Page 27 of Bad Decisions

“I beg to differ, and I’ve got the scar to prove it.” It might have been a minor injury considering the dangers in our line of work, but it pissed me off, nonetheless.

Another of Parker’s low chuckles is released, drifting across to me on the light sea breeze, and a contented sigh slips from my mouth.

This would be a lonely life if I didn’t have my buddies to hang out with like this. We arrived in Capri early this morning on a private jet along with our billionaire client, Antonio Barbieri. He and his brother Gio have been dealing with escalating threats to their lives and those of their families. But when Antonio was attacked in Naples by a trio of professionals, they decided they needed more than just a local security firm to protect them. We were recommended by mutual friends, and right about now, I’m damn happy to be here.

“Toughen up, cupcake,” my friend eventually manages to mutter. “But I do agree, give me security and protection duties for a billionaire any day over an asshole politician or prissy princesses.”

“I vote at our next team meeting that Ben gets all the divas.”

“I’ll second that.”

We fall silent, simply enjoying the rare quiet moment of downtime. It doesn’t last long when Parker’s phone pings with a notification, and we both sit upright.

“Looks like our break is over. Antonio and his wife Lucia are on their way back to the villa,” he says, and already he’s jumping up with his fingers still flying over the screen, replying.

“I’ll do another sweep of the property if you want to go meet them at the gates,” I say, getting to my feet.

He gives me a sharp nod of acknowledgment before walking through the balcony doors. Words aren’t required because we both know exactly what we need to do. It’s what we do best: protecting the people who pay us to keep them safe.

But in this case, our client has become our friend, and that makes this job personal. Nothing can be left to chance, which means we check and recheck all the points of vulnerability as many times as it takes, and I go to do just that.

It’s after midnight when Parker and I next speak. The house is dark and quiet. We’ve checked all the cameras, front and back, and spoken with the three local guards walking the property perimeter.

“All good?” I ask out of habit, already knowing everything looks normal.

“I don’t like the sound of this guy,” Parker says, glancing up from his cell. Ben had emailed through an update on the guy they suspect is orchestrating the threat campaign.

“Me neither. Desperation can make a white-collar criminal more dangerous than the most hardened professional criminal. And this guy is running out of options with the warrant issued for his capture.”

At least now we know who’s behind all the threats, and while the slippery fucker has gone to ground, we’ll remain on high alert. Especially since there are links to the Mafia in Naples.

“Cornered fuckers are the worst. I’ll leave you to it, then.”

I’ve got the first shift monitoring the cameras, and as I spin my chair to face the bank of screens, movement on the left perimeter camera catches my eye.

“Hey, wait. There’s someone moving near the side gate where the path leads down to the beach.”

“And would provide access to the far end of the balcony.”

Parker leans over my shoulder as I adjust the camera angles on that side of the building. “Isn’t that where one of the local security guys is?”

We switch the screen to the other camera on that side of the villa, and the two local guards are leaning against the brick wall, smoking cigarettes. “And that’s why I hate using locals,” Parker growls, moving the computer mouse to pick up different angles.

Black-and-white footage from the balcony camera fills the main screen. “Fuck, there’s someone outside the bedroom doors.”

“I’ve got the outside,” Parker announces before taking off at a sprint.

We worked together for years in the Rangers, and even though it’s only been months since I joined him at the firm, we’ve not forgotten any of that training. We know exactly what to do and where we need to be. The trip to South America proved our instincts have not become rusty.

Parker will circle around the north side of the villa and come up from behind, while I go directly to Antonio and his wife. We don’t want to scare the intruder until we know we’ve got him cornered. I fire off a quick message to the local guards to hold their positions until we give the command. We don’t need them to cause confusion.

I put in my comms and check Parker can hear me before I silently make my way up the internal tiled stairs. Earlier today, I walked through the villa, memorizing the interior layout. Every room, door, window, and cupboard, checking locks and removing any potential obstacles so I could easily navigate my way even in the dark.

And when I reach the upstairs hallway and crouch outside the bedroom, Parker’s voice comes through on the comms. “One man at the balcony door.”

Swish, bump. The faint sounds of movement come from the other side of the door. It sounds like Antonio is awake. I send him a text.

Me: I’m outside the bedroom door and coming in.