Sammy watches with a hawk’s patience. Nico’s hand hovers near his jacket, a small animal’s warning.
I sign the document on her tablet.
What difference does it make if I don’t read it? Hell, I could sign the world away with less trouble than it takes to light a cigarette and I wouldn’t think twice if it got me closer to her.
What? That’s not right. Stay focused, I tell myself.
A single crate is brought forward beneath a canopy I had my team of bodyguards erect.
Next, it’s rolled open.
The samples gleam under the dock lights—sleek, compact, lethal in a way that makes businessmen salivate and governments call midnight meetings.
Weapons technicians from Sigma International do their thing, snapping photos, running diagnostics. They make all the right noises, but I already know they will find everything more than sufficient.
Everything hums the way it should.
All the while, my gaze keeps drifting back to Cecilia—just a fraction of a second longer than professional courtesy allows.
I watch how she narrows her eyes when she doesn’t trust a number.
I watch the small way she presses the pad of her thumb against the glass before she snaps the file closed, a tiny ritual that makes me smile despite myself.
Nico steps forward, clean and blunt.
“You sure everything’s on the up? We don’t need any surprises.”
His tone is less threat than measured challenge.
I hand the tablet back when I’m finished signing everything.
“You’ll have full transparency. Chain of custody, third-party verifications. If anything?” I let the silence do the work. “You’ll know about it first.”
He eyes me and then Cecilia, suspicion and something resembling acceptance warring on his face.
Sammy chuckles under his breath, the noise like a release valve.
The techs continue their measurements, and for a few minutes business swallows the tension.
“It all looks good, Nico. I checked everything twice,” Cecilia says.
And I feel warm at the thought of her standing up for me, no matter how unnecessary.
That’s when I know the seeds are planted.
I let a fraction of my plan show. Competence, charm, patience.
I will seduce her, yes—not because she’s a prize to be captured but because I want to peel back the armor I sense beneath that cool exterior, and because getting close to her is a way to get closer to the Volkovs and the Furys.
Two birds, one blade.
Elegant, efficient.
The crate seals click shut.
The manifest is stamped.
Men shake hands, cameras snap, and the world exhales, for now.
