Page List


Font:  

I untied the ribbon and loosened the lid. “That’s very kind of you, but you didn’t need to—” I looked inside.

Shoes. More specifically,myshoes. The expensive satin Manolo Blahniks I’d discarded in the west wing of Dante’s mansion and left behind in our haste to escape.

Triple shit.

My mouth gaped like a goldfish’s, and my gaze shifted from the heels to Agent Williams.

“It seems Cinderella left both her slippers at the ball,” she said. “And I have to say, this Prince Charming gig isn’t what it’s cracked up to be, because I’ve been looking everywhere for the owner of those shoes. They were left just down the hall from where Maxim Orlov’s body was found looking like he’d gone toe-to-toe with Chuck Norris. Only problem is, the heels don’t belong to anyone we interviewed on the scene.” She shrugged her shoulders. “So, I guess it’s a mystery that will never be solved. Anyway, I thought they might fit you.” She arched a dark brow. “Seemed a shame to leave beautiful shoes like that in the evidence locker.”

“They’re…they’re very pretty.” My eyes shot to Brandon, who was making a poor effort at concealing his smirk. “Thank you, Agent Williams.”

“Please, call me Maya. And there’s another reason for my visit today. I’d like to offer you a job.”

What?

I blinked fast. “A job?”

“The FBI will be testing potential new recruits soon. I’d be happy to put forward a strong recommendation for you. If you’re interested, that is?”

“Wow. That’s very generous of you.” A job with the FBI? That would be incredible. And if she’d asked me six months ago, I’d have said yes right away. But things were different now. “I appreciate the offer. But I’m sorry. I can’t accept.”

Brandon squeezed my side. “Sage, this could be an amazing opportunity. Maybe you should take some time to think about it?”

“No, I don’t need time.” I stared up into his aquamarine eyes. “I know what I want to do.”

Maya hooked her thumbs behind her belt. “Field agent is a highly sought-after role, one I suspect you’d excel at. Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”

I glanced at Brandon. “We have other important plans.”

Even though completing my thesis had consumed most of my time these last six months, I was still able to help Brandon with the redistribution of Dante’s wealth to his victims. We were already funneling money back into the community with anonymous donations being placed into bank accounts of those who needed it most. Given Dante and his uncle Franky had built an empire worth billions of dollars, it was a mammoth task with plenty more work to be done.

We also kept tabs on emerging organized-crime gangs in Philadelphia. We couldn’t stamp them out altogether, but we could prevent them from gaining absolute control the way the Wolf Street Mafia had.

Brandon hadn’t had to wait long to take down the assholes who’d held Janie captive. Turned out they’d been keeping three other women captive on a small island in Greece owned by one of Europe’s richest men. He and some friends had had a terrible accident at sea aboard his megayacht. Such a shame.

Brandon and Vaughn’s team had completed the rescue missions from the list found on the hard drive, but since then, they’d identified other trafficking rings. Brandon was committed to bringing each victim home and had a full-time job coordinating the recoveries. Those who’d returned faced a variety of difficulties. PTSD, forced drug addiction, malnourishment. The list was…extensive and sickening.

Brandon had been right. At times, it was unpleasant work. The stories the women shared of their trauma often brought me to tears. But every time Vaughn and his team returned from a mission, we knew we’d done something good by eliminating another evil from the world. And each life they saved was precious, the effects felt throughout families and communities. I was so proud of Brandon and what he’d accomplished. He was my own personal hero.

Dante had owned a large ranch in Montana that now served as a halfway house for the women upon their arrival back in the States. It was run by a team of medical professionals and counselors who gave them the care they needed. The women’s families were welcome to stay at the on-site lodge until they were ready to return home and reintegrate with society, although some chose to remain, taking jobs helping new arrivals settle in.

Brandon and I visited the ranch every couple of weeks. We were invested in the survivors’ recovery, and now that my classes were finished, I wanted us to move to Montana permanently. Vaughn already had and was working to build a separate facility to assist veterans with PTSD.

So, yeah. Brandon and I had plenty of plans, and I wasn’t interested in shying away from them so I could wear a fancy FBI badge.

Maya’s gaze shifted to the three carats of sparkling bling on my ring finger that I hadn’t taken off since the masquerade.

“I guess further congratulations are in order for the both of you,” she said.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Brandon cut in. “Thank you,” he said and put his arm around my shoulders, sending me off-balance when he tucked me firmly to his side. “Sage asked me three times before I eventually said yes, but I’m sure I’ve made the right decision.”

I elbowed him in the gut. Hard.

“Oof!” Brandon doubled over and raised a palm. “I’m fine.” His voice strained as he winced. “Totally deserved that.”

I pressed my lips together. “We’re not engaged.”

Brandon straightened and rubbed his belly. “But we will be.”


Tags: Julie Weaver Team Zulu Romance