“You just make me very glad I don’t have a fucking woman I love. I never want to feel what Elie did. Never. I probably would have murdered your bodyguards and everyone else in that room. You’re fortunate he’s your man. You think about that, Brielle. Think about him.”
She could hear the hint of anger in his voice, something rare for Dario. “I do, Dario. I didn’t realize I meant anything to him. I knew what I felt for him, but he’s lived a very different life than I have. I thought . . . well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. I realize I was wrong.”
She had been. Apparently, everyone else knew Elie loved her. She was the only one to question it. She had to get over her issues of confidence and embrace the fact that she was very lucky to have the man she’d wanted her entire life.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Although Barcelona during the day was gorgeous and full of things to do, at night, the city really came alive. The sun dropping signaled a change in energy, setting the streets on fire, so they bustled with raw vitality. Glittering lights illuminated the buildings in a riot of color, as if beckoning everyone to a dance party.
The door of the private jet opened, and a few moments later, Emilio Greco stood in the doorway, his wide shoulders nearly touching the doorframe. He surveyed the entire tarmac, parking lot and buildings before he turned to say something and then began his descent on the stairs leading to the ground below.
Shadows zigzagged across the asphalt and up the stairs to the very door of the jet, thrown by the giant overhead lights. Stefano Ferraro paused in the doorway of the aircraft, talking with his pilot, Franco Mancini, for a few minutes. He seemed relaxed, dressed in his immaculate suit, his body positioned sideways, as he spoke to the pilot, who was behind him, in the interior of the aircraft.
Elie chose his shadow and streaked past Stefano toward the meeting place the Archambaults had chosen. This was the first time in his entire history that Elie could remember being grateful he was related to the large, famous family. His uncle Marcellus was head of the International Council of Shadow Riders. They ruled over every rider family in the world. Jean-Claude, another uncle, was on the council ruling the French shadow riders. They were his father’s brothers. Although he despised the fact that he’d been shuffled from home to home as a child, he recognized that his father, the youngest of the three brothers, had dominion over him during his younger years. His parents were at fault, not his uncles, as much as he wanted to blame them.
Elie knew both uncles kept a close watch on his training. He had exceeded every other rider in the history of their programs, not just when it came to times in the shadows, but in combat and language training as well. He had done so from the very beginning of his training, and that was part of the reason no one objected when he was sent away at such a young age. They were too excited and proud to have a protégé such as Elie in their already renowned family. They forgot all about treating him like a child and human being rather than a robot to train and shape to their will.
He stepped from shadow to shadow, going through the city, finding his way easily with the maps in his head. This was where Brielle had lived and studied. She loved Barcelona and the people here. She spoke often of her time there and how much she had bonded with her host family. They had treated her as a daughter. It was the first time she had ever been treated so well, and at first, she had been leery, afraid to believe they could be so good. She’d stayed away from them as much as possible, but she loved their children and eventually came to believe in the adults.
The city with its people had won her over as well. The culture and the beauty. The food. The passion and energy. Brielle’s face lit up every time she talked about her stay there. Elie had made it a priority in his mind to take her back frequently to visit her host family and the places she loved the most. He wanted to share those with her. Right now, he was going to make certain it was safe for her to do so. That meant taking down the Toselli family and removing their choke hold on Barcelona.
Riders had come from numerous families around the world to aid in the takedown of such a large empire. First, the freighters and ships used for human trafficking that had been traced back to the Toselli family had to be disposed of. At the same time, any paperwork that would allow them to profit from losses had to be erased as though it had never been.
They had so many investigators working on erasing the coffers of the Toselli family, emptying their bank accounts, both legitimate and illegal, ensuring the missing money couldn’t be traced. Everything had to appear as if it had never been. In their homes and businesses, every safe was emptied. It was a huge undertaking and required a force of riders the likes of which had never been known before.
One of their precious shadow rider females had been targeted—nearly murdered—and that was unacceptable, never to be tolerated. The reason the shadow riders had scattered centuries earlier was for this very purpose—if someone threatened them, they could retaliate in force and no one could touch them. No one would ever see the shadow riders or know they were in Barcelona. They couldn’t possibly be blamed for what was in store for the Toselli family.
Elie stepped into another shadow that took him fast, streaking through the streets toward the large party house the riders’ support staff had rented. All cameras had been interrupted, making it safe for the shadow riders, once inside, to allow themselves to be out in the open. Heavy drapes were pulled so it would be impossible for anyone to see inside the windows.
Maps of the city were spread out on the tables. Marcellus Archambault waited for the riders to gather around in groups. He’d labeled each map clearly so each group of riders had their assignments and knew what parts of the city they would be going to. The Tosellis had several estates the riders would be visiting. All other main leaders of the organization and anyone aiding them in the trafficking business were going to be eliminated as well.
Elie would be leading the strike team against the main cluster of homes belonging to Arnau Toselli and his two sons. Elie intended to visit Guillem and Angel Toselli, both of whom lived near their father. After speaking with Arnau, and making it clear what a very big mistake he’d made in targeting Brielle, he would seek out Izan Serrano. Serrano was the dominant who frequented the Toselli-owned nightclub Fantasía Más Oscura.
Marcellus had five sons and one daughter, all amazing riders and Elie’s first cousins. He barely knew them, yet they had come immediately to free Barcelona from the grip the Tosellis had on the city. They greeted him warmly. He had met Maxence, the oldest, on more than one occasion, when they both frequented the clubs in Paris. Sacha and Gage, the next two in line, he’d competed against, although he rarely saw them. He just had his time posted against theirs. The last two of Marcellus’s sons, Croix and Talon, he’d met briefly after one of the big tournaments. They’d acted happy to get to meet him. He’d been a little aloof when he spent time with them before and he regretted his behavior, wishing he hadn’t been so standoffish.
Then there was Axelle, Marcellus’s only daughter. Like Emmanuelle, she was one of the rare females born into the families of riders. She was a beautiful woman and very fast in the shadows, like her brothers.
Elie didn’t understand why the rider families seemed to produce so few females. Their scientists were researching, considering the shadows might have something to do with it, influencing the bodies toward male genetics. After the revelation that Eloisa Ferraro had discovered—so many repeated trips into the shadows had given her brain bleeds—they were all much more cautious.
Jean-Claude had two sons, Roch and Arman, as well as one daughter, Alize. They also greeted Elie warmly. They’d met Stefano Ferraro as well as Vittorio and Giovanni. Ricco had been introduced to Maxence and Sacha during the hunt for Mariko’s brother. Looking around the spacious room that could barely contain the international contingent of riders, Elie was proud of belonging to something that important.
“The ships have been attacked by the riders from Portugal and Morocco,” Marcellus said. “All freighters, both large and small, are gone along with the entire crews participating in human trafficking. If they were at sea, they went down with their ships. If they were at home, they died in their homes. The Italian riders and Greek riders took the ones in their homes along with the Toselli capos and all his advisors.”
He tapped addresses to show the remaining riders the addresses of the estates and businesses. “All of the businesses must be taken down completely. These officials have been in the pockets of Toselli for far too long and made too much money.” He gave the list of names to the next group of riders. The riders had to study the layouts of the homes and businesses as well as the various ways to get to each of them through the city.
“Elie, you have both sons, Arnau and their wives as well as Izan Serrano. You’re used to working with Ricco and Mariko so they’re with you. Let us know when to call in someone to come for the children if they’re on the estate.”
Elie nodded, studied the addresses, and then he, Mariko and Ricco together spent several minutes studying the layout of each of the homes they would be visiting. When they were done, they turned to catch a shadow that would take them to the home of Angel Toselli, Arnau’s youngest son.
Angel’s villa was located about a half hour’s travel from downtown Barcelona and just down the street from the two houses belonging to his father and his brother, Guillem. He had a tremendous view of the Mediterranean Sea from his living room and upstairs master bedroom suite. Like his family’s other two properties, his home had four floors and five bedrooms and seven and a half bathrooms. Each of the three villas had been designed by the same architect under the scrutiny of Arnau Toselli. There were passageways and safe rooms built into each of the villas, and after their construction along the exclusive northern coast of Barcelona, the architect died tragically in a terrible accident. It seemed there was a mysterious curse that followed anyone who had worked on the villas as well. Those men died in accidents over time or just disappeared.
Angel kept his home very private. The villa was surrounded by a high, thick wall covered in green vines that kept out prying eyes. Heavily armed guards patrolled the grounds. They were extremely careful to stay on the paths that led through the beautiful gardens surrounding the modern, four-story villa.
Elie, Mariko and Ricco slid up and over the high wall and past the patrolling guards. Three had dogs. One immediately reacted, turning toward the shadows as they streaked by, warning the trainer with a short bark. The handler scanned the garden and then glanced toward the house warily, abruptly commanding the dog to be silent.
Elie stepped from one shadow to a smaller one that slid under a side entrance. He was nearly thrown out of the tube into the house, the shadow ended so abruptly. He was able to put the brakes on at the last moment and stood in the mouth of the shadow, allowing his body to come back to itself. His heart had accelerated and he deliberately slowed his breathing while he evaluated the situation.
Elie was just outside of the dining area. There was no sound coming from the living room, but he could hear music playing upstairs. He stepped silently out of the shadows and approached the stairs. Ricco stepped out of a shadow and signaled him that he was moving through all the rooms and would ensure the downstairs was free of guards. Mariko indicated she was taking a shadow to the second floor to do the same. Elie would clear the third floor and then go up to the master bedroom on the fourth floor, where the music was playing.