”

“We’re okay,” Jett said. “We couldn’t get them though.”

Them?

I raised my eyebrows and hid my hands behind my back so he wouldn’t see the knife, or my shaking fingers. “How many are we talking about?”

“Two. One broke in; the other one waited in the car. They sped off.”

“Was it the same car that chased us?” I asked.

“I don’t think so,” Jett said. “They wore ski masks and the car had no license plate, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the same car.”

“They spoke English. Right, bro?” Kenny said to Jett. “I heard the first one yelling something. You almost hit him.”

“You shot him?” I asked Jett, horrified.

What did you expect, Stewart?

Of course I knew violence was pretty much to expect in such a situation, but the knowledge didn’t make it any easier to accept.

“I didn’t hit him,” Jett mumbled. “Unfortunately. Let’s check what they took.” I stared at Jett open-mouthed. There was something in his gaze—just a tiny flicker, but enough to show me he was hiding something and was trying hard to divert my attention from it.

“Jett, what’s wrong?” I asked, my gaze scanning his body to make sure he hadn’t been shot. “Are you hurt?” My hands brushed his arms. That’s when I noticed the tiny blood splatters on his shirt.

“It’s just a scratch,” Jett said. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve seen worse.”

My throat tightened at his words. Who would say something like that?

“How did it happen?” I pulled at his arm to force him to sit down. He flinched but didn’t move.

“Knife. I didn’t seem him and he surprised me.”

“Let me see.” Ignoring Jett’s protest, I pulled his shirt up and gasped at the two-inch wound on his torso. It was no longer bleeding and it didn’t look deep but he’d need at least proper sanitizing, if not stitches. I didn’t want his beautiful skin blemished, nor did I want him to endure any sort of pain.

“We’re going to the hospital.”

“It’s just a scratch, baby,” Jett said, pulling the shirt back down.

“We need to treat that.” I glared at him, annoyed by the determined look in his eyes.

“I said not now.” He pushed my hand away and started off down the hall toward the library.

Damn his stubbornness and unwillingness to give in.

I hurried after him and stopped in the doorway, ready to argue some more when Kenny let out a string of expletives.

“What’s wrong?” Jett asked.

Kenny pointed to Alessandro’s computer. It was still there. “Everything important is gone.”

“What do you mean by everything?” I asked slowly.

“The financial reports, Lucazzone’s papers, the book, and the disk.”

I stared at Jett open-mouthed. My vision blurred and my head felt so light, I thought I might faint on the spot. “Everything?” I whispered.

Kenny nodded.

“Fuck.” It was the second time I heard Jett swearing.

We tidied up the place so Alessandro’s household staff wouldn’t notice the break-in. As far as I could tell, except for the evidence nothing else was stolen, nothing was broken. We worked hard to make the place look like it had before. Even though every piece of evidence was gone, Jett insisted we leave. We didn’t go to bed that night. After cleaning up, he gave Sylvie and me just half an hour to pack our belongings, which turned into two hours because Sylvie had acquired too many things during her brief shopping sprees and couldn’t fit them in her suitcases.

“Do you think they’ll come back?” I asked Jett when we were alone in my guestroom, sitting on the bed, my suitcase zipped up at our feet. Jett’s arms wrapped around my waist and he pressed me against him.

“I’m not sure,” he whispered. “They have the book and they have the hard disk. They have everything they wanted. There’s nothing to come back for.”

He was avoiding my question, so I turned around and peered up at him.

“But it’s not over, is it?” I asked him. I could see it in his eyes, in the way he bit his lower lip, in the way he struggled to control the angry line between his brows.

“They have no reason to.” He averted his gaze, still not giving me a straight answer. “But it’s not safe for you to stay here. I know it’s your house. I mean it’ll be your house some day, but staying here’s not a good idea.” He took my hand and pressed his lips against the back of it. “Come back home, baby. They might have what they wanted, but I’ll feel better if you’re with me.”

“What about Alessandro? The lawyer called to say he’s in a coma.”

“We’ll figure things out. Okay? Just trust me. We’ll take the next flight, if need be. There’s no point in you staying, not when you don’t know how long it’ll take until he wakes up.”

And not when we don’t know who we’re dealing with. I was sure Jett skipped that part.

“Okay.” I let out a sigh. “I’m coming home.”

“Great. I’ll get the company plane ready.” His frown lifted a little and his hands cupped my face. His lips were so close I could feel his warm breath on my skin. “And Brooke? You are expected to start your position as the new team manager with immediate effect. I take your word you won’t let me down.”

“I’m hired?” I smiled at the way his lips grazed mine, teasing me. A sense of anticipation washed over me at the thought of spending more time with him. “I can’t wait.”

“Well, in your case, I wouldn’t be too excited. I’ve heard your new boss can be demanding.” He put on his stern face. “In fact, he likes to spend his time with his favorite female employee, having sex in the office when no one notices—not that he gives a damn about that.”

I laughed at his audacity. “I can deal with demanding.”

“And he can be annoying when he wants something. Are you sure you have what it takes?” He trailed his fingers from my ankle to my knees and then the inside of my thighs. My breath hitched.