Page 119 of Malicious Claim

A face-to-face meeting with one of Vincenzo's associates.

The plan for the meet up was simple to execute.

I asked Stefanos out on a date.

It had been so easy to get him to agree. His ego would not allow him to deny, least of all in light of the way I had been manipulating him. I let him think it was his charm that had at last broken my resolve.

He was unaware that the restaurant I chose was the same one where I had intended to meet Vincenzo's contact.

Halfway through the meal, I set down my fork and grabbed my handbag.

Stefanos arched an eyebrow. "Where are you going?"

"Bathroom," I said suavely.

He frowned slightly. "With your handbag?"

I offered him a slow, flirting smile. "For a professional womanizer, you're really lacking in general information about women." I leaned in closer, my voice low. "I have to retouch my makeup. Or do you want me to be flawless with no effort on my part?"

Stefanos smirked at this. He pushed me aside with laughter. "Hurry up."

I turned away, keeping my step even as I headed towards the bathroom.

The bathroom section was spacious, divided into male and female, with a corridor in between. Upon entering the faintly lit corridor, Vincenzo's contact was already waiting.

I recognized him immediately.

Not because I'd ever laid eyes on him, but because I'd been told exactly what to look for.

"He'll be in yellow," Vincenzo had said. "A loud choice, I realize. But that's the point. You'll see him the instant he walks in, and yet no one else will really even see him."

And Vincenzo was right.

When the man had first stepped into the restaurant, his yellow shirt had immediately caught my eye. An off, deliberate choice among an ocean of dark business suits. He stood out, and yet no one really noticed him. That was what made him dangerous, not the color, but the audacity to do it and be ignored.

Now, here he was, waiting for me as though he had forever to spare.

He was broad-shouldered and tall, with piercing eyes that probed me as though I were a puzzle he was trying to solve.

"So," he murmured, leaning to one side, "you're the infamous Leila."

I crossed my arms. "And you're wasting time."

The man chuckled, clearly amused. "You've got nerves."

I didn't flinch. "And you have questions. So ask them.”

He eased back slightly. "We need to know if you are genuinely opposed to Makros. Or if you're playing a double game."

I reached into my handbag, pulled out a small flash drive, and held it suspended between us.

"Makros's finances. Upcoming shipments. Schedules. All that I could collect from his comms room without leaving behind any suspicion."

The man's smile thinned. He took the drive from me, studying it between his fingers. "Impressive."

I met him eye to eye. "You wanted proof that I'd betray Makros? Here it is."

He studied me for a minute, then nodded. "Okay. But your words and some stolen files aren't going to get you what you want."