Seb’s bear hearing didn’t fail him. He tuned into their conversation, filtering out the distant sounds of the city.
“I don’t like these late-night meetings,” Clara said, her voice low. “What do you need me to do?”
The man handed her a small envelope. “There’s a ledger that Ortega keeps—it has information we need. Names, dates, transactions. It’s kept in his study, in the safe behind the painting of the matador. We’ve had no luck getting it, but with your access...”
Clara’s stance stiffened, her silhouette rigid against the dim light. “You want me to break into Ortega’s safe? That’s not exactly subtle…or easy.”
“You’ve been close to him for months now,” the man insisted. “He trusts you. We’ve arranged a small...diversiontomorrow night. He’ll be distracted. It’s the perfect opportunity.”
“And if I’m caught?” Clara’s voice was steady, but Seb sensed the underlying concern.
“You’re clever and capable. You won’t be caught,” the man reassured her. “We’ve seen to it that there will be a window of time where the security cameras will be looped. It should give you enough time to get in and out of the safe unnoticed.”
Clara took the envelope, tucking it into her jacket without looking at it. “And the combination?” she asked.
“It’s in the envelope. Everything you need is there,” he replied, his voice low but clear. “Text me when you’re on your way there.”
Seb felt a swell of anxiety. Clara was clearly deep in something, playing a dangerous game that could cost her everything. Who was this man, and who did he work for? And why was Clara taking orders from him regarding Ortega when she worked for the CIA? Seb clenched his fists, feeling powerless in the darkness and having even more questions about his mate than answers.
Clara nodded curtly. “Afterwards? What then?”
“Bring the ledger to the drop point at midnight. Use the usual precautions,” the man instructed. “Once we have the ledger, we’ll have enough to bring Ortega down—and many others with him.”
“I understand,” Clara said, her voice now hard as steel.
The man nodded, a signal that their meeting was over. “Be careful. This ledger... it’s more than just a book. It’s the key to a lot of locked doors.”
Clara’s response was a whisper that Seb caught perfectly. “I know. I’ll get it done.”
With that, the man turned and disappeared into the night, leaving Clara alone in the park. She stood motionless for a moment before turning to walk back, her steps measured and purposeful.
Seb slinked back into the shadows and waited until she had passed before he emerged from his hiding place, his mind racing with what he’d overheard. The ledger, the safe, the planned diversion—it sounded dangerous. Clara was in deep, but into what, exactly, he couldn’t be sure. If there was one thing that hecouldbe certain of, it was that he had been right to be cautious earlier and to hold off completing the mate bond with a bite. How could he possibly tie himself to a traitor to the U.S for the rest of his life? Seb’s stomach rolled in anguish as he made his way back to the car.
He didn’t bother going back to her apartment, He went home to the safe house instead. He needed to discuss the matter with his friends—they should know what was going on. Plus, Seb hoped they would have actionable advice for him because after the night he had spent with his mate earlier, he didn’t trust his own judgment around her.
Seb stormed into the safe house, the urgency of the situation lending speed to his steps. He opened the doors to his friends’bedrooms and woke them up, asking them to meet him in the living room, then he went into the kitchen to prepare a pot of coffee. After he was done, he flicked on the lights in the living room, sat down and waited.
One by one, they shuffled in, rubbing sleep from their eyes but instantly alert to the gravity they found in Seb’s expression.
“What’s going on, Seb?” Max asked, his tiger senses easily reading the tension in the air.
Seb ran a hand through his hair, pacing before his friends. “Clara snuck out tonight so I followed her. She met with a Spanish guy, and he gave her a task to steal something from Ortega’s safe—a ledger.”
The room erupted with theories and questions, but Seb raised his hands for silence.
“Could she be working for a criminal organization?” Logan asked, his wolf instincts were always great at spotting deceit, and he’d been the most vocal about telling Seb to be cautious about what information he gave to his mate.
“No way, she’s CIA,” Ezra chimed in, considering the implications. “But I suppose she could be a double agent.”
Arlo shook his head, his shark nature calculating the risks. “You can’t just confront her. You should follow her, and gather evidence, see who she’s working with.”
Carter, ever the strategist, agreed. “Knowledge is power. Let’s not tip our hand too soon.”
Toby, his usual calm and collected self, offered a different perspective. “Guys, remember, Clara’s got classified work on this mission. This could all tie back to her assignment. We don’t know the full story.”
Max nodded slowly. “Clara’s not the enemy. The mate bond is sa—”
“It’s sacred, we know,” Arlo cut in, “but we can’t afford blind spots.”
