Broken Promise (The Broken Series Book 3), page 1
ABOUT BROKEN PROMISE
I am the ghost that haunts your dreams. I am a liar, a protector … a killer… I am death.
You think you know my story, but you have no idea. My death was just the beginning. In the years since I escaped the shadow organization that owned me, my vow to protect my family is the only thing keeping me alive.
Until I meet her.
Too bad I need the monster to protect her from the demons of her past.
Too bad she’s not that innocent.
BROKEN PROMISE
M. MALONE
NANA MALONE
CONTENTS
Part I
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
Part II
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
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
About the Authors
Also by M. Malone
Also by Nana Malone
PART 1
CHAPTER ONE
Rafe
It was safer not to dream.
It was safer to sleep the sleep of the dead. Where you put your head down and you didn't wake up again until your alarm.
Those were the easiest nights. But tonight was not one of those.
Hell, there were some nights where I would have paid a King's ransom, would have robbed the whole bank just to have a normal dream. The kind with a happy ending or one where I could fly?
Nope.
My brain had zero interest.
Instead, something deep down in my psyche wanted to explore all the mistakes I'd ever made. To play them ad nauseam, ad infinitum until I went deep down into that rabbit hole of different choices. Different paths I could have taken.
My brain enjoyed a full cinematic replay of my worst screw-ups, with Dolby surround sound and 4K resolution.
Lucky me.
I tossed and turned, my mind in a constant state of turmoil. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face. The face of the girl who had changed everything. I tried to push the memories away, to block them out, but they kept coming.
The nightmare du jour was the Vandergraff mission. After all this time that name still tasted like broken glass every time it danced on my tongue.
And like every nightmare ever known to mankind, there was no stopping the show before it was done. There was no hopping off the ride before the last stop. All I could do was endure. The sweat popping on my brow, my gut clenching, part of my brain desperately trying to tell the other one that this wasn't real. It was a memory. A false memory. But it still felt like I was back there that night. In that mansion.
I was young, new to the game, and more than a little cocky. I mean, what young, adrenaline-fueled government-sanctioned assassin isn't? The mission was simple: take out Dieter Vandergraff, human trafficker, arms dealer, and terrorist.
As it turned out, 'simple' was a gross overestimation.
My mind’s eye was desperate to look away from what it knew was coming but all I could do was watch as I slipped through the shadows, like a ghost. A shadow within shadows.
I was the guy they brought in when they needed someone who could be unseen. Unheard.
I was the guy who was invisible.
Until the moment when I wasn’t.
The girl standing there was a doe-eyed teenager, with dreams probably as pure as fresh snow. How was I to know she'd be home? My intel had said Vandergraff’s daughter would be out of the house.
Yet, there she was, just in time to catch me transforming her father from the 'living' to 'no longer a problem' category.
I started to shake as I tried to mentally look away.
But the memory wouldn't let me. It replayed the scene like a broken record, taunting me with the consequences of my actions. The girl had screamed, begged for her father's life, and I had frozen. It was supposed to be a clean hit, an easy way to eliminate a monster from the world. But in that moment, I had seen the human in him. I couldn't bring myself to pull the trigger on an innocent girl.
Her eyes... God, those eyes. They flashed wide, full of unspeakable horror and fear. It was like I'd personally shoved her out of innocence and into this damned nightmare. Her scream split the silence, the sound searing itself into my memory.
The look in her eyes still haunted me, a reminder of the toll my actions could take, even when they were for the greater good.
The memory played out in my mind, over and over again, until I was drenched in sweat and gasping for air. It was safer not to dream, but it was impossible to stop the nightmares. They were a part of me, just like the memories that haunted me every waking moment.
My eyes snapped open, wrenching me from the hellish past. My heart pounded like a jackhammer in my chest, my shirt sticking to my skin, heavy with cold sweat. The shrill ring of my phone ripped through the predawn silence, echoing the rhythm of my heartbeat.
The screen flashed with what I knew was an FBI number. Former boss. Former life. You don't need caller ID to know who's calling at 3 a.m. when you're an ex-agent. They didn't even try to be subtle.
"Rafe," the voice on the other end was terse. Alan Granger wasn’t known for making pleasantries. "We need you in for questioning."
Questioning? It had been years since I'd done any undercover work. Years since a mission had gone wrong and I'd been forced to fake my death. We were good though. Those cases were closed. What could possibly be so important to warrant a middle of the night call?
The past has a knack for showing up at your doorstep when it's least welcome. Just like an uninvited guest, or a nightmare that likes to visit.
"Isn’t it past your bedtime?" I muttered.
“Justice doesn’t sleep, DeMarco. Get your ass in here.”
I glowered at the clock. “What? Right now?”
“Yeah. I have questions that only you can answer and it won’t keep.”
As I hung up, I shoved back the sheets, wondering which corner of the world was on fire now.
“It seems our old friends at Interpol want you back.”
I lounged against the far wall of the intake room. After all this time I should have been used to rooms with no windows but being underground still made me a little itchy.
“What can I tell you, Alan? I’m a likable guy. But no thanks. I like being a civilian. You know, drinking pumpkin ass-tasting lattes or whatever at Starbucks.”
My handler didn’t seem impressed with my jokes. “Can you be serious for a moment?”
I forced my shoulders to relax. Normally everyone was telling me to loosen up. I used to be a company man, followed the rules to the letter.
But hello, disenchantment, my old friend.
I didn’t miss this. The secrecy, the hiding out. I still checked in every week like clockwork out of habit. Because there were active cases I had worked on for years and even though I was a Blake Security man now, I wanted to see those cases play out. Thankfully that was coming to an end.
I’d given my family up for the job. Well, no more. I was done doing favors. I had Lulu back now. I wasn’t getting dragged back into some undercover gig.
Right about now, I was in the zero-fucks-to-give category. Besides, it would be next to impossible to make undercover work for me. I was never leaving Lulu vulnerable again. It had been an overly interesting year already.
It wasn’t like Noah wasn’t strong enough or deadly enough to protect my sister. But they’d just gotten their lives started, and I didn’t want to bring trouble to their door. Not that trouble didn’t seem to find them anyway.
Or at least that was how I rationalized it. “You’ve got my full attention.”
“Glad to hear it. Right now we’ve got problems from an old friend of yours.”
The inner killer, the part of myself I kept chained up in the dungeon of my brain, started to stretch out.
Easy. We don’t do that anymore.
“What now?” I rolled onto the balls of my feet. Ready, poised for action. And that was the underlying problem.
I was always ready.
Always poised for action.
Truth be told, I wasn’t sure I could do normal. What kind of woman wanted a guy who was always ready for a fight… or worse? I knew from my sister’s experience that the kind of physical security required for a relationship with someone like me was stifling.
“Do you remember the Vandergraffs?”
Oh hell. Did I ever remember them. As much as I tried to forget, there was no shoving them out of my mind.
Those dark eyes looking up at me.
“Yes, of course I remember them.”
Dieter Vandergraff had been a sanctioned hit. The CIA had farmed out the job to ORUS. It had been part of a joint task force effort to see which organization could get the closest. Of course, my former employer had been the one to get it done.
I’d been the one to get it done.
“What about them?”
There was a knock at the door and Alan called out, “Come in.”
“Alan, sorry I’m late.” The woman turned her attention my way. “Agent DeMarco? Long time no see.”
Oh shit. Emilie. How long had it been since I’d seen her?
The woman standing on the other side of the room had long hair in such a deep red color that I’d always doubted it could be real. She was pale and statuesque, with the kind of curvy figure and impossibly small waist that usually had men’s tongues hanging out. Her eyes were dark, and shaded by delicate, fluttery lashes. She was beautiful. I acknowledged the fact in a distant fashion, but when our eyes met, I felt nothing but wariness.
Emilie Durand was the type of woman who could cut your throat and have you smiling throughout the entire thing.
Dangerous.
“Rafe, you remember Interpol Agent Emilie Durand?”
There was nothing in Alan’s voice to indicate hostility, but I got the distinct impression that he wasn’t too fond of the woman in question. And I understood why.
“Agent Durand.”
“Nice to see you again, Agent DeMarco.” Emilie held out her hand, and I shook it quickly, pulling back when she held on a moment too long.
Ah, that is going to be a problem, I thought when I registered the look of interest in her eyes. She wasn’t even bothering to hide the fact that she was ogling me. Some things never changed.
“Can you bring me up to speed?” I directed the question at Alan, but Agent Durand was the one who answered.
“Since Dieter Vandergraff’s death, the family has mostly been quiet. Small-time gigs. We primarily allowed the Austrian authorities to deal with them in whatever manner they saw fit. But it looks like they’ve gotten into bed with the Russian mob. And they’ve ramped up their father’s old business pursuits and have started making a nuisance of themselves in a major way.”
I scowled at the thought of Dieter Vandergraff’s sons. At the time I’d taken out their father, they’d been younger, small-time thugs. They certainly hadn’t been strong enough or powerful enough to take over their father’s empire. Their organization should have withered away, but they’d apparently proved more resilient than any of us had predicted.
“What do you want from me?” I prayed the answer would be nothing. It was the only job that still haunted me after all these years.
Those dark eyes.
I’d left one crucial fact off my original report. Dieter’s daughter. Our intel had said she wasn’t supposed to be at the house. I knew what was in the ORUS playbook for such events and as an FBI agent on a joint task force team with the CIA and Interpol, I should have put her in the report. But I hadn’t.
That omission might be coming back to bite me in the ass now.
I had taken her to a closet and told her to stay quiet. And she’d been so terrified she did exactly as I asked. I wasn’t sure why I’d left her off the report. The Feds and Interpol would’ve hardly expected me to harm a civilian.
The CIA was a different game. They were almost as brutal as ORUS. So I’d stayed silent about her presence there.
“Interpol has issued a red notice for the Vandergraffs. They’re implicated in a massive human trafficking operation that covers most of Western Europe. Of course, they’ve been on several countries’ radar for decades now, as I’m sure you’re aware, but they were always very careful to keep their tracks clear.”
I ignored the look she sent my way when she said as I’m sure you’re aware since she’d obviously seen the files relating to our previous operation in Austria. Having been deep undercover with ORUS at the time, my files at the FBI wouldn’t have revealed that I was the one responsible for the hit on Dieter Vandergraff, but I figured she could guess. She seemed like the type to read between the lines. Exactly what I didn’t need.
“So they’re here. In New York?”
“Yes, so we all need to be on alert. Likely they’re not here for vacation. They want something.” Alan finally pushed away from the wall and walked closer. Although he’d included us both when he spoke, I was pretty certain the message was for me.
“You think they know we’re working on a case against them?”
Alan nodded. “No doubt they’re building up their contacts here in North America because they’re on the radar of law enforcement agencies in so many countries in Europe. With their contacts, they could easily take up new identities in the States and start an entirely new criminal enterprise here. They just need funds and to partner with the right organization. They appear to be having financial problems.”
That took me by surprise. The Vandergraffs had always been a different level of wealthy. I whistled. I couldn’t imagine blowing through that kind of money in ten lifetimes.
“What do you think prompted the sudden move? Surely they could have found ways to make money in Europe.”
Emilie smiled. “Perceptive. They’re after the Jewel of the Sea.”
I frowned. “Am I supposed to know what that is?”
She slipped a photo over to me of a brilliant diamond. “This is the Jewel of the Sea. It’s worth over $25 million now. It’s a Vandergraff family heirloom from their mother. She was some kind of countess or something. She came from an old family name without much liquid wealth but with a title and lands and all that jazz. That diamond is passed on from mother to daughter. It vanished right around the time of Dieter Vandergraff’s death.”
And there it was—the tickle along the nape of my neck that told me all was not right with my fucked-up world.
I kept my voice even when I asked again, “So, what do you want from me?”
“Everything you have on them. Comb your old files. If these two are here, it’s problematic for all of us.”
I gave her a sharp nod. “I’ll look through what I have and give ORUS a call. Most of the files you’re after would have been under the old leadership and not available to us. But I’ll ask.”
For now they didn’t need to know that I already had access to those files.
Emilie gave me a smile that was all teeth. She didn’t trust me. Well, that goes both ways, sister.
“You do that. Before you go though, are you sure you were entirely forthcoming about that night you were there?”
So it was like that? Good thing I’d been trained to do nothing but lie. After all, survival depended on it. “Absolutely. You know what I know.”
She nodded. “Okay then, I’d love to take a look at whatever files you can dig up. You know, fresh eyes and all that.”
The hell I’d give her ORUS files without redacting them first. Interpol had been less than successful trying to get in with ORUS. Since the new leader was currently an ally of sorts, I sure as shit wasn’t giving Emilie Durand her in.
“Of course. If we’re done, I’m out.”
She slid her glance over me again. “I understand that you’re pseudo retired. Care to share what you’re up to these days?”
I grinned. “Nope.” Turning my attention back to Alan, I nodded. “I’ll get you what you need.”
As soon as the elevator opened on the top floor of Blake Security, my attention was diverted by the sight of Lucia holding my niece.
When she saw me, Lucia let out a little squeal that startled the baby.
“Rafe! You’re here. I didn’t know you were coming.”
I grinned, unable to conceal the thread of pure joy that wrapped around my throat every time I saw her. Especially now, seeing her all grown up and so happy. She’d been a sweet kid who had grown into a lovely woman. And now she was a mother.
