3. Seb
Chapter 3
Seb
The gentle rocking of the hired yacht beneath my feet does little to calm my nerves as I watch Ava get ready.
“You're sure about this?” I ask, fiddling with the comm unit in my hand. “I’m still worried about you. The alpha at the café seemed to throw you off.”
Ava pauses, her hands halfway through plaiting her hair. For a moment, I see a flicker of something in her eyes. Uncertainty? Fear?
It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by her usual determined glint.
She finishes the French braids. Then ties the two rows together before turning them into a tight bun, just like every time before today. Graceful and methodical. It’s like watching a dancer getting ready for a performance—except this dance could land us both in prison if anything goes wrong.
“I’m fine, Seb,” she says, securing pins in the bun. “He was just unexpected, that’s all. Nothing I can’t handle.”
I feel a familiar twist in my gut. Part worry, part resignation, and a lot of jealousy that I don’t want to think about. Being a beta, I have my doubts. But then, Alphas would doubt their life with Ava. She’s the most beautiful omega I know, and sometimes I can’t help but wonder if there’ll come a day when this life isn’t enough for her.
When I’m not enough.
Will an alpha come along?
Despite her insistence that she doesn’t need one, will she purr for him?
I’ve felt this way since I met her just over two years ago. She was looking on the dark web for a web expert. It turned out she wanted much more than that. After answering her ad, I never thought she’d go as far as she did to scope me out. We conversed by email; by text and she called me a few times. Little did I know, she was watching me; stalking me if you like.
She was making sure I was the one who she could trust with everything else in her life. And for the past two years, she’s been mine.
Ava slips on a black vest, the material hugging her curves in a way that makes my skin heat and my mouth go bone dry. I force myself to look away as she pulls on matching leggings.
It’s not the time for distractions, no matter how much I want to bend her over and fuck her until she’s begging to come. Telling me over and over that she’s mine.
“Are you okay? You seem a little off,” she says.
I nod, not entirely convinced but knowing better than to push my thoughts.
Ava reaches for a long, multicolored, floaty dress, slipping it over her stealth outfit. The transformation is remarkable. In seconds, she goes from cat burglar to socialite.
“How do I look?” she asks, twirling around.
“Like you belong at a charity gala, not breaking into hotel rooms,” I deadpan, managing a small smile.
Ava grins, the excitement of the upcoming heist clear in her eyes. “Perfect.”
Her addiction to stealing is real. Just like I love to be her eyes and ears on the ground.
This is who she is—who we are. And our common ground.
She grabs her bag. An innocent-looking blue tote, somewhere to stash her clothes when she starts. There’s nothing inside. The arsenal of lock-picking tools that would make all other master thieves envious is on her person. In her hair, strapped to her thighs and the cell in her hand.
“Hey.” Ava’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. She’s standing in front of me now, her bag on her shoulder and her hand on my cheek. “We’ve got this, okay? Just like always.”
I lean into her touch, savoring the moment. “Just be careful, right? And if anything feels off—”
“I’ll abort the mission,” she finishes, rolling her eyes but smiling. “I know the drill, Seb.”
She leans in, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before pulling away. I grab the back of her neck and slam my lips on hers, my tongue invading her mouth, devouring her taste, like I’m scared I’ll never get to do it again.
She kisses me back.
We are heat, love, and the only two people in the world right now. And that’s the way I want it to stay.
She smiles against my mouth. “Love you forever.”
God, I hope so.
“Love you in every life.” I press my head on hers, and I’m thankful for yet another day with her.
“Keep the engine running, and we’ll be back in Majorca by morning.” She turns before heading for the yacht’s exit.
I watch her go.
She’s so confident, ready to take on the world. So different from two years ago when she sought my services. She was fearless, but so irrational in her plans.
Not anymore.
Between us, we’ve learned everything there is to know about stealing from the rich and making ourselves very wealthy in return.
We don’t only work for ourselves. Our services are sought on the dark web. When a painting needs stealing from an art gallery, or the one occasion where a child needed returning to her mother.
The right money—or cause, in the child’s case—we can do it all.
As the door closes behind her, I turn to my array of monitors and computers. My part in the plan is about to begin.
“Comms check,” I say into the microphone.
“Loud and clear,” Ava’s voice comes through, crisp and professional.
I take a deep breath, pushing down my worries. “Time to focus, sweetheart. Let’s go tweeting.”
“Okay, my love.”
I smile. She never makes me feel anything, but that she is mine and I am hers.
These insecurities I have are all mine.
“Well done. The coast is clear for you to move.”
My fingers fly over the keyboard, eyes darting between multiple screens showing security camera feeds from all over the hotel.
“Third floor is clear.” Ava’s voice comes through the comm, steady and focused. And I’m happy to see her heart rate is normal as she slips into the emergency exit and makes her way up to the stairs. “Moving to the fourth.”
“Roger that,” I respond, switching camera views. “Coast is clear for the next two minutes. Hit room four one three first.”
I watch through Ava’s headset camera as she places the deactivating device on the card reader. A couple of seconds of listening before the red light changes to green, and she slips inside.
Through the hotel cameras I see her movements are fluid, practiced. Not that anyone else would recognize her.
Her black leggings are now pulled all the way down over her feet. And with the hood attached at the neck of her top now hiding her face and hair, only her eyes are seen.
With gloves on her hands, she’s covered from head to toe in black. We do everything to prevent her from leaving her fingerprints or DNA.
Within minutes, she cracks the safe and pockets a fortune in diamonds.
This job was the one we were paid to do. To steal the 20 CT pink diamond sitting atop the most expensive engagement ring in the world.
The other jobs were planned because there are too many mega wealthy people here to not take advantage of where we are.
“Nice work,” I murmur as she pockets the other jewels in the safe. She stares at the glimmering pink diamond for a few seconds before slipping it into the bag strapped around her waist.
“Focus sweetheart. There’s no time for thinking of anything but the job.”
“Yeah,” she murmurs, rushing to the hotel door.
“Next job is only two doors down, and then you’re out of that hotel. Stop!”
Her hand hovers over the handle.
“Hold position and get ready to hide if I tell you. There’s a maid coming your way.”
Ava freezes, pressing herself against the wall.
I hold my breath, watching the maid pass by on the security feed. I wait for her to disappear into a room a few doors down and say, “Okay, go.”
The next job goes like a dream, and before I know it, she’s at the next hotel and cracking open the first safe well ahead of time.
“We have an hour and fifteen minutes before the race will finish.” I tell her, hoping nobody leaves the race early.
This dance continues for the next hour. Ava moves like a ghost through the hotel, me as her eyes and ears. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
“That’s it, make your way back here,” I tell her.
She removes a black card from the bag strapped around her waist. I squint to see gold writing on the card. “I have one more job to go.”
“You’re finished.”
She removes one black glove which is sewn into the sleeve of her top and checks the time. “I’ve got eight minutes.”
“Ava. I’ve not planned for anything else.”
“It’s the penthouse in this hotel. Open the cameras, and I’ll make my way there.”
She doesn’t wait for my response.
She rushes to the emergency staircase while I scramble to get access to the upper floor cameras.
“Ava, turn around and get out of there. Security’s coming up the main elevator.”
Nothing.
“Ava?”
The feed from her headset shows only darkness. My heart rate spikes.
“Ava? Do you copy? Ava!”
Nothing but silence. Panic claws at my throat as I frantically switch between camera feeds, searching for any sign of her.
Minutes stretch into an eternity.
I lift my wrist. My watch shows it’s been ten minutes since I lost contact.
There’s a roar from the crowd watching the Monaco Formula One. Only then do I realize how much I zoned out of the sounds of the cars zooming around the track.
But right now, nothing is as loud as the blood thrashing in my ears.
I’m about to abandon the boat and search for her myself when movement on the pier camera catches my eye.
“Ava,” I breathe as I watch her strolling casually like any other tourist enjoying the Monaco sunshine. Her dress flows behind her, and her heels are in her hand.
Relief floods through me, quickly followed by frustration.
I want to scream at her to hurry, but I can’t risk drawing attention. So I watch, my heart pounding so hard I fear it might burst from my chest, as she takes her sweet time making her way back to the yacht.
Finally, she reaches the boat. My anger is rising, but before I can say anything, she holds out a hand. I pull her on board, and she scrambles below deck.
“We need to leave right now.”
“What the hell happened?” I demand, already moving to prep the boat for departure.
Ava shakes her head, her face pale beneath her usual post-job flush. “I’ll explain later. Just get us out of here. Fast.”