“Was.” Hudson’s voice was clipped. Hearing Julian referred to as Allie’s fiancé, regardless of his current status, didn’t set well, and seeing the two of them together was even worse. He bit down on his molars as their official engagement photo flashed onto the screen.
The sound of Jim’s voice was a welcome distraction from the sight of Julian’s hand curled possessively around Allie’s shoulder. “Are you sure your information is reliable?”
“From the man himself,” Hudson said. “Alessandra Sinclair is being blackmailed by Laurent into marrying him for the sole purpose of gaining control of Ingram Media. He incarcerated her at his château in Paris for several hours yesterday after luring her there under the pretense of returning his engagement ring.”
“Tacky of him to ask her to return it,” Jessica said, completely unfazed by the mention of blackmail or kidnapping.
“It is a family heirloom gifted down from one French fuck to another.” Hudson dragged in a breath and made an effort to sound more politically correct. “I’m sure there are decent individuals in the Laurent family, but right now I’d like to annihilate their entire bloodline.” Okay, not entirely PC, but he was way past playing nice.
“Appropriate given the origin of the piece,” Ivan said dryly.
Back to business. “Over the course of his conversation with Miss Sinclair, Laurent admitted to murdering her parents. But we have no proof, no money tied to the hit, and an assassin whose talking days are over. That’s where you come in.” Hudson’s options were limited to the confines of the law, but this group could push the boundaries and end this nightmare by any means necessary. “If you’re as good as Max says you are, then I’m certain with your combined expertise you can nail the son of a bitch.”
Ivan leaned forward in his chair. “If I may, what’s your stake in all this?”
“I have a vested interest as a significant shareholder of Ingram Media.”
“And your relationship to Miss Sinclair?” he asked.
Hudson pushed to his feet and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows. In the distance he could see the river cutting the city in half, and Ingram Media on the opposite bank. Somewhere in that building was the woman who owned every corner of his heart and his entire soul; the woman he’d sacrifice himself to protect. He glanced over his shoulder at the team of intelligence experts he’d assembled to quite literally save her life. “Business associates.”
“No offense, Mr. Chase,” Jessica said. “But a man doesn’t go to all this trouble for a business associate.” He noted the sardonic tone in her voice. “Especially one that just broke his heart. Again.”
Hudson turned away from the window and his eyes clashed with Jessica’s. “I didn’t take you for the type to gather intel from gossip sites.”
“Video paparazzi can provide valuable surveillance footage.” She smiled. “Unknowingly, of course.”
Hudson narrowed his gaze. “I protect my investments.”
Ivan snorted. “I think I speak for the group when I say none of us are buying that.”
“There is a modicum of respect I demand from individuals when in the confines of my building, Ivan. I’ve earned it.”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve earned the same, Mr. Chase, and I’m well compensated for it. I’m also good at reading people, and I can tell you’re a man with an instinctual drive to protect. I admire it, but it’s your Achilles’ heel as well as your strength. And can you honestly say you’re offended I want to cut through the crap?”
Far from it. In fact, he was actually starting to like the guy. The goddamn bastard was observant and he wasn’t throwing any punches. He also wasn’t a man who was easily intimidated. By anyone.
Jim cleared his throat. “I think what Ivan is trying to so eloquently say”—he cut his eyes at his military counterpart—“is that you need to level with us. We can’t operate at top form without all the necessary information.”
Hudson ran a hand back through his hair. Jim had a point. They couldn’t be expected to deliver results without reading the fine print. “What do you need?”
“It would be helpful to know the nature of the blackmail as well as the extent of your relationship with Miss Sinclair.”
Hudson joined them at the table. “Alessandra and I have been involved since shortly before Christmas. One of Julian’s demands was that she end our relationship, which he and the press believe she did last night. He’s made it clear he intends to use her status in the US to catapult himself to the equivalent of American royalty. He wants . . .” What’s mine. “My shares of Ingram Media as well.”
The three operatives listened as Hudson outlined the details of Julian’s plan. No notes were taken, no paper trail created, but he knew they were absorbing and analyzing every detail. When he was finished, it was Jim who spoke first.
“What concessions are you willing to make?” he asked.
“Such as?”
Ivan piped up. “Keeping your distance from Miss Sinclair, restricting your . . . activities together. Perhaps even leaving the city.”
“Our activities are none of your business. And while I’m equipped to work anywhere in the world, Julian’s plan hinges on Miss Sinclair’s ability to convince me to part with my shares of Ingram. Even if it didn’t, there’s no way I would leave town. I’ll jump through the necessary hoops to convince Julian that Allie is following his directives, but the only way I’m staying one hundred percent away from her”—Hudson leveled his stare on Ivan—“is if I’m dead.”
Jim’s voice was solemn when he spoke. “Mr. Chase, if you don’t do as we advise, that could be a distinct possibility.”
“And if this Laurent character is as crazy he sounds, he already has your plots picked out,” Ivan added.
Max cut Ivan a look.
“What?” Ivan said in return. “You know as well as I do what people are capable of. Hell, look at what this guy has already done.”
“Nonetheless,” Hudson said, “Julian is expecting me to pursue her. A certain amount of interaction will assure him things are progressing as planned.”
“Which brings us back to the question of leverage,” Jim said.
When Hudson hesitated, Ivan spoke up. “We’re all in this line of work because we don’t always play nice with authority,” he said. “But discretion and confidentiality are nonnegotiable. We wouldn’t last long otherwise. When you get our bill, you’ll see our services come at a very high price. Might as well get your money’s worth.”
Hudson let out a resigned breath. “Julian is in possession of a surveillance video that could prove harmful to people Miss Sinclair cares about.” That’s all he said, and in his opinion that was all they needed to know. Aside from Allie and himself, Max was the only person who knew what was on that video, and Hudson intended to keep it that way.
“So you’re looking for something to hold over his head,” Jessica said. It was more statement than question. “A trade of sorts.”
“Video can be forged and manipulated,” Jim said. “Which is why copies can be easily discredited. The original footage is your primary concern.”
“Max is handling that aspect of the investigation. Your objective is to locate evidence that connects Julian to the deaths of Richard and Victoria Sinclair. I need proof he was the executioner, and I need it before the police.”
“Understood,” the three of them said as one.
“Max.” Hudson nodded to his right-hand man.
“These envelopes contain copies of the crime scene photos and police reports, along with the statements taken from Miss Sinclair, the housekeeper, and the neighbors.” Max slid the manila envelopes across the glossy mahogany one at a time. Ivan slapped his palm down on top of the thick packet to bring it to a stop, then Jim and Jessica followed suit. “You will also find the full work-up of the subject, including the addresses of numerous properties, the various holdings in his family’s trust, and a few of the more mundane facts as well: what he smokes, what he drinks, and his, ah . . .” Max cleared his throat. “Preferences.”