The Boss Assignment (Rogue Protectors Book 3) by Victoria Paige (summer beach reads .TXT) 📕

be the housekeeper of this ridiculous, expansive house and its seemingly endless hallways. At least it felt that way. Oscar followed her and Ida as the latter led her to her room. Apparently, Charly wasn’t to be left to her own devices.

The housekeeper was a stern-looking black woman, maybe mid to late forties. She had a high forehead and an elegant neck. She was slender, wearing a dress that reached her ankles and imprinted in colors that reminded Charly of a sunset. Ida was almost as tall as Oscar. The whole lot of people Charly had run into so far treated her with stone-faced civility as if she were a prisoner being marched through a firing squad to her doom. Except her doom happened to be a bedroom located at the corner of one of the wings of the house. As they passed several doors, she noticed some of them had locks on the outside.

“How many prisoners does Antonio keep?”

“Not many,” Ida replied, unlocking her cell—or rather her room.

“That was a joke,” Charly said.

Ida smiled tightly. “I wouldn’t be joking about your situation. Our loyalty is to Senhor Andrade. Remember that.”

“Stop scaring Dr. Bennett.” Oscar walked ahead of them and opened the curtains. “The chefe is willing to give her a chance.”

Charly wanted to point out that it wasn’t much of a chance or a choice. It was an or else.

The afternoon sun bathed her room in warm light and she gave it a good look. It wasn’t a big room and it had a double bed with plain white sheets. There was a desk and a lamp. She had her own bathroom. She felt like one of those intellectuals who were put in prison for their ideals. Give them a desk, a pen and paper, and let them write their essays on how to fix society, but keep them locked up.

Shopping bags and boxes on the floor drew her attention.

“Renata bought you some clothes,” Ida informed her.

“How did she know my size?”

Oscar rubbed a finger over his mouth to disguise a grin.

“Let me guess,” Charly said. “Antonio is a womanizer and is, therefore, an expert in guessing women’s sizes.”

“Dinner is at seven,” Ida told her. “Rest. It looks like we’re going to have a full house tonight.”

“Mr. Andrade wants to see you in his office in an hour,” Oscar said, contradicting the housekeeper. “Does that give you enough time to get ready?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll come back for you in forty-five minutes.”

Charly watched the door close and heard the lock turn from the outside.

She turned around to face her room.

Twenty-four hours ago, she thought she was going to see the United States again. They were American agents who rescued them, right? And from what she made out, they were CIA. So, how did she end up further away from the U.S.?

If and when she got out of this place, she seriously needed to rethink her profession. It seemed everyone was gunning for the virologist.

She almost escaped Carillo once. She’d almost been free.

She stayed for the greater good.

The greater good stranded her in cartel hell for nine months.

She didn’t even know who was in charge anymore.

But one thing she did know was that Antonio Andrade was on the CIA’s radar. This might be an opportunity to make things right, clear her name, and find the real culprit of this bioweapon madness.

If anything, that directive inside of her hadn’t changed. She was where she needed to be to stop the people who intended to set the deadly virus on the loose and more successful if she was indeed at the source.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Antonio eyed his friend over the rim of the glass of brandy. Luis Vasquez had been his friend and mentor for twenty-five years. Antonio rarely drank during the day. He dropped his gaze to the amber liquid before taking a sip. But after the events of the past thirty-six hours, he deserved the entire bottle, especially for not losing his temper with the stubborn doctor.

“Not sure what you mean, old friend,” he replied.

Renata was the only other person in the room, but she was off to the side, staring at the scenery through the window, partaking of a glass of wine.

“Don’t give me that, amigo,” Luis said. Antonio had a healthy respect for the man standing before him. At sixty-two, with a wiry frame and a shock of gray hair sprinkled sparsely with black, one wouldn’t believe that he used to be Andrade Organization’s most feared hitman … that was when the company dabbled in organized crime until a three-year war pulled it out of that world and into more legitimate business. Now they were simply Andrade Industries whose main subsidiary, Anriotech, had labs and pharmaceutical companies all over the world.

“Kidnapping that doctor and forcing her to work for you will have repercussions.”

“What makes you think I abducted her?”

“Enough! Stop deflecting!” Luis slapped a palm on the table for emphasis. “I looked the other way when Andrade Industries started manufacturing the XZite pills. I looked the other way when you brought Miss Dumont to mule them for you—”

“Actually, that was Renata,” Antonio pointed out.

The woman in red turned from the window and regarded him with amusement. “I merely introduced Claudette and told you of her connections to Hollywood. I didn’t expect you to hook up with her.”

“And now the woman is in jail,” Luis reminded them.

“She deserved it for kidnapping and swapping babies,” Renata said, looking unapologetic and sipping her wine. “I mean, who does that?”

That whole story about his former lover was almost like a Mexican telenovela.

“She has disappeared into the U.S. penitentiary system,” Antonio said. “None of my contacts know where she is. Which means the CIA is keeping her hidden for a reason.”

Luis’ brows furrowed. “You think they still suspect you of creating the bioweapon?”

“Not sure, but they seem inclined to work with us to find out who did it.”

“It could be a trap,” Renata said.

Antonio smiled. “You think that thought didn’t cross my