4. Layla
FOUR
Layla
I snap a photo of Slash and Sander grappling on the dance floor, capturing the moment perfectly. One pissed off brother. One man betraying his best friend. A flushed face Cherub caught in the middle. Anger. Jealousy. Shock. Fear.
The trouble I can stir with this image is immense.
It’s not part of my mission, but it will aid my secret side-project.
While Luke is distracted by the drama, I become one with the crowd moving toward the exit. Dressed in black. Hair in my face. Hunched shoulders. Unassuming pose. I slip past the Shamrocks-owned security manning the door without being noticed.
My escape is flawless. Until I come across a man leaning against my personal, supposedly untrackable vehicle. A suit wearing man who looks out of place in the nighttime cityscape.
“Gabriel.” I greet my boss with respect in my voice and none of my shock at his presence visible. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Layla.” He acknowledges me with a tip of his head, then uses his chin to gesture toward the driver’s side of my car. “We need to take a little drive together.”
“Sure.” Once I’m settled in the front seat, I grip the steering wheel tight and stare straight ahead. My pulse is elevated, but I am determined not to show any outward signs of my panic. “Where to?”
Gabriel doesn’t answer immediately.
Knowing better than to press him, I follow his lead and remain silent.
People continue to stream out of Club Mirage. Drunk men. Stumbling women. Couples. Singles. Groups of revellers who laugh openly, despite the fight they just witnessed.
Eventually only Shamrocks remain.
Or so I thought...
“Follow that vehicle,” my boss directs me.
A Lexus pulls out of the back alley a second later. I identify it as Lysander Mayberry’s. The gold SUV has a custom plate emblazoned with the number that he sports on the back of his jersey. Black and purple stripes run vertically along the length of the vehicle—the same colours as his team, the Perth Wagyls. It sticks out like a sore thumb in the night life. A testament to the ego of the man hanging out the front passenger window signing items for the fans who converge around the SUV every time we pause at a set of stoplights.
“Subtle.”
My comment goes unanswered by Gabriel.
We trail the Lexus to a home that is detailed in my mission objective.
Nadia Appleton lives in a granny flat at the back of her parents yard. This is her new residence after her relationship with one of the Shamrocks came to an abrupt end when his treachery toward the club was exposed a few months ago. It was a tumultuous union. One that should’ve ended a long time before his deceit was revealed.
Drunk, Nadia climbs out of the back seat, then climbs onto the sidestep to kiss Sander.
“Guess they’re back on.”
I don’t know why I’m narrating every thought I have.
It’s not something I typically do.
There’s a vague tension between Gabriel and I that’s making me slightly nervous.
The older man is the most powerful person in the underworld. He stuck his neck out when he recruited me as a traumatised seventeen-year-old, and I have done everything I can to make sure he never regrets that choice. I’m professional. Diligent. Beyond reproach.
For some reason, it feels like my reputation is at risk tonight.
A shudder runs through me.
I suppress it by focusing extra hard on the occupants of the Lexus.
Once Sander and Nadia have sucked face for a few minutes, the rangy basketballer accepts the short blonde’s offer to spend the night. There’s a quick discussion between Sander and the driver. It seems like he’s being invited to join them, but he’s declining.
I gasp when I catch sight of ginger hair in the driver’s side mirror.
“He’s your way into the Shamrocks,” Gabriel explains. He turns to me with a benign expression on his face. There’s nothing remotely dangerous in his bearing, yet I feel exposed and at risk beneath his perusal. “I know you’re not trained as a honeypot. I understand that you have—” He deliberately pauses before overenunciating his next word. “— issues with the physical aspect of the job. However, I expect you to do whatever it takes to complete the mission I’ve given you.”
Mentally reeling, I just stare at Gabriel with my mouth open.
“If Venom is to be my replacement, I must know everything there is to know about him.” My boss points at the SUV that’s pulling away from the curb. “The only way to do that is via the man who holds the Shamrocks secrets.”
I’m shaken to my core.
Speechless.
Scared.
“I hope I’ve made myself clear, Layla?”
“Ye-yes, boss.” The words burn like acid as I force them past my lips. “I understand.”
“Good.” His smile unfreezes my synapses. I preen beneath his approval until he orders, “Take me to my office.” Summarily dismissed, I’m not prepared for Gabriel’s follow-up command, “I expect you to find a way into Lucas Hayes bed by the end of the month.”
It takes every ounce of my training to refrain from throwing myself from my car as I drive back to Gabriel’s city office. I attempt parasympathetic breathing. Grounding techniques. Mindfulness. Nothing works. Because it doesn’t matter what I do, the same question rattles around my head unanswered.
How am I, a twenty-five-year-old woman with no experience in willing seduction, supposed to seduce a virgin who was traumatised by the same man who abused me?
TO BE CONTINUED...
My characters cross-over into each other’s stories so you’ll see more of Cub and Layla in my current and upcoming books as well as their own trilogy when it releases in 2026.
Read Venom, Cherub, and Slash’s love triangle in the Duplicity Trilogy.
The first book, Tempting Fate , is available for free on all retailers.
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