Page 43 of Desert Wind

“Fuck me,” muttered Ghost. “Everyone, gear up beneath your suit. Don’t leave anything behind. That includes the wives.”

“What shall I tell Madame St. Martine?” asked the concierge.

“Tell her that we reject her early arrival. We will be there at the appropriate time.”

“Sir, I’m not sure–”

“I don’t give a damn if you’re sure. We are sure. We will arrive at her chateau at the appointed time,” said Nine.

“Yes, sir.”

Two hours later, the group stood in the lobby, ready to depart. The women looked positively stunning with their evening attire and jewels and were gorgeously styled for the event.

The men didn’t look so bad either. All were wearing custom-made suits that only served to highlight their amazing shapes.

“Mine is tight,” frowned Tailor.

“Me too,” said Alec.

“That’s because neither of you listens to me about diet,” said Lena. “You’ve put weight on.”

“Babe, it’s all muscle,” smiled Tailor.

“You will never learn. Stay away from the sweets table tonight,” she frowned.

“But, honey,” he called, following her to the cars. Although they had the large van, they were going to arrivein style, renting multiple limousines to carry the group to the chateau.

“I’m so nervous,” said Jenna, wringing her hands in her lap. Aislinn reached for her, holding her hands as she smiled.

“It’s alright,” she started. A momentary look passed over her face, and she pulled back.

“Babe? Aislinn, are you okay?” asked Kane.

“S-someone. Someone is going to try and hurt her tonight,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry. Did you say something?” asked Jenna.

“She’s just getting a little headache,” said Kane. “Did everyone hear that?”

He got the confirmation that all those on comms heard Aislinn’s prediction. A prediction that was never wrong.

Jenna excitedly looked out the windows as the chateau came into view. Even the team was impressed at the size and scope of the massive home.

“Holy shit,” muttered Alec. “That’s more of a castle than a chateau. The St. Martines definitely like their luxuries.”

The women were carefully helped from the vehicles, lining up to enter the chateau. When the enormous double doors opened, Claudia St. Martine stood waiting, frowning at them.

She wore a gold sequined dress, a massive yellow diamond hanging from her neck. On her ears were matching pendant earrings and, gracing her head full of white hair, a crown.

“A fucking crown,” mumbled Gaspar. “Who the hell does she think she is?”

“As I recall,” she said through tight lips, “I asked to meet my alleged daughter privately an hour ago.” Jenna said nothing, staring at the woman.

“And as I recall,” said Gaspar, “I told you she would not be alone at this event. We just flew in, and everyone needed rest and time to dress for your grand ball.”

“Still defiant,” she growled, staring at Gaspar.

“If you’ll excuse me,” said Jenna, walking closer. “All I wanted was to meet my biological mother. I don’t want anything from you.”

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