Free Operation Heartbreaker by Christine Thomas

driver.
    The woman nodded. “Montparnasse.”
    At least they were on their way into the French capital. Now they needed a place to stay, the Meurice was no longer an option. Those guys had been waiting at the airport, so they certainly knew which hotel they were supposed to stay.
    Julie grabbed the tablet, goggled Paris hotels and reserved a room at Le Bristol . Her sassy grin told Ally that they were in trouble.
    Well, even more of it.
    “What’s going on?”
    “Nothing.”
    Yeah, right. “Spit it out!”
    “I’m just happy to be in, well, Paris and stuff.”
    That leaves the question what the heck they were doing here. Sightseeing was most likely not on their program. Which left the interview.
    Ally internally shook her head. Who was she kidding? With that mess in her backpack, chatting with Viktor was the last thing on her mind.
    The adrenaline kick in the terminal had a curing side effect,
    and knocked her out of her state of shock. As soon as they were in the hotel they would pick the last secrets from the MacBook. They would find Cole’s hideout and… and…
    Her guts tightened. Was it really possible that CP was her father? So far she hadn’t had the opportunity to think it over. If her parents were still alive, why had they left her to grow up with her…with David? It made no sense. She hoped they would be able to secure more information from the saved data. To be honest, she wasn’t really interested in this creepy secret project. She wanted to get more information about her parents. Who were they and where were they hiding?
    “Man, I can’t believe it. This guy’s first name is Andrea. His parents must hate him.”
    Ally looked over to her friend who was inspecting several credit cards.
    “How did you get these?”
    “From Don Giovanni and his pal at the airport. The girls were practically ripping their leather jackets into pieces. Anybody could have robbed them. They can be lucky it was us. But, Geez, Andrea? Wait a minute. Isn’t the opera guy called that?”
    “Who?”
    “Andrea Broccoli.”
    “Bocelli!”
    “Isn’t he gay?”
    Although she didn’t want to, she had to laugh. “You’re nuts!”
    This was getting better and better. They could now add credit card fraud to their long list of delinquencies. At the end of  their trip the FBI would probably be at their heels. Or Interpol. Or both.
    “You’ve got to become gay with a name like that. Just imagine Marc’s parents calling him Marcy.”
    “Shut up!“ Ally replied, biting her lip to suppress a laugh.
    “Never mind,” Julie muttered. “At least this way the chick at the reception won’t give us a hard time.”
    “What do you mean?”
    Julie fluttered her eyelashes. “Don’t I look like Andrea Broccoli?” As if on cue, they broke into a snort of laughter.
     

05
     
    Viktor Iwanow entered his office, took off his two thousand Euro jacket and threw it to the ground like a rag. After reaching his desk, he grabbed his phone and pressed One for the head of security.
    He was fuming. How in hell did the Italians get wind of Ally’s rebooking? And how the fuck had they known about her trip at all? This wasn’t a matter of the rivaling families of Paris.
    The French capital was split in two. One half belonged to Enzo di Lorenzo, the head of the Italian mafia. The other belonged to Sergej Iwanow, leader of the Vory V Zakone , which, at the bottom line, means something like Thieves in the Law. Both parties were spying on each other unscrupulously. After all, it was always good to know what one’s opponent was planning. In their business surprises were as welcome as search warrants.
    To outsider, Viktor wasn’t involved in the family business. But being the son of the biggest bastard in the history of France, didn’t come without consequences. Even though his dad had done everything in his power to keep him out of it. That’s one of the reasons why Viktor had grown up in Saint Petersburg, London and Switzerland. Everywhere but