An Ocean Between (Beachside Sweet Romantic Suspense Book 2) Read online

  An Ocean Between

  Beachside Sweet Romantic Suspense, Book 2

  Rimmy . London

  Copyright © 2018 by Rimmy . London

  Cover by Blue Valley Author Services

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  For my Family, with all my heart

  The adventure continues…

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Leaving Italy behind always left a spot in my heart that hurt, but this time was different. Givanni and I had somehow made it out alive—granted help from the US government. They’d known about our fight with the Italian Mafia, the IM, and had enough resources to pluck us from their grip. It was nothing short of miraculous. And yet, here we were—we’d barely stepped foot in the Los Angeles airport when policemen had surrounded us.

  They walked closer cautiously like we couldn’t be trusted—like we were the enemy. Didn’t they know we’d just fought against some of the most powerful underground criminals in the world?

  “Step away ma’am,” the police chief shouted. “This is your only warning!”

  Givanni’s uncle Marco stood apart from the crowd with his arm raised halfway. But his chance to warn us had already gone, and we were surrounded.

  I stepped in front of Givanni and tightened my hold on his wrists, refusing to let them rip him from my life. It was an unbalanced feeling to be facing off with officers sworn to uphold the law. How could they see us as criminals? My head swam even as I gave them a look of warning.

  Unlike me, Givanni was calm. “Loriel, please. I’m sure it’s a mistake.” His arms slid from my grip. “They’re just following orders.”

  I could only watch as he turned his back to the officers with his hands raised. They rushed in and gripped him by the sides, securing him like a true criminal.

  His steady eyes were unalarmed even as I felt my vision blur. “Try and contact Senator Boswik,” he breathed. “Marco can help you.” My face hardened at the name and his lips twisted into a smile. “Trust him, Loriel.”

  “You’re under arrest…”

  “For what?” I yelled, stepping towards the officer. “He’s done nothing to deserve this!” Two suits pulled me back a safe distance.

  The police chief hardly acknowledged my argument. “First-degree murder, ma’am,” he said briskly, only glancing at me for a moment before moving on. He pushed his prisoner even though it was unnecessary; Givanni still held no conflict in his stoic eyes. There was no time to argue before he was gone.

  The past two weeks had been a terrifying race through Italy. I’d fallen in love with him so many times in those fourteen days, but hadn’t let myself believe it—not until I’d seen the way he looked at me. Not until I’d heard the words I love you. Then it all made sense.

  And now it felt like the cops had taken the life from my chest when they dragged him away. My limbs hung heavy, leaving me sinking.

  “Are you okay Ma’am?” the last remaining officer asked softly.

  I looked into his dark eyes and saw youth and honesty. But I had the feeling that to get Givanni back I needed neither of those. The young officer in front of me had no idea who was really controlling this moment. All he knew was law and order. Civility. Rules. I studied him for a moment, seeing a mirror of who I was not long ago. My total ignorance of the many who hovered over us, forcing events like a godlike game of chess. I nodded and watched him walk away.

  A few remaining individuals eyed me curiously, chattering to each other about the excitement they’d witnessed—just another businessman gone wrong. Their days went on with a bit more to tell. But one boxy figure didn’t move. Instead, he leaned against the wall in his polished suit and watched me as quietly as he had watched them take his nephew away. Marco eyed me like an enemy. And I was supposed to trust him? I tried to wipe the glare from my face as he made his way forward.

  “I tried to get your attention, but—”

  “A little late for that Marco,” I returned.

  A thump came from behind us and we swung around in unison as Maxium barreled through the door. Rain trailed from his hair and down his face, but he paid it no attention.

  “What happened? Where’s Givanni?” he rushed. I grabbed his arm before he could collide with Marco.

  “He’s been arrested, Max,” I growled, holding onto the anger like a lifesaver. “Marco tried to warn us.” My eyes rolled as I spoke, the pathetic attempt of his little arm wave still in my mind.

  Max allowed me to hold him in place, but his words were directed at Marco. “Arrested for what?” His voice was shocked, still absorbing the last few minutes.

  I could feel my anger cracking into pieces, falling apart and revealing the despair underneath.

  “For murder,” Marco stated as if it should be obvious.

  Max stepped back suddenly, with the fight leaving his face—his attention turned to me. “Oh, Loriel,” he sighed. His arms tightened around me, and my knees suddenly buckled. “Whoa…” He held on, keeping me upright until I settled my feet under me again. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said.

  I pulled in a breath. “Do you know who?” I questioned, looking up at Max.

  “It has to be Callisto…” he whispered, glancing around us. “He was killed—by his own party.” He took one look at my questioning eyes and nodded. “He was one of the three leaders. The sole leader at one time. They no doubt wanted him gone and are using this to their advantage.” Max’s features were grim, like the battle was already finished.

  I swallowed hard, wondering how we could ever prove Givanni’s innocence with a group like that. No one would believe they existed in such strength. But, the quiet reality was darker than anyone knew. Those people in powerful places who hadn’t joined with them yet were becoming a rarity.

  “Were there any witnesses?” I asked, looking from one face to the next.

  Marco scanned our surroundings. “We shouldn’t talk here,” he breezed. “Let’s meet back at—”

  “My place,” interjected Maxium.

  Marco shifted his weight, clearly not happy with the idea. My lip twitched in irritation. No doubt he wanted a corporate office meeting, with the comfort of lawyers and voice recordings. Max paid no attention, and after a brief nod, he took the lead, charging ahead. We crammed into the back seat of a cab, with Marco on my right and Max on my left. I tried to give Marco as much space as possible.

  Max narrated directions to the driver, leading us down a street I had never been on—to a neighborhood I would never think to enter. Broken down apartments held bars on every tiny window. Dead grass cre
pt through each crack in the sidewalk, and metal garbage cans were bolted to the cement with large rusty chains. I hoped we would continue through it but we stopped dead center. Quietly, we followed Max into an upstairs apartment.

  Once inside, it was a struggle to keep from reacting to the filth. Each wall was patch-worked with a mix of cracks and dirt, with backdrops of faded graffiti. But this was nothing compared to the dust that sat in inches on the floor, caking the bits of clutter all around.

  “So this is where you… live?” I asked, trying not to appear too disgusted as I kept a safe distance from any wall or surface.

  Max chuckled, settling into the musty couch. “Not really, but it’s one of my locations,” he answered.

  I nodded halfway and remained standing, not sure what I would find if I attempted to clear a space among the garbage.

  Marco perched on the only barstool. “This isn’t going to be easy,” he grumbled, his hard eyes settling on me. “He hasn’t communicated with me at all about Callisto. I heard from another source.” I shrugged, wondering why Givanni would ever speak to Marco about anything important in the first place. But of all the people for me to trust, Givanni told me to trust him. My gaze flickered up as he continued. “They’re going to try to extradite him back to Italy. That we can be sure of.”

  “Extradite him?” Max yelled, throwing his arms in the air. “How? There’s no proof to what they’re saying. The first thing they would have to do is bring their facts up in front of a judge—“

  “They will do it.” Marco interrupted. “Don’t think for one second that you can quote the law to me and believe that it will be followed. You know how they work.”

  I expected to hear Max argue, and waited for it—wished for it. His voice was the voice of reason, but he stayed silent.

  “There might be a chance if we can find someone we can work with in the U.S. But…” Marco’s voice trailed away, his lack of confidence clear enough.

  “Let’s just get him out,” Max huffed. “If there are people we can trust we’ll find out soon enough.”

  “None of this makes sense,” I argued. “It’s not like they’re a clean group—they’re criminals! Why would they want to be in court? Why would they start a legal process?”

  There was silence around the room, and I could see something pass between Max and Marco—some unspoken fear that neither of them voiced.

  “Okay,” Marco finally spoke up, his voice stone. “I’ll see to getting him out. Whatever bail they’ve set, I’ll pay it. We need to meet with him here. Perhaps he can point us in the right direction. Let’s plan on 10:00 tonight.”

  As he spoke he turned to leave, apparently not requiring any kind of response. The door latch clicked and Max stared back at me silently. For once his face was unreadable, making it easy to see how successful he was undercover. But with a sigh, he softened.

  “He will be fine Ms. Lane,” His head tilted back. “Remember, he’s not a guilty man… yet.”

  * * *

  The evening passed painfully slow. Max was in his own private world, and I could tell it was the way he processed things. He brooded so deeply I expected to see smoke rising from his head at any moment.

  In the silence, I wandered through the small apartment, discretely trying to organize the clutter. But it was only a distraction for my tortured mind. Trying to put the pieces together was fruitless, and the more I thought about it, the more questions came. There was no way to know what reason they had for getting the law involved—it seemed the last thing the Italian Mafia would want to do. I stopped in my tracks as a thought hit me. I hoped I was wrong, but the idea was like a sliver, taking hold and steadily sinking deeper.

  What if they already had people on our side?

  What if they had infiltrated the police in this country the same way Max had gone successfully undercover to work with them?

  Footsteps drummed in the hallway and my head jerked up. I made for the door, but Max was in front of me in the next instant. The dark metal in his hand had my pulse racing.

  “Behind the counter,” he whispered, stepping forward with the confident strength that fit him so well. There was no knock, but after pressing against the door for a frozen moment Max swung it open, ushering two men in with a glance into the hall.

  The moment the deadbolt snapped, I stepped out from the kitchen to face Givanni. He seemed the one thing on earth that still made sense. But more emotions hit me than I knew what to do with. The urge to rush into his arms crushed my heart, but we’d only shared our feelings for each other hours earlier. Our relationship was so new, I felt my cheeks grow warm with Marco and Max glancing between us.

  Givanni’s reaction was unwavering. In two strides he held me to his chest, apologizing under his breath. “There’s something going on, Loriel,” he whispered. “I can’t put a finger on it. They didn’t’ even know the details of my arrest.” Marco’s voice began to drone on about an Italian underworld.

  We didn’t move, and Givanni’s head only lifted a little as he answered. “I know that Marco, but I think we need a different strategy this time.” He stepped back, tangling his hand around mine. “We can’t undercut them. It’s already hit the news—there’s nowhere to hide. They want me back in Italy, and I say we face them.”

  Max jumped up from the couch. “What, like in court? Are you crazy?” he argued, “Guys like us can’t go to court, Van. You know that. There are a million ways they could hang you.” My stomach twisted into a knot but Givanni only shrugged.

  “Yes, in court. The Italian government would be forced to acknowledge that the IM has returned. It almost seems too easy, like they’re handing themselves over. Why would they do this?”

  “The way I see it,” Marco said, seeming lost in thought as he spoke. “They are trying to take you down legally. You have your court date, you’ve posted bail. You are currently an innocent man awaiting your trial date in two weeks.” He looked up. “That’s our time limit. I agree with Max, you can’t be in court. So whatever we are going to do…” He shook his head, looking as unconvinced as before about our options. “We’d better do it quick.”

  Givanni sighed, rubbing one hand across his face, the effects of jet lag evident.

  “Let me just clear this up for all of you before you hear a fabricated story from someone else.” He kept ahold of my hand and we settled into the couch. Max and Marco stayed on their feet, alert. “ I went to the meeting house to try and bargain my freedom—the company’s freedom. Of the three leaders there,” Givanni glanced up, “you know them well. Callisto was the only one willing to cooperate. He’d been something of a friend of mine, but there was a sense of divide between them. I could feel it from the moment I entered, but it wasn’t until their difference of opinion that he was shot. I never saw the shooter, but that would hardly matter. It could be one out of a hundred.” He sighed. “I think we should talk to Senator Boswik.” There was silence around the room. “He was the one—”

  “Bad idea Van,” Max cut in. “Anyone who’s looking for a vote is out of the trustworthy category.”

  Marco nodded, and I could see their point.

  But Givanni continued. “He was the one who stopped them in Italy. He brought the government in. Our planes weren’t grounded. We didn’t have a single problem getting out of the country after one of the worst encounters we’ve experienced. That had to take a little effort.”

  My head tilted as I realized how much worse things could have been. It continued to dip until it ended up on Givanni’s shoulder, the lack of sleep finally reaching me. His warmth was hard to abandon, so I stayed, listening to their conversation even after my eyes had closed.

  “Van, I’m worried,” Max’s voice was hushed. “There’s too much at stake to offer yourself up so easily. What if Boswik’s been bought out and we walk right into their hands?”

  “I don’t think so,” Givanni’s thumb traced my hand. “I’ve known and trusted him for years. Besides that, he’s really our only connectio
n with the government.” His voice quieted as he turned to face Marco. “Let me talk to him, in confidence, and then we can at least know for sure one way or another. At least it’s a start.” Silence had my thoughts sinking deeper, reality swimming a little.

  “Talk to him,” Marco ordered. “Fly to D.C. tomorrow and meet with Boswik. Max and I will see what we can dig up here. Keep in touch every hour.” He glanced up. “Every hour.”

  Chapter 2

  Givanni was good at looking calm. I glanced at him again from under my lashes, sure he would react soon. We’d been kept waiting for almost an hour. The clicking of fake fingernails on a keyboard was starting to grate on me. I crossed my legs with a swish, glad I’d decided not to dress down as I gazed over the glittering room. The chandelier dripped with sparkling drops of crystal and a marble floor shone between thick rugs.

  Givanni sat back in his seat, and one hand smoothed the crisp fabric of his pants. His phone buzzed and he quickly sent a text, keeping in touch with Marco.

  My eyes swept the office again, this time drilling the receptionist and hoping for our eyes to meet so I could glare a reaction out of her. Givanni was much more subtle. His frozen stare could be taken for professionalism, and the slight jerk of his shoulders from time to time was hardly telling. To me his annoyance was obvious, but to anyone else…

  “Mr. Boswik will see you now,” the woman with fluffy hair said graciously, extending one hand toward the door in a dramatic sweep. Givanni thanked her, smiling wide as if we had waited only a few seconds.