The Boss Assignment (Rogue Protectors Book 3) Victoria Paige (top 100 novels of all time TXT) 📖

I think he took the fact that he was never getting a son, another child, and fixated on it. He convinced himself that I was a spawn of evil or something.”

“Is your dad religious?”

Charly shook her head. “No, it’s not that type of evil. Just that I was bad.”

“So, when your mother died …”

She nodded. “The seed had already been festering, so my mother’s death pushed him past the tipping point. Like a trigger.” Charly blew out a breath. “So now he constantly watches me. He feels like he just needs to keep tabs on me.”

“I’m not liking this. It’s like your father is stalking you.”

“You don’t need to tell me that.”

“Is there medicine for this psychosis?”

“He refuses to talk to someone. He already gave up being Chief of Neurology. After what happened when he smashed my hand, he knew he had a problem.”

“He probably blames you for that too,” he snarled softly. “Tell me, Charly. What can I do? Do you want me to confront him?”

“Oh, no. Please don’t do that.”

“I can’t just stand by and let that bastard get away with it.” He noticed her wince when he called her father a derogatory name. “Don’t tell me you’re feeling sorry for him. If he refuses to get help for his issues, it’s not your fault.”

“He wasn’t the same after Mom died.”

“Are you sure you’re not blaming yourself anymore?”

“After what he did to my hand, and after two years of talking to a therapist and participating in a grief support group, I think I’ve gotten beyond that.”

Antonio got up and sat across from her again to resume working on places on her wrists where that fucker hurt her. “Now you’ve got me too. You can talk to me about this. I’m not letting your mind go to a dark place.”

“And you, Antonio? Are you going to talk to me, too, when you go into that dark place?”

They looked at each other. Was he willing to talk to her about Dante? Unlike the first time she asked him about what happened, he didn’t have the urge to withdraw. What a difference these past few days made, but it also reminded him of another urgent matter.

He leaned in and kissed her on the mouth again. “I will. But—”

A pounding on their door had Antonio leaping over the coffee table, grabbing his gun from his duffle and slipping beside the door.

“Who is it?”

“Bristow,” came the muffled response.

Lowering his weapon, he opened the door.

The seriousness on the former SEAL’s face had his body tensing.

“Renata is in Los Angeles.”

24

“She’s here?”

Charly asked from behind him, but Antonio used his broad form to block her from Bristow’s view. He tipped his chin to her breasts. She scowled at him, but she got his point and crossed her arms over her chest.

Antonio was a possessive son of a bitch, what could he say?

“That’s according to Detective Woodward. They received a message at their LAPD task force.” Bristow began walking away. “We’re trying to gather more intel.”

“We’ll be right down.” Antonio shut the door and strode past Charly. He lugged the suitcase onto the coffee table and flipped it open. He took out dark pants and a dark long-sleeved shirt. His mind calculated his next steps. That was Jacaré, he had no doubt, and the man was making his move

“Antonio …”

“Get dressed.” He paused when he saw her scowl deepen. “Please. And wear shoes. Something comfortable, just in case we need to be on the move.”

“You think they’ll let us tag along?”

He pulled the shirt over his head. “I’m always ready. I don’t want to be left behind because every second counts.” He nodded to her things. “Get out what you need. I’ll help you put them on.”

“My wrists don’t hurt as much anymore,” she said.

“Don’t argue.” He put on his pants and then sat on the couch to pull on his boots. He slipped out a shoulder harness for his gun.

Charly gaped at him. “Do you moonlight as a secret agent?”

Even with his worry about Renata, he had to smile at her words. He grabbed the top from her hand and helped her into it. “No, but I’m not always the helpless billionaire.”

“I heard from Bristow you used to be an enforcer and, yes, I know what that means. A mob’s hitman.”

“You shouldn’t listen to Bristow.”

“Are you denying it?”

When her head pushed through her top’s neckline, he rested his hands on her shoulders. “I did things that were necessary so Andrade Organization could go legitimate. I’ll tell you about it one day.”

He helped her into her jeans and waited as she slipped on her sneakers. Then, hand in hand, they left the room to meet the others.

“This was sent to our task force email.” A blond woman with tattoos on her right arm informed the group gathered around the dining table. Antonio had never met her but her name had been mentioned often. Either Garrison had groveled or, since the LAPD was involved, Nadia Powell had no choice but to work with them.

On the screen was an image of Renata inside a room. She didn’t look abused, neither did she look well.

“The email said she’s infected with Z-92, so it’s the mutation that came from the CDC lab,” Nadia continued. “They said they were going to infect more people if we don’t give in to their demands.”

“And what are their demands?” Charly asked.

“They want the task force to hand over Antonio Andrade.”

“What?” Charly turned to Gabby who was the only law enforcement person in the house besides the analyst. “You’re not seriously considering their demands, are you?”

“This is unusual. We’d usually turn this over to the FBI—this is not exactly a kidnapping, but a terrorist threat. We don’t negotiate with terrorists. But this case is unique since it’s not a ransom they want, but a person.”

“Antonio,” Charly turned to him, her crystal blue eyes luminous.

He couldn’t bear the pleading in her gaze and looked at Garrison. The CIA officer’s face was impassive.

“How sure are we that