“Worse than that,” Titus said. “We went to school together.” He kept his voice even. “He hung out with my brothers.”
“But not you?” Sage asked.
Titus shook his head. “No.”
YA and Genesis knew enough about Tatum and Tanis. Vale—so new—might not. Titus wasn’t sure, but he’d said enough.
Ocean glanced up at the words but stayed silent.
Sage didn’t blink—just expanded the profile on Hale.
Aspen pulled up the guy’s financials with clean, silent precision. “Hale’s tied to six charity galas, three private-club fundraisers, and four offshore movements. Clean. Sophisticated.”
“Looks like elite-level laundering,” Sage added.
Vale murmured, “This is Hale’s world.”
“This is my world,” Titus corrected. “Hale just plays in it.”
That landed.
All eyes turned to him again—assessing, wondering.
Ocean slid Titus’s weapon back into its sheath and handed it off. “Hardware’s ready.”
Sage snorted. “Only you would call a gun ‘hardware.’”
The crack of humor snapped the tension, pulling the room back to normal.
Aspen opened a new window on the laptop. “Savage sent tomorrow’s orders.”
Sage leaned closer, scanning. “Aurelia. Executive level. Hale’s confirmed.”
“We need to discuss next steps,” Vale said. He had no doubt Hale would come to Titus like metal to a magnet. Titus was unlike anyone he’d met—born power, controlled edge. The way he lounged in a Brunello Cucinelli sweater told Vale everything. “How are we playing this?”
“We go in as two groups,” Titus said.
“YA—you’ll be young executives there to party, except for Syx. Memorize your covers. First names stay the same; the last names I assigned put you in the right tax bracket.”
Sage snorted. “Our cover sheets put us in the ‘young, wealthy, and reckless’ category. High-priced escorts fit the profile.”
“That’s exactly what we want,” Titus said. “You’ll be prime targets for purchasing entertainment. Especially if you’re throwing around money.”
Ocean pushed off the counter with a pout. “So, no shooting or stabbing?”
Titus gave him an exasperated look, then turned back to the others.
“Vale and Syx—you’ll come with me to the executive lounge where Hale’s supposed to be.”
“And I’m who exactly?” Vale asked, his gaze locked on Titus’s.
“You and Syx are my bodyguards,” Titus said. “Hale will expect it. And once the party settles in, I’ll ‘run into’ Sage and the others—old friends from a retreat.”
Sage raised a brow. “Won’t Hale be suspicious?”
“No.” Titus let his gaze sweep over the group, assessing each of them. “He likes to surround himself with beautiful people. He’s bisexual. If we’re lucky, he’ll take an interest in one of you and ask you out.”
Titus moved to the window—the skyline rising sharp, crystalline, familiar. He was back in a terrain he understood better than anyone in the room.
