13. Ares
Thirteen
Ares
My sanity, my willpower, my fucking patience hung by a loose thread that was on the precipice of snapping.
Amala made meaningless conversation with a grey-haired woman, laughing and smiling like she didn’t continuously push my buttons day in and day out.
She seemed like an angel but she happened to be the devil in disguise.
A witch who used her dark magic to manipulate the people around her.
The vicinity buzzed with subtle entitlement, everyone silently competing with each other.
Whose net worth was higher, whose bank account had more zeros in it, who could use their power to weave their way out of sticky situations.
“Jonathan Freeman.” A man with a Russian accent said, the voice coming from somewhere behind me.
I smoothed a palm over my tie, listening attentively. “I almost thought you’d taken a rain check tonight.”
I slowly turned around, only to get a glimpse of their faces.
Amala had a camera hidden in her necklace and I had one embedded into the buckle of my belt.
When I fully turned towards them I heard Kayden’s voice through my earpiece. “Got them.”
“No facial recognition for the Russian.” He said. “At least we’ve got the voice recording.”
I couldn’t respond because that would’ve been suspicious but I walked past them, making a beeline towards the bar.
“Where’s Enzo?” Jonathan asked and the Russian clicked his tongue.
“Business trip. Rodrigo needed his assistance for closing a deal in Vista.”
I frowned, making mental notes of the names.
Hoping the audio would be clear enough for the analysts to work with. Could Enzo or Rodrigo be Dominion?
When I reached the bar, I requested water.
Internally cursing at the fact that I couldn’t drink any alcohol. I needed it.
The two men walked by, moving toward a secluded section.
“Let’s discuss this in my office.” The Russian said and then they disappeared around the corner.
The bartender pushed the water towards me and I nodded.
I couldn’t follow them because security seemed to be tight and I couldn’t risk blowing my cover, getting caught, or endangering us.
Shit.
This could’ve been the break we needed. I kept looking in the direction both men walked and that’s when two bodyguards appeared, clad in black with earpieces in.
No doubt those men were high flyers with wealth and power.
Why else would you need men guarding your office if you weren’t hiding something?
I twisted my body around, scanning the crowd for Amala and that’s when I spotted her conversing with a man.
Tall, blonde hair, pristine beige suit. He held his hand out for her to take and she gracefully accepted.
Maxime Rodriguez’s Vivo Tango drowned out the sounds of chatter, each beat punching me in the gut as I watched the scene unfold.
He pulled her towards the dance floor, holding her close as they moved to the rhythm of the song.
There were a handful of people surrounding them, dancing along but my sight was only set on her and I found it disgusting—how I couldn’t get myself to look away.
I swiped a knuckle across my jaw, scowling at them.
At this point, I didn’t know if it was the thump of my heart pounding in my ears or the loudness of the track blaring throughout the room.
“I’ve got some information on the man you’re dancing with,” Kayden spoke and I bit my tongue.
Not wanting to say anything out of line. Amala couldn’t respond but she made conversation with the man.
“His name is Ian Rossi. Seems to be Enzo’s brother. They’re all under investigation.”
My jaw ticked, the vexation hitting me out of nowhere.
I didn’t know why but the scene before me, of the strange man’s hands roaming over Amala’s body angered me to the core.
Maybe it was because I now knew his identity or maybe it was something else. Something I couldn’t quite name yet.
“He’s extremely dangerous. Wanted across several states.”
There was static and then I heard his voice. A subtle Italian accent. “What are your plans after this?”
“I don’t think I’ve got anything on my agenda.”
She said with a voice that dripped with seduction. “Why do you ask?”
“Perhaps we could do something.” He suggested, leaning down to talk into her ear.
“You’re just my type.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” She retorted sarcastically but I couldn’t handle the scene playing out anymore.
The rhythm got progressively louder, their movements more passionate.
My body moved on its own accord and I strutted across the room—approaching them with full-blown rage coursing through my system.
In the midst of him spinning her around, I grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her flush against me.
Of course he couldn’t protest because another woman filled his arms in a split second.
He still eyed her, seemingly upset that I interrupted the moment.
Fuck me.
I never knew someone’s skin could be this soft.
Her hands fit perfectly in mine and for a moment I forgot the reasoning behind my disdain.
Only for a moment.
A low gasp escaped her lips as our bodies connected and we moved across the floor. “What the hell are you doing?”
She muttered angrily as the sharp notes of the song slowly built, forging a path for the climax.
I pushed her away from me then pulled her closer once more, her back melting into the front of my body.
“Saving you the trouble of wasting your time. I found the targets.” I swallowed harshly, the familiar feeling washing over me.
The same feeling I experienced when she was drunk and begged me to sleep beside her. “He’s a target too.”
I wondered if she really couldn’t remember what transpired that evening—all those sweet nothings she whispered into the stillness of the night.
“Did you get any information out of him?”
“No, but I was in the process of arranging something.”
“Arranging what exactly?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Did you plan on going home with him? Our objective was to spot them, have a clear visual for our analysts, and then remain subtle for the rest of the evening.”
I knew she could handle the situation and most likely coerce more information out of him but the feeling in my gut told me to intervene.
“Obviously I wasn’t going home with him.” She scoffed. “Your buckle’s digging into my back.”
She grimaced and I cursed under my breath, spinning her around before wrapping her leg around my waist as I dipped her and pulled her back up.
Our faces were now inches apart, her cheeks flushed and it was a sight I’ve never seen before.
One that sparked illicit emotions inside of my chest.
“That’s not my buckle.”
She blinked rapidly, her leg dropping to the floor just as the track came to an abrupt end.
She eyed me, her chest heaving as people around us clapped. “We should leave.”
Amala didn’t wait for me to respond and elegantly walked away, disappearing amongst the crowd before effortlessly heading straight to the exit.
I cleared my throat but followed suit and once we were outside of the building, I aggressively removed my belt and ripped the earpiece out—throwing it onto the floor before stepping on it.
What the fuck just happened?
Luckily the bulge wasn’t evident.
Amala must’ve done the same thing I’d done because the necklace no longer adorned her neck.
The crisp air hit my skin as I walked down the empty street and pulled my phone out of my pocket, dialling Nick’s number.
“You good?” He asked. “We just lost comms.”
“Yeah. We’re good, on our way to you right now.”
While walking I eyed Amala, her heels clicking along the sidewalk. Judging by the pace, I could sense her anger.
“Wanna tell me what happened before you get into the car?” I laughed bitterly, releasing a breath as condensation formed in the cold air.
“Rather not.” I pulled the device away from my ear, hitting the red button on the screen. “Fucking hell,”
I whispered to myself.
My hands trembled as I shoved the phone back into my pocket and pulled out a cigarette from the inside of my suit jacket.
The ember glowed when the flame of the lighter touched it and I inhaled sharply, then blew out a puff of smoke.
Nothing calmed me more than the taste of tobacco on my tongue and the burn of nicotine coating my lungs.
The car door slammed in the distance and I already knew that could only be Amala’s doing.
When I finally reached the vehicle, I killed the cigarette butt and flicked it into the street.
The partition in the Mercedes-Maybach S-Class was rolled up, the air tense as I climbed into the backseat. I could always count on Nicolas to abandon me in my time of need.
The second my door closed, the car hummed to life and then he drove off.
“Why did you do that?” She spat, throwing her purse onto the floor.
“Do what?” I asked nonchalantly, dropping my belt next to the purse.
She’d been annoyed, irritated, and slightly worked up in the past but this felt different.
Her facade crumbled, cracking with each passing second.
“Don’t do that, Ares.” She scoffed. “Don’t sit here and play dumb with me. Are you fucking insane?”
I focused on the city, staring out of the window. “Insane? I don’t recall doing anything wrong.” I turned to face her.
“You touched me, practically pressed your dick into my back. You don’t consider that wrong? How many times do I have to tell you this? I don’t like you, I hate being near you. Then you pull something like that, it’s sickening and distracting me from the task at hand.”
My temper flared and I lost it, wrapping my hand around her throat.
My grip wouldn’t cut off her air supply but I dominated the situation and caught her off guard.
“How do you think I feel?” I pulled her closer. “Do you think I want this? I couldn’t stand the sight of you and now you’re plaguing my fucking mind. That’s sickening.”
She held onto my forearm, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t decipher.
“Why do we keep doing this? Why are we always going back and forth? Jesus, you’re a constant affliction. I hate you but I couldn’t handle seeing you dancing with another man.”
Her pulse quickened underneath my fingertips. “I could snuff the life out of you.”
“Then why don’t you do it?” She countered. “You’re the source of all my misery.”
“Then why haven’t you pushed me away?” We held eye contact, both of us rigid with tension.
“Answer me, Rivera. Why aren’t you pushing me away?”
The partition rolled down and I quickly removed my hand from her neck, creating distance between us.
We probably looked guilty, despite not having done anything to be guilty of.
Nicolas looked at us through the rear-view mirror, then shifted his gaze toward me. “I’m checking to make sure you two aren’t killing each other.”
Amala laughed softly and I smiled lazily. “We’ll be at the hotel in a few minutes then we’ll head back to headquarters.”
“If I were going to kill him, I wouldn’t do it when there are witnesses around,” Amala said but I refused to look at her.
I could still feel the lingering effects of the heated discussion.
Nicolas chuckled, coming to a slow stop at a red light. “Who says I wouldn’t happily be an accomplice?”
Despite her attempt at easing the tension, my chest heaved and my blood simmered.
Pulsing through my veins and spreading like wildfire.
We glanced at each other and I shifted towards the door, trying to create more distance between us but that didn’t help.
If anything I could still feel her skin against mine, her warmth seeping into my fingertips and her pulse beneath them.
I was utterly fucked.