Chapter Twenty-One
Zahra
“Okay, Zahra, we’ve got you all covered,” Dog said, handing the comm to Devil, who fixed it inside my ear. “Turn on the comm anytime you want to talk to us. The tracking device inside should let us know where exactly you are. Only when it’s turned on.”
I nodded.
“It should be turned on at all times,” Devil reaffirmed. “On no account should we lose contact with you. Your phone should be in your hands because if something happens, or the comm stops working, that’s our next means of communication,” he said.
“Got it.”
“Right.” Milk brushed her hands together. “Shall we go over the plans one last time?”
“Attend the event with Marino,” Upper said. “Mingle and talk for a bit, familiarize yourself with the security around the space. Dog will handle the security cameras from the little cafe at the other side of the street when you go off to explore.”
“The painting,” Devil took over, “is kept in a vault-like safe; the unlocking device sitting pretty in your purse will be able to rig the system without setting off any alarm.”
“It’s tested and trusted,” Milk cut in with a proud smile.
Upper nodded. “You get into the vault, and I’ll be there inside the vent tube, waiting for you to vent me in.”
“He gets in with his computer,” Dog continued, “disables the alarm so that when you open the safe where the painting is kept, the security won’t get alerted and storm the place.”
“You grab the painting, hand it over to Upper, he gets back into the vent with it and meets me and Dog at our getaway car a street away from the museum,” Devil said. “Meanwhile, you get back to the event, and stick to Marino’s side until he leaves.”
I nodded. “Okay, should be easy enough.”
Dog eyed me with concern. “You sure you’re okay with doing this? After the thing with Dion—”
I smiled at him and then at all of them staring at me with worry. “Guys, come on. I can do this; I’m perfectly okay, mind and body.”
Devil shook his head. “It’s not that. It’s the person you’re going with.”
My gaze locked with Devil’s. “I can handle him,” I said with assurance.
“Like you handled him when he tried to drown you,” Dog muttered. “That bastard.”
“It would take more than a little foreplay at some pool to drag me down. You guys have nothing to worry about. Let’s just get this over with, close the deal with this damn painting.”
“I still hate the fact that we’re doing this for such a little amount of money. Do you think we should have demanded more since they want it so badly now?” Milk said.
Devil shook his head. “No. I want us to be done with the client. I don’t have a good feeling about it. I mean, they reached out to us months ago, sent the money, and disappeared, and then out of nowhere, they pop up again, wanting it tonight?”
Upper frowned. “And weren’t we supposed to have it in our possession for like a week before delivering? But now all of a sudden, they need it … Something doesn’t sound right about that.”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Maybe they had a change of plans?” Milk considered.
“That could be the case, but what about the radio silence all this time?” Upper chipped in.
There was a hard knock on the door, followed by a gruff voice. “Marino’s here; get out.”
“Watch your fucking tone!” Dog yelled at the soldier outside our door. “Rude fucking motherfuckers,” he muttered, beckoning to Upper to recheck the sound transmitter for my comm device.
I sucked in a breath, channeling my social spirit, my pretense aura, and my alter ego.
“Hey.” Devil held my elbow, gently pulling me towards the door. “You sure you can do this?” he asked quietly.
“I am. I was serious when I said I knew how to handle him. He doesn’t scare me.”
“I know, but—it still doesn’t stop me from worrying, Z. I don’t want you to be in the same space or even country with him at this point. I don’t trust him with you.”
“Then trust me.”
“I do,” he whispered, fingers running up my arm in a sweet, nerve-awakening brush. “I trust you to come back to me in one piece—” His gaze lingered on mine before it traveled down to his fingers on my arm. “Because … when you come back, there’s … something I wanna tell you.”
I frowned. “What is it?”
He smiled, meeting my eyes once more. “Good, now you gotta come back to me in one piece, so you can hear it.”
I smiled, shaking my head at him. “You’re a devil.”
His hand on my arm moved to hold the side of my face as he leaned down to press a kiss to my lips, careful not to ruin my lipstick, before pulling away and speaking. “If he tries anything, I give you permission to shoot him.”
I chuckled. “Of course, if that’s what you really want.”
His smile was sad. “You should get going; we’ll start up here.” He pulled back.
I turned towards Upper and Dog on the couch, catching Upper’s stare on us. His eyes held an emotion that had me frowning slightly. But it disappeared as quickly as I spotted it, and he forced a carefree smile. “Be safe. I’ll see you on the inside.”
I nodded. “See you guys soon.”
We bid our goodbyes, and I forced away the thoughts that swept through me after that look from Upper.
As I approached the vehicle, the driver opened the door with a slight bow, and I thanked him with a smile.
When I got into the back seat, Elio was at the other side, holding a black hardcover book in his hand, his reading glasses on his face as he flipped the pages and spoke without looking at me. “Good evening.” He greeted me politely, an action that made me pause.
“Uh … yeah, evening?”
He looked dangerous, wearing a black trench coat and a men’s turtleneck shirt with black slacks and shoes.
All colorless. His silver watch glinted in the light from the car as we started moving.
His rings on tattooed fingers also complemented his wristwatch’s twinkles, drawing me to how lithe and well-kept his fingers were.
I swallowed. “Aren’t you hot?” I asked.
“No,” he responded, but still didn’t take his eyes from the book.
“I know the aircon is on, but you could at least take off the trench co—”
“This idiot girl,” he muttered, slamming the book shut as he closed his eyes, letting out a controlled breath.
I frowned. “Excuse me? If you didn’t want to remove the trench coat, you could have just said so. You don’t have to be rude about it.”
He opened his eyes again, sighing. “I was not talking to you,” he said as he turned his head to look at me. “It’s the book—why are you wearing a nightgown?” His gaze spelled shock, lingering on my exposed thighs, then my cleavage, before settling back on my face.
“Ha! He called it a nightgown, guys, he called it a nightgown.” Dog’s voice reached my ear.
I looked down at the length of the dress: It was a thin-strapped white silk dress that stopped mid-thigh.
I opted to wear a waist-length straight brunette wig, which was parted in the middle and tied into a low ponytail.
It was sleek and classy, and it made my face pop, accentuating my cheekbones and the dark brown lipstick I wore.
My makeup was minimal; Milk had hidden my freckles and paid attention to my eyeliner, which was dark and sharp, giving me a cat-eye look.
I looked less like Zahra and more like a sophisticated rich escort.
“It’s not a nightgown; it’s a dress—”
“Where’s your hair?” Elio asked with distaste in his eyes.
“Under the wig? I wanted a disguise because I can’t be seen as myself on a job.”
I watched his eyes take in my face before he looked away, shaking his head as he muttered, “Ridiculous.”
That made anger blossom in the pit of my stomach. “I didn’t dress up seeking your validation.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I specifically asked you to look responsible.”
“This isn’t responsible enough for you?”
His head turned in my direction again. “No. You look like an unscrupulous escort.”
Dog spoke. “I really want to rearrange his face. It’s like a burning urge. Let us find time to tie him up and fuck up that face like we did to that biker dude a year ago.”
“Ignore him, Zahra; focus on the mission,” Devil said.
“He clearly doesn’t have eyes,” Milk muttered in annoyance.
His gaze shifted to my ear, where Devil had placed the comm, and then he looked back at me. “If you and your little choir group ruin today for me, I will ensure you don’t return alive.”
“Is that a promise?” I asked with a smile, and he looked away from me, a frown on his face as he opened his book again and didn’t look up once or respond to me until we got to our destination.
When we pulled up to the front of the gallery, the door was opened for me by one of the chaperones; I smiled at them, looking up to see paparazzi taking endless pictures.
I spotted three more cars pulling up behind us, Marino soldiers filing out of each, guarding the perimeters as if the security provided at the gallery was a joke.
“This is a big event,” I whispered.
“We have to be more careful, but we don’t have that much time since the buyer was specific about delivery time. The docks. Ten P.M. sharp,” Devil said.
“Ten P.M., copy that,” I responded.
“Just got to the cafe, all set and ready to go,” Dog voiced.
Even with my disguise, I still tried to hide my face from the camera flashes, and when Elio came to stand beside me, now without his reading glasses, giving me his elbow to put my hand through, I smiled up at him, and he looked away, not returning it, as I would’ve expected.
Come to think of it, I’d never seen this man smile. He was either indifferent or annoyed half the time, and right now, he looked neither indifferent nor annoyed, just blank.
The inside of the building was bright and had the perfect temperature; warm, homey, and relaxing.
There were people in twos everywhere, men wearing black suits and women wearing white dresses, chatting, drinking expensive wine, staring at sculptures or paintings, snapping pictures of themselves, and laughing like they were having the time of their lives.
I looked up at Elio, a smile curling on my lips. “Isn’t it wonderful?”