Master of Secrets
Master of Secrets
Sienna Snow
Contents
Gods of Vegas, Book 4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Coming Soon
Gods of Vegas, Book 1
About the Author
Books by Sienna Snow
Gods of Vegas, Book 4
By Sienna Snow
Copyright Page
Copyright © 2019 by Sienna Snow
Published by Sienna Snow
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All rights reserved.
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The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact author@siennasnow.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
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Cover Design: Steamy Designs
Editor: Jennifer Haymore
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www.siennasnow.com
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ISBN - eBook - 978-1-948756-13-6
ISBN - Print - 978-1-948756-15-0
Dedication
I dedicate Master of Secrets to my friend and keeper Catherine Anderson. She cheers me on, kicks me in the ass, and tells me which way is up. She knows what to say and exactly when to say it.
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Finishing this book was harder and more emotional than anything I had written to date. It forced me to explore a dark world no one should ever experience. Without Catherine’s encouragement and pushiness, I would never have finished writing this book or survived the editing process.
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Catherine - Thank you for jumping on my crazy train. I cherish your friendship more than you could ever know.
Chapter One
Anaya
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“You know the drill. Don’t get distracted and check in exactly at twenty-three hundred.” My handler Briana’s Italian-accented demand rang into my earpiece.
“Copy.” I stared at my image in the antique wood-framed mirror, touching up the last of my makeup.
I had one job to do. Find a way into the Trevolo Mansion located in the heart of Venice, avoid arousing suspicion, plant the trackers, and leave without getting caught. As long as the recon was accurate, the job would be a piece of cake.
Tonight, I wasn’t Anaya Anthony, the product of an illicit affair between international criminal Victor Anthony and Greek socialite Rhea Lykaios. Instead, I was a trained and honed Solon agent on a mission.
This wasn’t my first undercover operation, but it was my most high profile and first as the lead. My usual assignments involved behind-the-scenes monitoring and targeting where interacting with anyone was considered a hazard to my job. This time, I was out in public, with an assumed name and a fabricated background so rock solid that my family wouldn’t be able to find me.
“Coast is clear. Head downstairs. Going dark for sixty, starting now.” Briana disconnected, leaving me to my task. I’d meet up with her near the pool house in precisely an hour.
I checked my reflection one last time. I adjusted my blond hair so it looked a little unkempt, in the style of my persona. One day I’d go back to my natural color, a rich black-brown. At least it was still long and Briana hadn’t advised me to cut it.
Smoothing down my cap-sleeve Monica Malone gown, I opened the door to the bathroom and made my way through the hallway that led to the ballroom.
A security guard smiled in my direction and then gave me a head-to-toe survey. I’d noticed him checking me out earlier, and it looked like he hadn’t lost interest. He was one of three men patrolling the area around the residence.
“Excuse me,” I said to him in Italian. “Do you know what time dinner is expected to start?”
He glanced at his watch. “Not for another hour.”
I sighed and then covered my stomach. “I should have had a snack to hold me over. But then again, I’m not sure Mrs. Trevolo would have let me take a break with all the craziness of the party.”
The guard’s face lit up as if he’d discovered something. “Now I know where I’ve seen you. You’re Anastasia Ashton, Monica Malone’s assistant. You helped design all Mrs. Trevolo’s gowns for tonight’s event.”
I made a show of wincing. “Guilty as charged.”
As far as the world knew, I was the eccentric world-renowned designer’s assistant. I worked as the go-to between client and fashion icon, always in the background, never taking attention from the “boss.” In reality, Monica worked for me, playing the high-maintenance persona for my cover. I looked, dressed, and acted like a nerdy, super-conservative, mousy assistant. Nothing like my real-life, high-fashion persona of Anaya Anthony, baby sister to the international business moguls known as the Lykaios brothers.
“I heard Mrs. T was giving you trouble.”
The Trevolos were notorious for their over-the-top antics when it came to events. And Mrs. T, as the guard called her, wasn’t happy her gown was too snug for her to breathe. I’d warned her that after a baby it was better to go up in size, but she’d insisted she’d return to her pre-baby figure within a few weeks post delivery. Since I’d never had a child, I hadn’t argued too much, but the drama I’d dealt with earlier in the day made me wish I had. Then again, she was part of the notorious underworld duo who specialized in human assets for various purposes, many of which would turn anyone’s stomach.
“You could say that.” I wrung my hands together, trying to shy away from discussing my client. “It’s just part of the job.”
“I hear you. The Trevolos are demanding but pay well.”
“That is true. You wouldn’t happen to know where I could grab a snack, maybe some crackers? I just need something to hold me over.”
“I can do better. Come this way.” He gestured to his left. “Chef has a spread for the staff hidden in the butler’s pantry. Since Mrs. T is busy mingling, you won’t have to worry about any wardrobe malfunctions.”
“You’re a godsend,” I squealed with a bit more enthusiasm than I should have, playing into my awkward cover personality.
I let the guard direct me through the kitchen, past the back stairwell leading to the family wing, and toward the butler’s room.
“Feel free to eat your fill. You never know when you’ll get your next meal, especially if Mrs. T goes into full meltdown.”
“Thank you,” I whispered and grabbed a handful of almonds.
“Enjoy. Hopefully I’ll see you soon.” He inclined his head and left me to continue his duties.
I lingered for a few minutes, nibbling on nuts and cheese. The butler’s area was better than the kitchens of some of the best restaurants in the world. High-shine steel c
abinets and counters displayed the various food choices as if arranged for a photoshoot.
The Trevolos definitely knew how to build a house. Too bad their moral code was worse than the lowest scum of the earth. It had taken six months of investigating to get this far into their world. We had a contact on the inside of their operation who periodically fed us information, but I knew, as did my superiors, that unless I became one of the victims of their crimes, I’d never get truly close enough to take them down.
The world believed they were perfect, and they kept up that image to a T.
Once I’d wasted enough time, I casually made my way around the corner and up the back stairwell, strategically angling myself out of the security camera’s line of sight. From the blueprints I’d studied earlier in the day, I knew the server room was on the far right corner of the residential side of the second story.
I slipped off my heels just as I reached the wooden floor landing and tiptoed barefoot to my targeted room.
The sounds of laughter echoed down the hall, and I quickly slipped into the room.
“Fucking hell,” I murmured to myself. This wasn’t a server room for a house; it was the type found in the top tech companies around the world. The only reason the Trevolos would need something like this was to cover their tracks. This was always the way it was—those who publicly prided themselves for their philanthropy and charities were the ones involved in the most disgusting aspects of life.
My stomach knotted. This assignment was way bigger than any of us had anticipated. My gut said I needed to get the hell out of the mansion as soon as I finished my task.
Lifting the hem of my dress, I pulled off the tracers attached to my garter. It took me a little under three minutes to place the remote devices.
Taking a deep breath, I went to the door, cracked it a fraction, and took a look. Once I met up with Briana, I’d have to mentally and physically prepare for my “abduction.”
God only knew what I’d end up having to do to achieve my goal. I had to keep reminding myself it was worth it if I saved a single life.
Just as I moved to step outside, a hand grabbed me and shoved me against the wall.
“Not so fast, Ms. Anthony. I think it’s time we had a little conversation.”
My heart hammered into my head as I stared into a pair of angry emerald eyes that had haunted me for more nights than I wanted to admit. They were the irises of the man who’d broken the heart of the innocent girl I’d been and made me hate him to the point I had avoided any contact with him for over five years.
“Looks like I caught a little dove snooping in places she shouldn’t.”
I ignored his use of the pet name he’d given me when he’d discovered the dove tattoo I’d gotten on a trip to Bora Bora with my sister.
“Ia…Adrian. What the hell are you doing here?”
His grip tightened on my arm, and his six-foot-three, muscled body leaned closer to mine. “I should be the one asking you the same question, but I already know the answer.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I got lost. I thought this was the direction of Mrs. Trevolo’s dressing suite. I’m here to make sure everything is perfect for her.”
“Ana. Do not lie to me.” His words were laced with authority and irritation.
I narrowed my gaze. “I’m not. Check with the staff. I’ve spent the day putting out wardrobe fires.”
One of Adrian’s large hands moved to my throat. A prickle of awareness and arousal hit me as it had in the past when he’d touched me.
His pupils dilated, telling me he felt it too.
“Who do you work for?”
I couldn’t hide the surprise on my face. “Monica Malone.”
“Let me repeat. Who do you work for?”
“I think you’re delusional. I’m a marketing and design geek, remember? How do you think Penny gets all those designer gowns?”
Penny was my first cousin through our mothers and Adrian’s half sister on their father’s side. Penny was also married to my half brother. Our relationships were a sordid tangled mess, filled with so many scandals that it would boggle the mind. We were very Greek, as my half sister Henna liked to tell me.
Adrian gave a slight squeeze to my throat. “Ana, I’m going to ask you one more time, and if you lie to me, I’m going to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here and toss you on the next plane back to Las Vegas so your family can sort this out.”
I gave him a calculated grin. “I’d like to see you try.”
Adrian had no idea who he was dealing with. I’d laid men bigger than him on their ass. It was the first thing I’d learned in training. Let my opponent think he or she had the advantage. I wasn’t petite like my sister and Penny, but neither was I tall. I was an average five foot six.
“Your training isn’t going to work on me. I’ve been in the game longer than you.”
His words made my heartbeat accelerate. I stared into his eyes and realized I was in so much trouble.
“Who do you work for, Adrian? I’ve always known your computer-nerd, hacker persona was a cover for the other things you were into. No one can gather the type of data you seem to procure without government clearance.”
“Ian. Say it, Ana. That’s what you’ve called me since we were children.”
I narrowed my gaze. “I asked you a question, Adrian.”
“Stubborn,” he muttered under his breath before he said, “A cybersecurity expert the Trevolos hired to make sure only invited guests made it onto their property. Imagine my surprise when the facial recognition software labeled a woman whose face I’d recognize in any crowd, even with blond hair, as Anastasia Ashton, the lowly, hyper-shy assistant to Monica Malone instead of Anaya Anthony, the woman I’ve known since she was in diapers.”
“Now who’s lying?”
“Is this a game of tit for tat?”
I shoved at his chest, using a defensive move I’d practiced less than a few hours before and sending him back for a second. But he shifted too fast and had me pinned against the door with my arms above my head and his very aroused body pressed to the front of mine.
He felt so good against me, reminding me of things I had worked too hard to forget.
Damn him for making me want him.
Hell, who was I kidding? I never stopped wanting him.
He tsked. “First rule of training is to never let your guard down, even if you know your assailant.”
“I hate you,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “You’re definitely CIA. They’re always too cocky for their own good. I bet you fit right in.”
He didn’t deny my assessment. Instead he said, “And you’re Solon.”
I snorted. “Like in the Greek philosopher? I think you’ve lost your mind.”
“No.” He glared down at me. “I’m referring to the underground vigilante organization that regularly ignores international law in order to achieve its goals. The organization known for recruiting college students, training them to become human weapons, and sending them into situations that put them at risk for being kidnapped, if not killed.”
I remained quiet. Nothing I could say would change his belief.
God, how long had he known? Why hadn’t he ratted me out to my family? My career couldn’t end like this. I’d finally made it to lead. All I needed was another few years and I’d happily go back to Las Vegas and take over some of my family’s businesses.
I had to figure out a way to get Adrian to keep his mouth shut.
“Nothing to say, Ms. Anthony? I will blow your cover if you don’t stop. I refuse to be the one to tell your family that something happened to you.”
The determination on his face told me he would do exactly what he said. And that would bring a whole load of issues I wasn’t ready to deal with. My brothers, not to mention my sister, were overprotective on a good day. If they even had an inclination of what I was doing as my “real” job, they’d have me quarantined to Vegas with around-the-clock guards. It would
n’t matter that I was twenty-six years old. To them I was the baby, a child to be protected from the scandal of my illegitimate birth.
“And what about you? Do my brothers know you’re CIA?”
His lips curved. “As a matter of fact, they do. As does your sister. It helps them out on occasion, especially when it comes to vetting their business partners.”
“Dammit, Adrian, I won’t let you take my career from me. I’ve worked too long and hard.”
“And I won’t let you come home in a body bag.”
“Then let me finish my assignment. The longer you keep me in here, the more likely I’ll get caught.”
“I’m not stupid enough to think you’re going to actually become the marketing and social media expert you have your family believing you are.”
“I won’t apologize for what I do. Because of people like me, lives of countless women and children are saved.”
“I can say the same for myself, but unlike you, when I break the law, it’s approved by my government and won’t cause an international incident.”
This was the argument Solon agents had dealt with since the inception of the organization. Solon had no loyalty to any country and was funded privately through various donors throughout the world. It was run like a government security agency without the bureaucracy. Unlike what Adrian probably believed, Solon would go to hell and back to protect its agents. There was always a contingency plan.