Read Online Jigsaw (Black Raven Book 2) by Stella Barcelona - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stella Barcelona
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headquarters, and he now had a list of callers for her. In addition to her father, others also had gotten the news of the Boulevard Saint-Germain bombing. The media immediately connected the dots between the ITT’s Colombian team of prosecutors and the bombing. Those in the know had received news of Eric’s poisoning, though that info hadn’t hit media outlets. Yet.
With prior knowledge coupled with the constant intel received in the last twenty-four hours, he recognized many of the names of callers on the list. Chief U.S. Judge Theodore O’Connor—the most powerful voice on the ITT’s panel of judges. Defense Counsel Robert Brier—a forceful advocate and formidable presence in every proceeding he appeared. A few lawyers from the firm of Morgan & Associates.
Also, on the phone Samantha pretended didn’t exist, the one that she hadn’t turned over to him, he knew she’d received calls from Senator Justin McDougall—her boyfriend. Soon to be fiancé, if media speculation was accurate.
McDougall was a blue-eyed, tall, first-term U.S. senator from Massachusetts. He was one of three brothers, part of an American dynasty that was built upon oil. Each brother routinely made headlines, always with a photograph. They were that good looking. Justin’s twin, Jared McDougall, was a star NFL quarterback. The older of the three brothers ran the oil company with their father and starred in the oil company’s feel-good television commercials, wearing a hard hat, a million-dollar smile, and shaking hands with brawny roughneck oilfield workers as he persuaded the American public that McDougall Oil was the next best thing to God and country.
Given the considerable wealth and business holdings of the McDougalls, and Sam’s vast wealth as her grandfather’s only heir, high society gossips and people in the know painted their likely engagement as a pending power merger, not a marriage.
He didn’t blame Sam for holding a grudge against him, but Zeus admitted that Senator McDougall was an impediment to Sam being receptive to him. To an apology or any attempt by him to make amends for what he’d done to her. To anything. Which reinforced exactly what she’d told him in the stairwell—maybe their past really was irrelevant to today.
Beautiful. Fucking beautiful. I’ve spent seven years thinking of her, while she forgot me the moment the door shut.
The list of Sam’s callers was growing. It was time for her to have a phone, otherwise he’d end up being her goddamn personal secretary. The blow dryer was still going full steam, though, so Zeus sat on the couch, placed the first aid kit on the coffee table, and put his feet up beside it. He’d give her a few more minutes of privacy to pull herself together. Sam didn’t like anyone knowing she was vulnerable. Eric Moss’s dramatic death had clearly shaken her to the core, and if Zeus hadn’t slung her over his shoulder and gotten her out of the room, it would have been worse for her.
Cyanide.
Holy fucking hell.
Right now he could be struggling to deal with Sam’s death. It had been that fast, and that goddamn easy for someone to get to her team.
Everything on the room service cart had been contaminated with lethal doses of poison. At least Eric’s death hadn’t been bloody. If there had been blood involved, Sam would have been out for the count. Tough as she was, the sight of blood was her Achilles’ heel.
When he’d received confirmation of Moss’s death, he’d relayed the news to Sam and her team. They’d been on the first floor of the safe house, having an orientation to the reality of Black Raven-style protective detail. For a second, on hearing the grim news, Sam’s crystal-clear green eyes had shown unfiltered fear and grief. If they’d been alone, he doubted he’d have cared one goddamn bit about the steels walls that past decisions and time had erected around them. Consoling her would have come naturally and he fucking-well touched people when he
With prior knowledge coupled with the constant intel received in the last twenty-four hours, he recognized many of the names of callers on the list. Chief U.S. Judge Theodore O’Connor—the most powerful voice on the ITT’s panel of judges. Defense Counsel Robert Brier—a forceful advocate and formidable presence in every proceeding he appeared. A few lawyers from the firm of Morgan & Associates.
Also, on the phone Samantha pretended didn’t exist, the one that she hadn’t turned over to him, he knew she’d received calls from Senator Justin McDougall—her boyfriend. Soon to be fiancé, if media speculation was accurate.
McDougall was a blue-eyed, tall, first-term U.S. senator from Massachusetts. He was one of three brothers, part of an American dynasty that was built upon oil. Each brother routinely made headlines, always with a photograph. They were that good looking. Justin’s twin, Jared McDougall, was a star NFL quarterback. The older of the three brothers ran the oil company with their father and starred in the oil company’s feel-good television commercials, wearing a hard hat, a million-dollar smile, and shaking hands with brawny roughneck oilfield workers as he persuaded the American public that McDougall Oil was the next best thing to God and country.
Given the considerable wealth and business holdings of the McDougalls, and Sam’s vast wealth as her grandfather’s only heir, high society gossips and people in the know painted their likely engagement as a pending power merger, not a marriage.
He didn’t blame Sam for holding a grudge against him, but Zeus admitted that Senator McDougall was an impediment to Sam being receptive to him. To an apology or any attempt by him to make amends for what he’d done to her. To anything. Which reinforced exactly what she’d told him in the stairwell—maybe their past really was irrelevant to today.
Beautiful. Fucking beautiful. I’ve spent seven years thinking of her, while she forgot me the moment the door shut.
The list of Sam’s callers was growing. It was time for her to have a phone, otherwise he’d end up being her goddamn personal secretary. The blow dryer was still going full steam, though, so Zeus sat on the couch, placed the first aid kit on the coffee table, and put his feet up beside it. He’d give her a few more minutes of privacy to pull herself together. Sam didn’t like anyone knowing she was vulnerable. Eric Moss’s dramatic death had clearly shaken her to the core, and if Zeus hadn’t slung her over his shoulder and gotten her out of the room, it would have been worse for her.
Cyanide.
Holy fucking hell.
Right now he could be struggling to deal with Sam’s death. It had been that fast, and that goddamn easy for someone to get to her team.
Everything on the room service cart had been contaminated with lethal doses of poison. At least Eric’s death hadn’t been bloody. If there had been blood involved, Sam would have been out for the count. Tough as she was, the sight of blood was her Achilles’ heel.
When he’d received confirmation of Moss’s death, he’d relayed the news to Sam and her team. They’d been on the first floor of the safe house, having an orientation to the reality of Black Raven-style protective detail. For a second, on hearing the grim news, Sam’s crystal-clear green eyes had shown unfiltered fear and grief. If they’d been alone, he doubted he’d have cared one goddamn bit about the steels walls that past decisions and time had erected around them. Consoling her would have come naturally and he fucking-well touched people when he
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