My mind remains in that gym, the images of Indie flashing behind my eyes every time I fucking blink.
Mentally, I gave myself a slap on the back for holding it together. When she dropped to her knees without a hint of hesitation?
Fuck, I deserved a knighthood.
It makes my dick stand to attention thinking about it.
Clearing my throat, I reach for the envelope.
“Cheers, mate,” I say, plucking it off him and emptying the contents onto my desk.
He sighs, leaning against my desk as he points to each object scattered across it. “Fake driver’s licence, passport, both British and American. Credit card, bank card, and of course, your invitation.”
I flip the plastic cards between my fingertips, huffing a laugh.
We had to make me forty-five, seeing as Dawson bought wigs that were fucking awful.
Shona thankfully could work with my hair that’s been growing out at the sides to make it black and peppered temporarily. She’s well versed in prosthetics for undercover missions and managed to make me look the age in the photo.
I drew the line at putting fucking wisps of dye through my eyebrows.
I’d rather just walk in and blow the place to shit, Rex style. Take each and every one of them out in one go.
But alas, there’s too much at stake, and there’s a risk someone we need could get caught in the crossfire.
Besides, I wouldn’t want the Montgomerys to be handed an easy punishment.
They’ll fucking burn in my eternal hell.
My gaze shifts to the invite, and I pick it up.
“Any updates from Ross?” I ask. We’ve got one of our men working on the inside, has been for two years now.
He’s been within their hospitality staff for their big events. Omnia holds them every quarter; this is the last one before the year is out.
The only opportunity to attend as their society seeps into the criminal underworld, and invitations are extended to existing clients’ associates.
I’m expecting it to be big and to reveal exactly what goes on in the minds of the fucking depraved.
Dawson scoops up the fake identification. “Still no names but overheard the vetting on the new attendees has checked out. You’re in the clear.”
Dawson’s had to squirrel away the last couple weeks building me an entire seedy history, one further away from my current, planting enough trails to make my fake life look legit.
It helps when you already have connections in the criminal world, knowing exactly who to infiltrate to your benefit.
I nod, handing him the black card containing the Omnia black and gold emblem.
He shoves all the contents back in the envelope. “I’m gonna head to the gym and call it a night.”
My brows deepen. “You fucking feeling alright, Dawson?”
The man rarely trains; when he does, it’s not willingly.
He spent the last twenty years doing it, only now to keep himself in the same condition as the rest of us.
My ears bled when he speared the innards out of me about having to do the cold training with Indie and Regina.
He flips me off. “Gina wanted to do a late-night session, seeing as Indie wasn’t up for it.”
