Page 47
Story: The Maverick
As I drove home, I called the boys and briefed them about Emmanuel’s condition. Forrest agreed to examine Emmanuel and study his bloodwork.
“Do you know of an injection that can alter a person’s character or make them lose their memory?” I asked.
“You mentioned he was in the military.” Arrow was a Navy SEAL before he retired to create a wine company, which he turned into a billion-dollar enterprise. “They have research centers where they conduct experiments with mind control serums and shit like that. But I wasn’t privy to those operations.”
“That’s legal?” Remi asked.
“It’s the government,” Orion said. “They make anything legal to suit their agenda.”
“Who are the testing subjects?” Royce asked. His blonde hair looked almost white under his office lighting. He was Icelandic and owned travel excursions all around the world.
“Probably their own men and enemies,” Grayson said. I could see the sibling resemblance with Audri. “Or random people to test out their serum.”
“I see The Trogyn’s fingerprints all over this,” Remi sighed.
“What kind of fucking trainer threatens the client and injects him with toxic chemicals?” Grayson asked.
“The kind who deserves an injection of his own,” Royce commented.
“Once I have Emmanuel’s blood work, I’ll identify the components,”Forrest said.
“Want me to dig into the military research centers and see if Milton Kalkounis or Jean-Claude Dumas was there?” Orion asked.
I nodded. “That would be great. Thank you.”
When the call ended, I arrived home and escalated the wedding plan. Initially, I wanted to take Vanessa to Hawaii in a few weeks, but things had become more dangerous. Was Miltontaking advantage of a woman who didn’t have the means to protect herself from despicable men like him? I needed to solidify this marriage sooner rather than later.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
VANESSA
I walkedinto Saigon Bistro to pick up a platter of fresh shrimp spring rolls and a variety of Vietnamese subs for the gathering at Elena’s house. Each of us would bring a dish, even though she told us not to go crazy. I was too tired to cook, so I ordered from my favorite restaurant.
“It’s crazy today.” Lulu smiled. “Your order will be a few minutes late. Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I sat in the takeout and pickup area, watching customers come and go. I remembered coming in here when I was little. The shop had expanded, but it was still quaint.
Over the years, I’d seen businesses come and go. That was life; things ended so other things could begin. But Saigon Bistro was like a bamboo stalk that bent with difficulties. Even under new ownership, the food and the service remained the same.
After I got the food and secured it in the passenger seat, I pulled my car into the street. As I glanced in the rearview mirror, Attikus’s mother and sister stepped out of Saigon Bistro with brown bags. It seemed like his family enjoyed authentic Vietnamese food. As their future daughter-in-law and sister-in-law, I should attempt to get to know them. I’d invite them to the next gallery showing.
An idea occurred to me. Perhaps I could host an event at the gallery once a month—Art, Wine, and Conversation. Most art galleries kept things exclusive to art, but I wanted my gallery to be different. My heart swelled when I considered reserving a section of my gallery to sell my terrariums. My first love had always been plants. Science and art were the perfect marriage. A thrill rushed through me as terrarium ideas flooded my mind.
I’d ask the girls for their opinion tonight.
When I arrived, I parked my Honda Civic next to the luxury cars. My money was saved for my mom’s freedom and our new beginning. But a girl could dream, right? I’d love to design my car. Something simple, dependable, and functional. Maybe a cross between a Land Rover and a Rivian. A sports car wasn’t my thing. I didn’t want to be flashy and attract unnecessary attention from thieves. I needed something that could transport my large canvases and floral trees.
An image of Attikus lugging a cherry blossom to some unknown backyard flashed through my vision. Then I saw him hanging up several giant paintings on the wall of an elegant home. I smiled at the ridiculous thought. He wouldn’t be with me long enough to do those things as my fake husband.
I carried the box of food andwalked by an area with wide windows that showed the men sitting at a table. Attikus turned and met my eyes. Surprise splashed across his handsome face. I smiled at him, walked to the front door, and pressed the doorbell.
The door swung open, and Attikus greeted me. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I said.
Nerves sprung to life, scattering everywhere. My insides shifted like watercolors dripping slowly over the canvas of mystomach. The kiss at my apartment flashed into my mind, and provocative dreams heated my body.
What the hell?I had to stop this.
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