Read Remy's Release [Submissive Sirens] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) for Free Online

drew a deep breath and mustered up her courage. “You should know I’ll have your balls if you hurt my friend. Sir.”
    Another long silence, this one so long Remy thought Gabriel had hung up the phone. “Duly noted. Good night, Miss Park.”
    The phone went dead in Remy’s hand, but not before she had the insane impression that Gabriel Hartley approved of her.
    As she replaced the phone in its cradle, Remy was struck by the odd thought that it looked like Jessie was going to get her happy ending, and it was going to be even happier than she’d planned. For now, Remy thought wryly, Jessie just had to survive what was likely going to be the spanking of a lifetime.
    Remy was jolted out of her reverie by the sound of footsteps approaching the kitchen. Judging by the noise they were making, all three triplets would be through the door in a matter of moments, and Remy took the opportunity to steady herself. She took deep breaths, willed her pussy not to cream, and told that voice, for the umpteenth time, to shut the hell up. She clutched her cup of tea like a lifeline as Knox, Joss, and Drake came through the door. Her glance went from the triplets’ serious faces to the missive in Knox’s hands. None of the triplets were smiling, and all three of them looked cool and professional. Remy set her teacup down and turned back to her team. She knew those looks. “What’s the job?” she asked.
    “Intel.” Drake’s answer was curt. “Wheels up in thirty.”

Chapter 5
     
    Remy sat on a sofa in their suite, reading her copy of the file they’d been given. As jobs went, this one was fairly standard. Low risk, little to do apart from gathering the required information and turning it over to their contact at the UN so the appropriate people could decide what to do with it. Bile rose in her throat as she reread the profile of the fucker they were after—a French arms dealer named Pierre Contois. He was responsible for providing munitions to Columbian cartels, African child armies, and homegrown terrorist cells in the US. As far as Remy was concerned, she thought it was too bad they had only been hired to gather intel and not to take the asshole out.
    “Are you done with the file?” Drake stood above her, holding the triplets’ copies in his hands.
    “Yes, thank you.” Remy handed Drake her file, having committed it to memory on the flight to Monaco.
    Drake carried all four files to the fireplace in the corner of the suite’s sitting room and tossed them onto the grate. Joss had been tending a small fire for the last twenty minutes, making sure it had enough life to erase the reason for their trip to Monaco.
    Remy watched as the fire crackled and burned, eating up the photos and memos contained in the files. She really wished someone had thought to bring marshmallows. She loved toasting marshmallows.
    “So.” Drake had resumed his previous seat on an overstuffed ottoman, his massive frame somehow managing to dwarf the piece of furniture. “Are we all good with what we’re doing tomorrow night?” Each of them had a part to play, and it was Drake’s job to make sure they knew their parts inside out, backward and forward, standing on their heads if necessary.
    Remy took a deep breath and felt a sense of calm settle over her. She embraced the calm as part of her professional persona, knowing she would do whatever it took to get the job done. “You and I go to Contois’s party tomorrow night. We are a wealthy American couple who have been stupid enough, I mean generous enough, to contribute to his philanthropic efforts, which have nothing to do with the abduction and brainwashing of African children who are trained as mercenaries.”
    Drake glared at Remy for a moment before his eyes softened. “I know you want this guy, Remy. We all do. But this isn’t for us to decide, and you know it. The UN wants a list of clients he has on his computer, and they spent ages and lots of euros creating these identities for us. We