Chapter 67
REGGIE
Watching her hips sway as she struts into the nightclub makes my pulse race and my gut twist. She’s more than capable of handling herself. I know that.
But not being in there with her? That kills me.
My hands tighten around the steering wheel. Beside me, Rowan’s knee bounces like a ticking bomb.
“She’s going to ace it,” I tell him, forcing calm I don’t feel.
“I don’t like it. I wanna go with her.”
I sigh.
“We’re here. Close enough to get to her the second she needs us.”
He scrubs a hand over his face.
Drago sits in the back, tapping away on his laptop. He flew in last night to help plan this op, digging up everything he could on Madame Eve. The woman’s a ghost. No digital footprint worth tracing.
But we’ve got her old name: Eve Jacobs. British. Forty-five. Widowed. Officially missing for ten years.
“Can we see the security cam, Drago?” I ask.
“Yeah, sure.”
He passes the laptop forward, and I set it on the dash. Six live feeds glow across the screen. Bella should appear on the first any second now.
Rowan exhales as she steps through security, her fake ID flawless.
“I feel sick,” he mutters.
“Keep it together. She needs us both sharp.”
He nods, eyes glued to the screen.
At first, I thought what he felt for her was a game, a craving for what he couldn’t have.
But watching him now, it’s more than that.
He needs her like oxygen.
Just like I do.
“She’s going to be fine, brother. Our girl’s a firecracker,” I tell him.
A slow smile tugs at his lips. Drago coughs from the backseat.
“Ours,” Rowan repeats.