Page 50 of Reverence

“Did you get any information out of him?”

“No, but I was in the process of arranging something.”

“Arranging what exactly?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Did you plan on going home with him? Our objective was to spot them, have a clear visual for our analysts, and then remain subtle for the rest of the evening.”

I knew she could handle the situation and most likely coerce more information out of him but the feeling in my gut told me to intervene.

“Obviously I wasn’t going home with him.” She scoffed. “Your buckle’s digging into my back.”

She grimaced and I cursed under my breath, spinning her around before wrapping her leg around my waist as I dipped her and pulled her back up.

Our faces were now inches apart, her cheeks flushed and it was a sight I’ve never seen before.

One that sparked illicit emotions inside of my chest.

“That’s not my buckle.”

She blinked rapidly, her leg dropping to the floor just as the track came to an abrupt end.

She eyed me, her chest heaving as people around us clapped. “We should leave.”

Amala didn’t wait for me to respond and elegantly walked away, disappearing amongst the crowd before effortlessly heading straight to the exit.

I cleared my throat but followed suit and once we were outside of the building, I aggressively removed my belt and ripped the earpiece out—throwing it onto the floor before stepping on it.

What the fuck just happened?

Luckily the bulge wasn’t evident.

Amala must’ve done the same thing I’d done because the necklace no longer adorned her neck.

The crisp air hit my skin as I walked down the empty street and pulled my phone out of my pocket, dialling Nick’s number.

“You good?” He asked. “We just lost comms.”

“Yeah. We’re good, on our way to you right now.”

While walking I eyed Amala, her heels clicking along the sidewalk. Judging by the pace, I could sense her anger.

“Wanna tell me what happened before you get into the car?” I laughed bitterly, releasing a breath as condensation formed in the cold air.

“Rather not.” I pulled the device away from my ear, hitting the red button on the screen. “Fucking hell,”

I whispered to myself.

My hands trembled as I shoved the phone back into my pocket and pulled out a cigarette from the inside of my suit jacket.

The ember glowed when the flame of the lighter touched it and I inhaled sharply, then blew out a puff of smoke.

Nothing calmed me more than the taste of tobacco on my tongue and the burn of nicotine coating my lungs.

The car door slammed in the distance and I already knew that could only be Amala’s doing.

When I finally reached the vehicle, I killed the cigarette butt and flicked it into the street.

The partition in the Mercedes-Maybach S-Class was rolled up, the air tense as I climbed into the backseat. I could always count on Nicolas to abandon me in my time of need.