14
GOING ON THE OFFENSE
SYDNEY
When they’d finished with dinner, she and Tank left the restaurant in the capable hands of Gabriel, headed back to Creepy Secret Zone. Like every other time, she sat in the back, keeping watch for someone who might be tailing them.
Once there, Sydney got busy working in the conference room, but because she and Tank had told each other how they felt, she was struggling to concentrate. She wanted to be celebrating their newfound love with her man.
Tank looked good—no—he looked better than good. He looked like an Adonis in his Santini Originals. The suit jacket hugged his broad shoulders, the black dress shirt clung to his granite abs, and the pants showed off his tight ass and corded thighs to absolute perfection.
But, she had a job to do. Time to focus-up and continue searching for King A by scouring social media.
Since King A kept his identity a secret, his podcasts were primarily audio. For the handful that were short video clips, hestood with his back to the camera, his head covered in a wide-brimmed golf hat. It was impossible to see him and, to make things more challenging, the audio had been distorted. He might be touting empowerment, but his actions were anything but. He encouraged men to step into their light and take control, all while he skulked from the shadows.
What a hypocrite.
King A claimed to be a savior for men desperate to attain power and money, fame and recognition. In truth, he was luring them into his twisted reality, brainwashing them, then unleashing them on their innocent victims. Gullible women who were duped by their false power and devilish ways.
Weeks earlier, Sydney had created a fake identity on social media. Posing as a man, she’d been accepted into the members-only group under The Sovereign Method umbrella.
There, men posted pics and videos of how their women doted over them to the point of obsession. Braggarts claiming that their wives and girlfriends made them their focal point, catering to their every whim and desire. How they were treated like gods. A good majority of them had multiple girlfriends, even the ones with wives. They boasted about their hookups, posted pics of these women too. And they always gave props and kudos to King A for teaching them how to be the alpha they’d only dreamed about. Some talked about how their careers had taken off, how they’d grown rich simply because they’d applied King A’s methodologies.
Post after post credited King A of The Sovereign Method for single-handedly changing their lives.
“Yowza,” Sydney said.
As she scrolled, she saw a posting by King A himself—and that’s when Sydney got the break she needed. There was a members-only meeting in January. To her surprise, it was at Hotel Dillinger.
Excited to tell Tank, she glanced up. Not only was she alonein the Black Site’s conference room, she realized she had to pee something fierce. She hurried out, triggering the lights in the now-dark corridor. As she started down the eerie hallway, chills rushed down her spine.
Could the terrorists breach the building? How secure is it, really?
As she rounded the corner, movement caught her eye, and she went for her SIG.
Feet away, Tank paced the hallway, his phone pressed to his ear. “I posted the pics of the dead terrorist, and I got a response.”
Sydney stopped, re-holstered her weapon, and waited for him to turn. Surprising him was thelastthing she wanted to do. Though she knew the rules of gun safety backwards and forwards, she also knew it was insanely stupid to surprise an armed man, especially a Santini assassin. It would take little prompting for him to pull his weapon.
He turned, acknowledged her with a nod before he continued his phone convo. “The terrorist’s message says, ‘You got lucky. Won’t happen again.’”
“Lucky?” Sydney hissed as she scooted into the restroom. “I don’t think so.”
When she exited, she got a delicious hit of male yumminess.
No longer on the phone, Tank was leaning against the opposite wall, looking like a total hottie, but it was the intensity raging from his dark eyes that captivated her the most.
“I came up with an idea,” he said. “Greystone and Caroline think it’s too dangerous.” He chuffed out a grunt. “That’s exactly why I think we should do it.”
He started walking backwards, gesturing with his index finger to follow.
She raked her gaze over him. From his confident swagger to the intensity in his dark eyes, she could gobble him up. He wasa formidable man. Large in size with a broad chest, bulging arms, and massive thighs.
“You are some kinda yum,” she murmured.
“Yes. You. Are.” The grit in his voice was not lost on her.
Back in the conference room, he explained his idea. When he finished, she stared at him for the longest time, trying to wrap her brain around it.
