6. Seb
Chapter 6
Seb
The sun is already playing a game of hide and seek with the clouds as Ava and I leave the slipstream of S’Arenal marina.
The tang of salt clings to the air, mixing with the earthy scent of burning wood from somewhere far off.
At the roadside, I cock my leg over the small bike, feeling Ava hug me from behind. “Hold on.”
“Always,” she responds, hugging me tightly.
I know she’s trying to convince me she is mine, but ever since I found her sitting with an alpha in Monaco, I fear my time is running out.
I can’t sleep at night as I toss and turn. Every thought is about her and about our future.
I slip the key into the ignition of my moped, the metal cool against my skin. "Ready?" I ask without looking back.
"Let’s go." Ava's voice, light but edged with a steel that’s been her constant companion.
We maneuver through the busy street as we leave the docked yachts, their masts swaying gently in the breeze. Soon we’re on the main road that joins the town of S’Arenal with the city of Palma and getting closer to our biggest payoff to date.
Twenty minutes later, the marbled expanse of Palma's waterfront and the cobbled streets welcome us. I slow the bike to a little more than a crawl.
"Remember," I say, the hum of the engine making my words vibrate, “when we get there, stay in the cafe opposite. You can listen to the conversation from there. But be safe.”
Ava leans in closer, her presence a comforting pressure against my back. "I know the drill, Seb. Stay in the shadows, be close, but not too close, right?"
"Exactly." I can't help but let a small smile play on my lips, even as my gut churns with a familiar cocktail of caution and concern.
It wasn't just any kind of stranger I worried about—it’s alphas, those who wear their dominance as easily as their tailored suits. Those that slip in the chair opposite her in a café and she still believes it was innocent.
I know better.
She isn’t na?ve. Her past made her hard, yet there’s still a vulnerability in her, and despite her protestations, she always gets edgy whenever we’re further away from the safety of the boat.
Yes, she can fight.
And she can evade capture because of the training she’s had. I know she’s more than capable of looking after herself. I have no doubts about that. But it’s not only the world we work in that we fear. It’s the alphas that dominate this world.
More of Palma unfolds before us, the café now in sight.
I ease the moped to a stop at the end of the cobbled street, my eyes scanning the area for any signs of trouble. Nothing stirs aside from the lazy drift of cigarette smoke from a patron outside.
"You go to Café Puerta al Mar," I murmur as I cock my leg over the seat. "Listen to the conversation, and I’ll meet you there when I’m finished." I want to reiterate over and over that I don’t want her to follow me.
Her arms tighten around me for a moment, a silent gesture, and I know she’s still trying to convince me I’m her man. "Seb," she starts, a warning in her tone that I understand all too well.
"Trust me, I’ll be careful," I interject, my heart hammering against my ribs. "It won't take long. But if you have to leave. You know the drill."
Ava nods, her lips forming a tight line. I know she hates being on the sidelines, but this is not the time for debate. I need her safe, away from prying eyes—away from alphas who will see her as a possession. No doubt this man is an alpha. They always are. And Ava will be the jewel he’ll want to own next.
With one last glance at her, I step away from the moped, feeling the weight of her gaze on my back as I venture toward the café alone.
The bell above the café door chimes, a quaint sound that belies the beating of my heart as I step inside.
The interior is bright, and the scent of rich espresso and baked cookies wraps around me like a welcome embrace.
My eyes adjust to the bright lights above, instinctively cataloging exits and potential threats as they sweep over the scattered patrons. There, in the far corner, sits a man I came to meet.
He exudes an air of quiet authority.
As I walk toward him, his sharp silver-gray eyes lock onto mine, their calculating gaze unnerving me. A tousled mop of the darkest brown hair which complements his sun-kissed face. Apart from the scruff of a beard on his jaw, he appears impeccably groomed.
He is no doubt an alpha.
Each step feels heavier than the last. The weight of this mission is bearing down on me. I suppose it’s because we never normally meet our clients, but this is an exception. We'd negotiated quite the sum for stealing the infamous necklace, but there is a part of me that thinks there is more to this than meets the eye.
As I approach the table, a faint smile plays at the corners of the man's lips.
"Lindon," he greets me using my surname, his voice low and gravelly, but surprisingly friendly. "Good to meet you. My name is Silas."
"Likewise," I reply, not giving him my first name yet as I take the seat across from him. "You got something for me?"
He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a small envelope, placing it on the table between us. Its contents shimmer with the promise of answers, hopefully a blueprint of the island and building he wants us to infiltrate.
"Where’s your partner?" he asks.
I lean back in my chair, maintaining a level of casual nonchalance despite the weight of his question.
"My partner is not needed today," I reply as my eyes meet with his.
I never mention my partner is female, nor an omega. Nobody has a clue she’s the brains behind the operation and she employed me in the beginning for my hacking skills.
She prefers it this way.
Letting everyone think I’m in charge.
The man's gaze narrows slightly, assessing my response. "Very well," he says, and slides another envelope across the table towards me. "Inside these envelopes, you'll find everything you need to know. The building is heavily guarded, not so much the island itself, so be prepared for resistance. My boss has agreed to your ten percent contract. And you'll receive twenty-five percent of the contract up front, twenty-five percent on the day of the operation and the final fifty percent on handing over the piece."
I reach out for the envelope. His palm slaps on top of my hand, stopping it from moving any further.
"But if you deceive me, I will kill you," he says.
"We're not interested in the item, only the ten percent commission."
He grunts, cracking his neck from side to side. “Fine.”
My fingers curl around the envelope instinctively. "And is there anything else I should know? Any particular challenges?"
I look him directly in the eye and double blink; the action enacting the camera in my glasses which sends his photo to my database and I wait for the details to come back.
"Only one." His smile widens ever so slightly, revealing a glint of amusement in his eyes. “The necklace is owned by an alpha. A very dangerous alpha.”
"We're not worried about alphas," I retort as I listen to the data in my earpiece.
"You should be." Silas is silent for a moment before he says, “And I have a contact who can get you on the island for the next open day. You can scout the island, the museum and take some pictures with the camera on your glasses.”
I don’t react to his knowledge about my glasses. He is right.
The man in front of me is Silas St. James. I read the information scrolling in front of me.
Silas St. James, thirty-four years old, wife died two years ago, single dad to a three-year-old daughter.
That’s enough information to find out more about him. I hold out my hand. “Thank you. I’ll be in touch, Silas.”
He smiles. “No problem.” He hesitates for a moment. “But I’ll need an answer soon. There are plenty of teams who’ll take on the job.”
“One question.” I rise as he holds out his hand for me to shake. “How dangerous is the alpha on the island? Mafia dangerous?”
“Not that I know of.” Silas considers me for a moment. “Though he’s been known to do whatever it takes to get what he wants.”
“And the jewel. Is it a family heirloom, something he will kill to get back? Or will he be filing insurance paperwork?”
“Are you worried? I heard you were the best.”
“By whom?” I ask.
He makes a slight inhale, and I wonder if he can smell Ava on me. Not sure why I worry when she’s not scenting yet and taking preventative measures if she suddenly perfumes and also to prevent a sudden heat.
This is business for Silas. He isn’t interested in Ava. And that’s calming my nerves. “Let’s say we have a mutual contact who wants to remain anonymous.”
“And as the jewel is priceless, does your contact want to sell it or look at it?”
“That’s none of your business.” His voice is low and gravelly.
“Okay, these are the terms. As my research tells me, the jewel is worth a minimum of two hundred and fifty million dollars. I want ten million now, ten million on the day and the rest on delivery.”
Silas arches an eyebrow as he glares at me
I don’t relent.
Finally, he replies, “Okay.” He stares at me. “But if it isn’t delivered.”
“We’ll get it to you.” I hold my hand up in the air. “And I doubt it would be that easy to sell. Those are my terms.”
Silas nods. “He wants to own it.” He hesitates as he wonders whether to continue. “The man wants the red diamond because it’s the most expensive and rarest diamond in the world. And he can afford to keep it.” He hesitates for a moment. “And between you and me, he also wants it in his possession because it was once his.”
“Ahh. It was stolen from him.”
“Yes.”
“My terms are still the same. I’ll send you my Cayman Islands bank account details. We’ll proceed only when the first payment hits the account.”
I have a feeling this job won’t be as easy as most.