I glance up at him, reading the warning in his eyes, then turn my attention back to the mark.
Who the hell are you?
With my game face on, I slip through the crowd, brushing past clusters of people until I’m standing in front of him.
Tall, impeccably dressed, with wavy, dark brown hair. His shoes are spotless, polished to a shine, and even his tie knot is precise like he took his time to get every detail right.
Everything about him screamscontrol.
I smooth my dress and offer a flirtatious smile. “Hey.”
He barely glances at me, dismissing me with a curt nod and shifting his gaze elsewhere.
Okay, rude.
Undeterred, I step closer, dialing up the charm. “Need a breather from the crowd too?”
Still nothing. His attention stays elsewhere as if I’m part of the background.
Come on, work with me here.
I need him to engage, to drop his guard long enough for this to work, and it seems flirting isn’t going to break through that wall of indifference. I scan him once more. There’s a tiny wine stain on his sleeve, almost imperceptible, but there. A neat freak like him would hate it.
“That’s such a beautiful suit,” I compliment as I lean in to point to his sleeve. “But you’ve got a little something right there.” I lower my voice like it’s a secret between us. “I know a trick to get stains out if you want some help.”
“What?” His dark eyes finally meet mine briefly, then trail to the stain, his brows instantly furrowing when he spots it.
Hook, line, and sinker.
I smile sweetly as I lean in and pretend to fuss over him. With one smooth motion, I slip the card into his chest pocket. The fabric doesn’t so much as whisper together as it disappears.
I’m triumphant until his hand snaps out, gripping my wrist with unexpected force. My heart seizes, and I freeze. His eyes narrow on me as he pulls the card from his pocket with his free hand, holding it up between us.
“What’s this?” he asks rhetorically, his voice measured, betraying nothing.
“I—” I blink, my expression as blank as my mind. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Without breaking eye contact, he slowly pulls back his suit jacket, revealing a police badge glinting under the dim light.
My stomach drops.Shit.
“Detective Hill,” he introduces himself needlessly, his voice edged with cold authority. “And you and I are about to have a very serious conversation.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Look, I don’t know what?—”
“Save it.” He cuts me off as he pulls me toward the exit. “We’re doing this somewhere more private.”
I stumble as he drags me through the museum. Panic sets in as I glance back and see Levi’s pale face, his expression stricken. Koen holds Sylus back, his hand gripping his upper arm to keep him from rushing forward. The look in Koen’s eyes says it all.
I fucked up.Big time.
But how? It was perfect. There is no way he would have noticed.No way he…
“Come on.” Hill pulls me down the hallway and into what appears to be a security room filled with screens monitoring every corner of the building.
He turns me and wrenches my wrists behind my back, the cold metal of cuffs snapping into place. I breathe through the sting, but their tightness presses deep, pinning my arms uncomfortably.
