I turned, and there he was. Alejandro. Watching me from across the room.
Our eyes locked. And just like that, I was back upstairs.
Our skin flushed.
Our breaths tangled.
The rhythm of our bodies.
After a few quiet moments, I forced myself to look away, nerves rising like smoke.
The music ended soon after, which meant the auction would begin.
I moved back into position, slipping into place beside my husband as he discarded his bourbon. His arm came around me, firm and protective.
A tall woman in silver stepped onto the stage, speaking in a sultry French accent. “The first item tonight,” she said while gesturing to a holographic display beside her, “is a rare disputed manuscript linked to a fifteenth-century Italian monastery. Opening bid: 1.5 million.”
“That’s probably code for buying Vatican secrets for blackmail purposes,” Alejandro translated in my ear.
Well,thatsounded horrible for so many reasons.
Slender remotes lifted around the room. Glasses clinked. A mix of laughter and seriousness filled the air.
“Tangos on-site,” were the next whispered words from my husband. I really could get used to associating that word with this man. Not a fan of the words he’d just said, though, because that meant it was almost time for shit to hit the fan.
I followed his gaze to see Reed slipping out of the ballroom through the service entrance to move into his position.
Hollis was now alone, watching the auction, her expression bored, her body language suggesting she didn’t care.
The next item: an ancient knife rumored to have belonged to a pharaoh.
“Lot 113. Opening bid: 13 million,” the woman said.
Right.
Definitely a front for something else.
Before any remotes were raised, the hologram began to glitch. It flickered once, then again.
I brought my hand to my chest.
Something was coming.
The auctioneer frowned. “Apologies. Technical diff—” Her mic cut out. A burst of static snapped through the sound system, and then darkness.
The ballroom was plunged into black. Screams erupted.
Then a single spotlight snapped on. It hit us. Alejandro and me.
A voice filtered through the room’s speakers—cold, calm, and cruel.
Also, distinct.
A voice I remembered.
“Next item up for bid,” Rhett said as Alejandro stiffened beside me. “Instead of ancient artifacts, how about something a little more contemporary?”
Gasps. Confusion. Movement.
