Page 58 of Flint's Arrow
“Bend, not break,” Arrow corrected smoothly. “There’s an art to it, as I’m sure you know.”
“Exactly!” Bancroft clapped Arrow on the shoulder. “You get it. Most people haven’t got the first clue what I’m talking about.”
Flint adjusted his position again, scanning the bar’s exits. The plan was simple - Arrow would suggest moving to a private party, somewhere exclusive that Bancroft would jump at. They’d identified an under-construction office building three blocks away. It had perfect sightlines from the rooftop Flint had already picked out, as well as easy access for the cleanup crew the agency was sending. Arrow just needed to walk Bancroft past the right window at the right time.
So why did Flint’s stomach twist watching his mate smile at the piece of shit?
“There’s this party tonight,” Arrow said, right on schedule. “It’s very exclusive - tech executives, hedge fund managers, the kind of people who actually move money instead of just talking about it. A friend of mine from Yale is hosting.” He paused, let doubt creep into his voice. “But I don’t know, might be too insider for...”
“Are you kidding?” Bancroft straightened and reached for his glass. “That’s exactly my scene. What time?”
“Nine. It’s in a penthouse in Tribeca.” Arrow pulled out his phone and made a show of checking something. “I can probably get you on the list if you’re interested.”
“Oh, I’m definitely interested.”
Arrow’s smile turned conspiratorial. “Fair warning, it’s the kind of party where everyone’s looking for an angle. You comfortable talking shop with vultures?”
“Please.” Bancroft drained his drink. “I eat vultures for breakfast.”
Gross,Flint thought. Through the scope, he watched Arrow’s micro-expression of disgust flash for half a second before thecharming mask slid back into place. Good. His mate was still in there, underneath the performance.
“Let me make a call,” Arrow said, standing. “Get you sorted with the host.”
He moved toward the bathroom, and Flint tracked him through the scope until he disappeared from view. Ten seconds later, Arrow’s voice came through the earpiece, quieter now.
“You good up there?”
“Fine. He’s hooked.”
“Yeah.” Arrow sighed. “Gods, that guy’s a real piece of work. He spent the last twenty minutes bragging about his ‘investment portfolio,’ which I’m pretty sure is code for the omegas he’s been buying and selling.”
Flint’s snake coiled tighter. “You’re doing great. Just get him to the location.”
“I know.” A pause. “Are you okay? You sound tense.”
“I’m watching my mate flirt with a trafficker. Of course I’m tense.”
“I’m not flirting.” Arrow’s voice sharpened. “Please don’t ever think that. I told you I wouldn’t flirt. I’m networking. There’s a difference.”
There wasn’t much of one from where Flint sat, but he bit that back. “I know, babe. Sorry. It’s just weird seeing you like this.”
Another pause, longer this time. When Arrow spoke again, his voice had softened. “Like what?”
“Like...” Flint struggled for the words. “Like the old you. The cocky cybercrimes wolf who thought the world revolved around his designer suits and expense account.”
The silence stretched. Then Arrow laughed, but it wasn’t the charming fake sound he’d been using on Bancroft. This one was real and tinged with a spot of self-deprecation. “I remember that guy. He was an asshole.”
“Yeah, he was.” Flint smiled despite himself. “But you’re not him anymore.”
“No. I’m not.” Arrow’s voice turned serious. “I’m going back out. Give me ten minutes to sell him on the party location, then we’ll head to the site.”
“Copy that.”
Flint watched Arrow return to the bar, slide back onto his stool like he’d never left. Watched him lean in when Bancroft talked, mirror the man’s body language, laugh at jokes that probably weren’t funny. All the small manipulations that turned strangers into marks.
The thing was, Arrow was good at it. He wasn’t just competent, he was genuinely talented. He read people, adjusted his approach on the fly and gave them exactly what they wanted to see. In another life, he probably would’ve been excellent in sales or politics or any job that required people to trust him.
Or he would’ve stayed in cybercrimes,Flint thought,climbing the ladder, impressing the family he has nothing to do with, living that hollow life he’d built for himself.
