The Boss Assignment (Rogue Protectors Book 3) by Victoria Paige (red scrolls of magic txt) 📗

the cup and rolled her eyes. “That’s your narcissism talking. Not everyone is impressed with this Latin-lover vibe you’ve got going.”

Antonio was actually offended. “Latin Lover?” What the fuck?

“Your suits?” Her mouth twisted and it wasn’t in amusement. “You had one in Mexico when the army was chasing us.” She snorted a laugh. “Only you forgot it when you heisted a car.”

“I was busy securing us a new ride.”

“You mean stealing one.

This was a conversation to be had while sitting. He took the leather armchair in front of her and carefully gripped its armrests so his fingers wouldn’t wrap around her throat. “I’m going to buy the owner of the Volvo a new one.” He shot her a look. “And I gave you instructions not to forget my suit jacket.”

“I had more important things to carry.” Her eyes squinted at him. “Which reminds me. Where’s my stuff?”

Antonio relaxed against his seat as she reminded him of their precious cargo. “Dr. Bennett …”

Sonya took that moment to walk up to them. This time the flight attendant had her professional face on. Thank fuck. His penchant for hiring people with an extra skill certainly didn’t extend to his inflight entertainment. Not that he indulged often, but he was a man who took what was offered when he wasn’t seeing a woman.

“Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Coffee for me, Sonya. Thanks.” He looked at the doctor. “You should eat something.”

“Do you have instant ramen?”

Antonio didn’t know what to make of that request. Didn’t she realize she was on a world-class jet?

“Uh, I … think,” the air hostess stammered. “Oscar has some, I believe.”

“Oh.” Her lips turned down. “I don’t want to steal from his stash.”

“Prieto shouldn’t be eating that sodium-laden garbage.” He slitted his eyes at the doctor. “And neither should you.”

“Wow. Does kidnapping me include prejudice against my diet?”

Sonya cleared her throat. “There’s Angus steak and potatoes.”

“Do you really want those damned instant noodles?” Antonio asked.

“Yes.”

“I’ll never understand how you can pass up a steak,” he mused. He told Sonya, “Heat it up.”

The air hostess was more than willing to escape the firing range.

“You’re supposed to be a doctor. How can you eat that shit?”

“When will people realize that doctors have the worst diets? We’re not nutritionists.”

“So why instant noodles?”

“Comfort food,” she chirped. “Sometimes that’s all a starving medical student can afford.”

Her words triggered something unpleasant inside him. It must have shown on his face for her delicate brow arched inquisitively.

“You have no idea what it means to starve,” he said.

The doctor’s face grew stricken. “I’m sorry, I—”

Antonio snorted. “The last thing I need from you is sympathy. Look around you. My wealth tells you how far I’ve come. What I need from you is cooperation.”

Her expression chilled. “I’m listening.”

“An abomination was manufactured in one of my labs and I intend to find out who did it. That person was in communication with someone called Charles Bennett.”

No surprise on her face. No guilt either, but she appeared to be contemplating what to say next. “And you assume that person was me.”

“I wasn’t expecting you. I was expecting a Charles Bennett. A man,” he said. “Obviously you tried to disguise who you are.” As soon as he stated his opinion aloud, it sounded lame. Because the maker of this abomination was smart and wouldn’t be stupid enough to use an alias so close to her name. That was a huge hole in his theory—that Dr. Bennett was the one in contact with the source of the original virus. There was also a possibility that it wasn’t created in one of his labs, but his company was being framed.

“When exactly did Benito Carillo get his hands on you?” he asked.

“You don’t know?” Dr. Bennett’s brows rose. “Right after Ortega died.”

He waited for her to say some more, but it didn’t look like she was. Antonio was surprised he had this much patience given it was like pulling teeth to get information out of her.

“That was also the time we lost track of the digital trail between Charles Bennett and Doctor Z.”

“Doctor Z?”

Antonio shrugged. “Since we don’t know who created the Z-91, that was a fitting code name.” He smiled grimly. “I was hoping you’d help us solve the riddle of who is Doctor Z.”

She gave a shake of her head. “That’s assuming I’m Charles Bennett which I’m telling you now, I’m not. It’s been nine months. You don’t have a lead?”

Antonio shook his head. “Not a pin drop since Carillo put the virus up for sale on the dark web, bragging about acquiring the scientist who successfully synthesized the mutation—bragging …” he gritted. “That it was a superior version to the one manufactured in my lab.”

Dr. Bennett cocked her head and Antonio didn’t like the way she regarded him, neither did he like the words that followed. “Is this about ego? Whose lab and brains are capable of creating a better bioweapon?”

“Do not twist my words,” he snapped.

“I’m not twisting anything. It was the way you said them.”

Antonio replayed what he said in his head. Damn her. “It wasn’t what I meant.”

“Noted.”

Tamping down his irritation, he continued, “There was an encrypted message sent to a Charles Bennett right after that.”

“What did the message say?”

“To contact him.”

“And did you try?”

“No.”

“I still don’t get how I’m supposed to help you flush out this traitor.”

“An effective bioweapon generates much interest among arms dealers,” Antonio said. “Not the run-of-the-mill kind. We’re talking about sophisticated bioterrorists intent on causing a cluster of infections and holding a city ransom.”

Her brows furrowed. “The one that Carillo was interested in has an attenuated transmission rate. I don’t think it would cause a cluster of infections unless a person has been exposed to the virus short of ingesting it.”

This took Antonio by surprise and he leaned back against his seat. “Are you sure?”

“Not without testing. Carillo didn’t have the facility to do this safely. But from computerized models—yes.”

Antonio paused for a beat, thinking. Finally, he said. “Doesn’t matter. It’s still a threat