Drawn to the Enemy (Connected Book 2), page 1
Drawn to the Enemy
(Connected 2)
Barbara Winkes
Copyright © 2024 by Barbara Winkes
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales are purely coincidental. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For D.
Prologue
Two years ago
The man kept his hand on his weapon, aware that it was trembling slightly. Failure was not an option. In fact, it would be fatal. He cursed his charge for running off without waiting for him, into what could be an ambush. His opponents—business partners, as he called them—were not to be trusted, but then again, the same could be said about the man’s employers. Blackmailers. Same difference. He stepped out of the light of the streetlamp and into the shadows of the dark alley.
He could hear voices getting more agitated.
What a fool, expecting him to clean up his messes time after time. And the man would, because he, too, had made his choices. For him and his wife to enjoy a comfortable life, their kids receiving an excellent education at their private schools.
Everything had a price.
Everyone had a price.
He couldn’t afford to be distracted. That could be fatal too.
He carefully inched closer to where he could see the outline of the two men, raised voices telling him that their argument was about to turn physical. Once again, he was asking himself how the hell he had gotten to his point. He used to have…principles? He almost laughed out loud. Too little too late.
When he saw the glint of a knife, he pulled the trigger.
One of the men dropped to the ground, the other one looked around frantically before he ran.
The man assumed that the prince would wait for him at the car. Silly boy.
He went over to the fallen adversary to make sure he wouldn’t bother them again tonight, the color draining from his face when he got a good look at him.
“Oh no,” he muttered, lightheaded with the sight and what it meant. “Fuck, no. No, no.”
In his mind, he went through a multitude of worst-case scenarios. Most of them had him end up dead as well. Then he saw the plastic card on the ground. A credit card, left behind by the runner.
He picked it up and pocketed it, taking a last look around to make sure no one had witnessed the incident.
The few windows that belonged to residents had stayed dark. Whoever had the bad fortune to live here, knew better than to talk to the police.
Unbelievable. He was safe.
He hurried back to the car and took off, resisting the urge to blast the radio at its highest volume.
Safe, if he played his cards right.
He was going to miss the fool. Prince. Sorry, he thought. Better you than me.
Chapter One
Courtney
Present
I desperately need a break. That’s not the same as running away, is it? It might be in the cards sometime soon, if there’s no alternative, but it’s not my intention now. A couple of weeks in the city, away from the weight of obligations and revelations should do the trick.
I need to clear my mind, figure out what is fact, and what is imagination. About Tommy’s death, and the future Oliver and I are going to have.
We left this morning, early enough to avoid an awkward conversation at the breakfast table. I bought us sandwiches at the train station, a venti coffee for me, and a hot chocolate for Oliver. He thinks it’s all a big adventure, and I want to keep up the illusion as long as possible.
Illusions, I have few of them left. If they haven’t already, I’m certain that Rory and Ciara could track me easily, find out what train we’re on, what hotel we will check into.
I tried to be stealthy, be my usual polite self, not raise any controversy, though it’s been a lot harder lately.
We have all been coming out of the worst of grief, but we’re dealing with this new reality differently. Or perhaps not so differently, projecting our hopes and dreams onto my four-year-old son who is blissfully ignorant of all of it as he’s engrossed in his princess coloring book.
I suppress a smile remembering one dinner last week when Rory just barely stopped himself from making a comment. It took only one look from Ciara, a raised eyebrow, to make him rein in that comment. Their hearts are in the right place, I think. Most of the time.
Earlier, a teenaged person with pink streaks in their blonde hair sat across from us for a few stops, and they gave Olli a thumbs up, to his delight.
As a parent, it’s easy to get drawn into assumptions, when you should love them above all. That’s always the priority for me. I want to believe it was that for Rory and Ciara as well, though they raised Tommy differently. Family and loyalty matter. Maybe even love. But they also need an heir, a man of the house. This is where our differences come in.
Tommy made a choice, with all the possible consequences that came with it. The price was too high, for him, for all of us. I have to draw my own conclusions, and this is why I dragged my son out of bed at an ungodly hour to leave the mansion and get out of town.
I’ve been breathing easier with every stop, every mile farther away from home, which tells me nothing I didn’t already know.
This time will be good for us. It will determine the future, and no matter what anyone thinks, it’s up to me to make those decisions. I’d like to think Tommy would see it the same way. I doubt it. But he’s not here, and I have a child to protect above all else.
Finally, the train rumbles into the station. After we check into the hotel, it will be time for lunch and a nap, likely for both of us. I already lined up our luggage, but when I ask Oliver for the coloring book and pencils, he protests.
“Mommy! I’m almost done!”
“You can finish at the hotel,” I promise him, aware that there’s a line forming behind me. Our fellow travelers’ gazes range from bored to annoyed. I see the teenager from before giving me a smile.
“But I want to…”
“Sweetie, we’re here now. We’re going to get you some chicken nuggets, and later we’ll go see Jade, remember?”
His eyes light up, his enthusiasm reminding me of someone else I knew, all those years ago before he became a stranger. It makes me even more determined.
“I like Jade,” Oliver says, and, to my relief, lets me pack away the pencils and book. If I were a character in a romance novel, I might be letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I know I was holding it because I’m close to being lightheaded.
No time for that. I grab the handle of my suitcase, put his little backpack over my shoulder along with my purse, take his hand, and off we go.
I can hear a few mumbles behind us, but we make it to the platform and out of the train station without incident. We get into a cab and only fifteen minutes later, arrive at the Hotel Grand Palace. I used up a lot of points and all the online offers I was able to combine, knowing this might be one of the last times I’m able to offer us such frivolous luxury.
Funny, that I’m thinking in these terms already, only hours after I’ve left. Life with the Flynns was all that and then some, but it might come to an end sooner than later.
We had some snacks on the train earlier. Oliver never says no to one, and I had to calm my nerves, irrationally fearing that someone might come after us. It’s a good thing we ate. There’s a small line at reception.
Out of habit, clutching Oliver’s hand, I take a look around, familiarize myself with my surroundings. Exits. Sometimes I don’t know if I picked it up before, even when I had no clue what was going on, or if sudden loss created it. An experience like that certainly reinforces caution. Or paranoia.
My gaze lands on a tall blonde woman with perfectly coiffed hair standing by herself at a high table. She was probably lucky and checked in before the rush. Not that there is a rush now.
In a complete contrast to my earlier frantic preoccupation, I notice the way the dark blue dress hugs every one of her curves. She’s wearing high heels, a blazer over her arm, her purse sitting on the table next to her. She’s all class and elegance, and has me flustered for no reason, especially when she catches me ogling her, and the corners of her lips turn upwards into an amused smile.
“Good morning!”
The cheery smile of the hotel employee doesn’t give anything away, though I can tell from her tone and slightly raised voice that it’s not the first time she’s addressing me. Feeling my face redden, I finally give her my full attention.
“Courtney Flynn,” I say, blushing even harder, as if the employee cared at all. Saying my name, my married name, jolts me out of any stray fantasy about the stunning woman standing a few feet away. “I reserved a room online.”
I thought I was unsettled before. It seems to take forever until she hands me my keycard, and Oliver and I can finally go up to our room.
When we pass by the woman, she’s on the phone, but still for some inexplicable reason, holding my gaze.
I nearly run into another hotel guest who has just arrived, and that probably serves me right.
What the hell am I doing?
***
I’m still not hungry, but we walk the few steps to a fast-food restaurant nearby to get Oliver his favorite for lunch. We’ve only just arrived. Between hanging out with Jade, and following my plans for the next few days, there will be healthier options.
As predicted, he’s out for the count moments after we are back at the hotel, and after tucking him in, I use the time for a long hot shower. Given my earlier, puzzling reaction, a cold one might have been in order, but I need all the comfort I can get.
Even with the warmer spring day, I’ve been cold since this morning, which might have to do with little to no sleep last night, and others before, and too many nerves.
Time to ease up a little. I don’t have to look over my shoulder here, at least not for the next few days. No one knows.
And if I stared at that woman a little too long, who can blame me? She was exquisite, I remember as the hot water rains down on me, and completely out of my league. Abruptly, I turn off the water and wrap myself in one of the huge fluffy towels, feeling awkward being naked, even if it’s just me and my muddled thoughts. I once believed Tommy was out of my league too, and see what happened.
My baggage aside, I’m clearly the complete opposite of her. I could never get my hair to cooperate like that, even with pricey hairdressers. I can be clumsy, my near collision with the other guest case in point, though I guess I could sell that as part of my charm.
What is wrong with me? I’ll never see her again. She probably thought I was ridiculous. And I have bigger problems to address.
Yet, her image lingers on my mind, which is intriguing and strange. No one has had this effect on me—since Tommy.
Chapter Two
Sienna
I’m here for business, which means my attention is single-mindedly focused, or at least it has been for most of the morning. Meetings, contracts with investors, discussing events and marketing campaigns for the chain, it’s keeping me busy.
Or it should, but my thoughts keep wandering back to the woman I saw in the lobby. I must admit that every once in a while, a guest like her catches my eye, younger, adorable, carefree, the whole package, a blessed contrast to my own life. Not that I’m ungrateful. While I worked hard to get into my position, I’m not naïve enough to ignore that I had a leg up, and that people will remember. That means I have to work even harder to prove to everyone, including myself, that I belong here, that the people who put their trust in me didn’t do so for sentimental reasons, but because they knew I could handle myself in a high-pressure environment.
It doesn’t leave a lot of room for romance, but I’m not complaining. Occasionally, one of those younger, adorable women finds herself in my company, in the private suite I keep for multiple reasons. Mostly, to work in peace, but sometimes, to discreetly fulfill the needs of a woman who doesn’t have time to date.
I am back in my suite after the last meeting, wondering about her. That’s likely all I’ll do in this case, because when she passed me by earlier, I saw something in her doe eyes that made me back off. Pain. That, combined with the boy holding on to her hand, is a red flag. At first, I thought she might be the nanny, but when no other adult showed up, and I saw them up close for a moment, I realized he was hers.
A child isn’t necessarily a problem either, but there was something about her that spelled trouble. And it’s the last thing I need right now when things have been going so well on our side. The Moretti family has all but disappeared from the picture. The few of them that are not locked up for attempted murder are keeping a low profile, aware of new and improved alliances.
Speaking of alliances. And attempted murder.
With the sweeping new developments we are taking on for new hotel projects, including a couple of huge resorts, the ridiculous rumors and accusations that have followed us should be a thing of the past.
Tomorrow, I’ll have an interview with a prestigious fashion magazine—seems counterintuitive, but it will go a long way to link our business to its original prestige. It’s a big moment for us, and I intend to enjoy every second of it, after years of damage control.
On the weekend, I’ll have a little celebration with Aunt Simona and Uncle Francesco.
I am quite proud of my achievements, my ability to turn the ship around in what was one hell of a shitstorm, pardon my mixed metaphors. Their pride in me means a lot.
I don’t care for distractions, but this one was…interesting. I might push my luck and find out what room she’s in, and how long she’s staying. No time like the present.
***
The contracts were vetted by our lawyers a long time ago, so all I have to do is file them away. I go over the questions for the interview again and find I’m well prepared. I always am.
I send a text to Aunt Simona, It’s done, and wait for her immediate response.
Congratulations! We can’t wait to see you on Saturday.
I put my phone aside and step to the window, look outside at the city at my feet. The sun is starting to set, a dramatic spectacle from my point of view. I can’t help smiling.
They couldn’t keep us down for long, but they had no idea how strong we would come back. You don’t mess with a Caruso. Keeping the peace, seeking revenge for those outrageous accusations—it will be in our hands.
I look forward to seeing Simona and Francesco, but I do feel like a little private celebration myself.
Just out of curiosity, I check reservations.
I’m not often taken off guard, but I have to admit, I am, just a little, when I see the name. I check all the information, and it all fits. Then I search her online, and shake my head, at myself, at her.
Courtney Flynn.
Courtney fucking Flynn. She’s adorable all right, the Flynns’ widowed daughter-in-law, and now other things make a lot more sense too. It’s not up to me or certain needs of mine anymore. I have to keep an eye on her. Even though those contracts are signed, her presence here, at this time, can’t be a coincidence. Was she mocking me?
I decide that was likely not the reason. In the Flynn family, she basically disappeared behind the imposing figures, her husband and her in-laws, quietly taking care of her son. I never met her before, obviously, but I heard that she keeps an ultra-low profile, not involved with the business.
That look she gave me though was interesting. Telling. Deer-in-the-headlights when she realized I caught her checking me out.
I decide to find her and figure out what she knows. At this point, complications are unacceptable.
Chapter Three
Courtney
Home sweet home, at least for the next couple of weeks. After that…I probably can’t avoid any awkward conversations, even if my plan works out. There are still a few faults in its design. I can’t deny that my in-laws did a lot for Oliver and me after what happened to Tommy. Okay, so they insisted on a prenup, but given that I was young and naïve at some point, and signed it, they could have kicked us out.
Part of me still wonders, would they have kicked me out, if it hadn’t been for Oliver? Family matters, but I was the outsider, the one that was out of the loop.
Naïve, yes, I guess I have to own up to that, but how was I supposed to know how much money a business makes importing whiskey and other spirits? All I knew was that they had money, and I didn’t ask too many questions as to where it came from. That seemed…Inappropriate? Impolite? Tommy never made much of an effort to share, and then he was gone, and I was a single mother with a toddler. The value of whiskey wasn’t high on my priority list before. I couldn’t afford to immerse myself in grief, and so Oliver became the sole focus.
He still is, but I’ve been more awake lately, slowly understanding what I’ve been missing.
Rory has been talking about an expensive private school, one that I could never afford on my own.
No problem, he said, you’re family. We help each other out.
Lately, I’ve started reading between the lines, and what I see worries me. Tommy went to that same school, and if he was still here, I might not be so concerned.
Things are a lot more complicated now.
There’s a coffee bar in the hotel, but I want us to get out into the sun for a bit. We walk to the café where Jade is already waiting for us, waving enthusiastically from her booth. I can feel the smile relax my face. At least something isn’t complicated. We’ve been best friends since college and kept in touch even through my turbulent recent past.
