Page 111 of A Knight’s Revenge: The Complete Series

CHAPTER TWENTY

JOLIE

“ M r. Ferrero,” the doorman sputtered at Zach, “we, uh… we weren’t expecting you.”

Zach’s cocky grin conveyed exactly how much he didn’t give a fuck. “Well, I certainly couldn’t miss a gala in honor of Ferrero’s favorite charities and my mom’s fiftieth birthday, now could I?”

The poor asshole checking IDs at the entrance to Ferrero Tower’s largest and most opulent ballroom was now sweating in his ill-fitting tuxedo.

He stared at Zach again in confusion, his eyes bouncing over to me and widening in actual terror before he finally lifted his walkie-talkie to his face. “Um, I have the Ferrero Heir and his….”

“Girlfriend,” Zach prompted.

“… girlfriend here requesting entrance to the gala.”

I nodded to his walkie. “Inform the head of security we’re unarmed.”

“But that we are happy to make a giant scene in front of the small sliver of the City’s elite still willing to associate with Ferrero by being here tonight if we’re made to wait much longer,” Zach added lightly.

The man did as he was told, and we were instructed to await a more “thorough inspection.”

Zach looked devilishly sexy tonight in his all-black tuxedo, while I’d donned a flowy mauve chiffon gown with a sweetheart neckline that dipped low across my modest cleavage.

I swatted Zach’s wandering hand away from the high slit in my skirt as we waited to be frisked by whoever had the unfortunate designation of heading up the paltry security Andrea was able to throw together for this event.

Noah’s voice sounded in the microscopic earpieces we both wore. “Knight Three and Knight Four are about to drop. Do you think you’ll have problems at the door?”

“Nah,” Zach replied. “My mom will want to see me, despite everything, and she would detest a public scene.”

“Let me know when the guys hit the roof, please,” I whispered, attempting to keep my emotions in check.

I was focused on playing my part here—I was the distraction—but it didn’t change the fact that Bennett and Max were about to drop from a moving helicopter onto the tower’s roof. That unnerved me just a bit.

Max’s voice came through next. “Five minutes. Stow that worry I heard in your voice, Jojo. Big Man and I have this in the bag.”

I heard Bennett grunt before Noah muttered, “I’m still pissed you guys left me in Silver’s command center…

. Hey, you two, stop fucking bickering….

Silver, you know we put Marcus on lead tonight because it’s a Ferrero job…

. Oh my God, what am I, your mom? Quit tattling to me. Lock it up, both of you.”

I smothered a laugh as Zach and I watched a fresh-faced Ferrero Enforcer approach the door from inside the ballroom. I whispered, “And I thought Zepp was a pain in my ass.”

The nervous doorman moved aside, and the Enforcer stepped into the lobby where we waited. He eyed Zach and me with extreme distrust.

“Mrs. Ferrero has graciously agreed to allow her Heir and his date to attend this evening, but you’ll have to be searched.”

Zach shot him an innocent smile. “I’m happy to receive a pat down, but if you put one slimy hand on my girl, I’ll break it.”

“Mr. Ferrero?—”

I stepped forward and did a little twirl. “See? Nowhere to hide any weapons in this flimsy dress.” I giggled like an airhead, though I doubted he bought it.

The Enforcer glared at me before approaching Zach and frisking him from head to toe.

Finding nothing, he straightened and looked me over.

His scrutinizing gaze lingered a little too long on my boobs before Zach growled menacingly at him.

“You done, man? I’d like to get a drink in my hand before I’m fucking thirty. ”

The Enforcer motioned to the door. “We’ll have eyes on both of you all night. Don’t try anything.”

“Thanks!” I said brightly, then I grabbed Zach’s hand and flounced into the ballroom like I didn’t have a care in the world.

Something I did have, however, was a tiny knife in the bra cup of my dress. I could never go anywhere truly unarmed, and it was my security blanket.

“Knight Three and Knight Four have landed,” Noah said softly.

Bennett’s deep voice added, “Roof is clear. We’ll check in when we access the elevator.”

“Mmm, can’t wait to be working that shaft with you, Big Man,” Max purred.

“Max, for fuck’s sake,” I hissed.

“Can someone please remind me why my assigned partner in this heist is an eighteen-year-old high school senior and not one of the many seasoned military veterans we have working for us?” Bennett griped in his monotone.

“Unfortunately,” Noah said, his tone belying his deepest empathy at Bennett’s plight, “he’s the best lockpick we have, and that somehow includes breaking open elevator doors with a drop key.”

Max chuckled. “I am very skilled with my hands, what can I say?”

“Jesus Christ,” Zach muttered.

“Can you all fucking focus?” I said through the gritted teeth of my fake smile. “Knight One and Knight Two are in. We have eyes on Andrea.”

She was easy to spot, floating around the cavernous ballroom amongst the white-linen-covered tables on the arm of whatever opportunist had replaced Ramon as her head bodyguard.

Her magenta mermaid gown fit her ample curves like a glove, and her black hair had been swept into a classic up-do.

Her dark eyes—so achingly familiar to the ones I loved—scanned the room, calculating and cold.

A chamber orchestra performed Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons” from the small stage erected at the back of the room, the classical vibe of the music striking me as at odds with the almost gaudy theme of the room.

Atop every table was a floral arrangement that stood at least four feet high, all the flowers a shade of magenta similar to Andrea’s dress.

Large neon- blue chandeliers hung from the black ceiling, each draped with endless strings of lights and hovering over the tables like gargantuan jellyfish floating above our heads.

As we drifted past an empty table, I noted that the flatware had actual diamonds inlaid in the handles.

“Fake,” Zach said with a chuckle, noticing where my gaze had strayed. “No way my mom forked out that kind of cash given her dire financial straits. She’s only putting on this show to convince anyone who’s looking that everything is just fine.”

And we were here to put the final nail in her coffin.

“We’re in position,” Bennett said in my earpiece.

“Preparing to cut power,” Noah replied. “You’ll have ten seconds to pop the elevator doors open before it turns back on.”

“I’ll only need eight seconds,” Max said with a scoff. “Then Big Man and I will be shimmying down that shaft together. I can’t wait to watch him work it.”

“Keep running your mouth and I’ll leave you on the fucking roof,” Bennett retorted.

“Bennett, you will do no such thing,” I said under my breath. “Play nice, both of you.”

Grumbling sounded through my earpiece, and I tuned it out to focus on the task at hand.

Andrea watched us now, her deep suspicion about our presence here written all over her face, but she couldn’t hide the little hint of longing—of possessiveness —that flashed every time her eyes landed on her son.

And while she was down here in the ballroom, wooing potential new investors, pretending to give a shit about charity, and acting like the fact that she was turning fifty didn’t make her die a little inside, we would be taking from her the last leg she had to stand on.

Frankie’s sessions with Anderson—one of the only long-tenured high-level Ferrero Enforcers still breathing—had yielded some helpful, but also disturbing, information.

We’d already known that soon after Zach and Frankie had officially defected from Ferrero, Andrea had removed her most sensitive records from her basement office at the Euphoria Club.

Zach thought their new home was most likely somewhere in Ferrero Tower, and Frankie was able to persuade Anderson to confirm the exact location was Andrea’s hidden safe in her penthouse office .

Ferrero had always made a substantial portion of its fortune in illegal fights, running guns, and smuggling priceless art and other antiquities.

With Andrea’s legitimate businesses either gobbled up by Knight or flagging as investors abandoned the sinking ship, she had to lean heavily into the illegitimate side of her enterprise.

The records for these endeavors were kept old school—on paper ledgers locked away in a cabinet to which only Andrea had the key.

If we could put our hands on those records, we would have detailed instructions for wiping Ferrero off the map for good.

And there was more riding on our success tonight than just my burning desire for retribution and the City’s need to be washed clean of its filth—Anderson let it slip that in her desperation for cash, Andrea had finally decided to throw her hat into the ring with the lowest of the low when it came to smuggling.

Sex trafficking.

Andrea had always prided herself on her legal prostitution operation at the Club, where the escorts were there of their own free will, their clients were strictly vetted, and they were paid handsomely for their services.

But apparently, she was desperate enough now to deal in illegal, unwilling skin, and we needed to put our hands on the details of her first shipment—imminent, per Frankie—and we needed to do it before those poor men and women were harmed further.

With any luck, Andrea would be on the fast track to prison after tonight.

The lights flickered, and the crowd let out a collective gasp as the room was plunged into darkness.

“Power’s off,” Noah barked. “You’re on, Max.”

“Got it. Thanks, Nehemiah,” Max replied.

Noah’s long-suffering sigh was audible. “Eight seconds.”

I heard the slow grind of metal on metal through my earpiece, and after five seconds that felt like five hours, Bennett announced, “We’re in.”

The lights flickered again, and the neon jellyfish burst back to life. The orchestra resumed the music, the bartenders resumed serving drinks, and the partygoers returned to their shameless attempts to vie for Andrea’s attention.

But Andrea only had eyes for her son as she floated closer, her dark pink talons wrapped around a crystal champagne glass and her haughty smile intact.

Zach and I had each grabbed our own drinks from a passing waiter, mostly for show, and he snuggled me tighter into his side as we watched Andrea approach us like she was the predator and we were her prey when, really, it was the other way around.

All the while, I tried not to think too hard about Max and Bennett Ocean’s Eleven ing their way down the penthouse elevator shaft right about now.

“Zachary,” Andrea purred as she and her bodyguard came to a stop in front of us. “This is unexpected. I was hoping you were finished with your little rebellion, but seeing as how you have that traitorous bitch on your arm, I am not optimistic.”

The fake charm Zach usually displayed for his mother was nowhere to be found. “Disappointed your little hit job failed, Mom?” he spat. “Jojo and I are both getting tired of putting down your shitty mercs and subpar Enforcers.”

Andrea’s bodyguard frowned like he was greatly offended by that, but Andrea’s cold smile only grew as she remained focused on her son, ignoring me completely.

“Is that why you dropped by, Zachary? To gloat? You shouldn’t bother—I can’t help but be proud of the capable, ruthless man you’ve become.

I just wish you weren’t using everything I gave you for the wrong things, baby. ”

I gave Zach a little squeeze where my arm was wrapped around his waist. I knew he wouldn’t let anything his mother said bother him, but none of this was fun for him. My boys had all lost one or both of their parents—not in the same way I had, certainly—but it didn’t mean the loss wasn’t meaningful.

It didn’t mean it didn’t hurt just the same.

Zach made a show of tossing back a huge swig of his drink, then he said, “We’re here because we heard you were trying to lure some of Ferrero’s old allies back onto this sinking ship. As the Ferrero liaison for Knight, I thought I’d check on my interests. See if anyone was having second thoughts.”

Andrea sneered. “It breaks your mother’s heart to hear you talk about your legacy like that, Zachary.

This is not a sinking ship, and this is a charity gala.

You’re just so determined to make me out to be a monster, baby, when I have done nothing but protect our Family and give you the lavish life a Ferrero Heir deserves.

You’ve let that whore poison your mind.”

“Not another word about her, Mom,” Zach snapped. “Not another sound out of your mouth about the girl who you tried to murder when she was eleven-fucking-years old. Just like a monster would.”

Andrea blew out a frustrated breath, her smile strained as her burly blonde bodyguard ran his hand down her back to soothe her. She took a dainty sip of her champagne, and with a little shake of her head like she was clearing out the anger, her chilly poise was back.

She finally turned to face me. “Leave—you’re not welcome in Ferrero Tower. I don’t care how entranced you’ve made my son. This war you’ve started only ends one way, and it’s with you at the bottom of the Obsidian where you belong and order restored to this City.”

I smiled back, snuggling deeper into Zach’s side as he vibrated with tension next to me. “It’s over for you now, Andrea. We’re really just here to say goodbye.”

She scoffed, turning and giving me her back as she began to walk away. Then she paused, looking back over her shoulder at Zach to say, “I’m out of patience, Zachary. Return to where you belong before you end up at the bottom of the river too.”

We watched her stalk angrily away, dragging her bodyguard along, and they disappeared from the ballroom and down a hall that led to bathrooms and the kitchens.

“You okay?” I whispered.

“Yeah, baby girl,” he replied, sounding tired. “I just… don’t ever want to see her again.”

I could only nod, and we stood there in silence for several minutes.

Until that silence was shattered by Max’s urgent voice cutting into our ears. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. We’re locked in. Andrea’s office was outfitted with some kind of panic-room alarm, and we’re fucking locked in here.”

Zach and I looked at each other in wide-eyed alarm, then we sprinted out the ballroom doors.