Page 68 of The Wicked

“Uh… yeah, evening?”

He looked dangerous, wearing a black trench coat and a men’s turtleneck shirt with black slacks and shoes. All colorless. His silver watch glinted in the light from the car as we started moving. His rings on tattooed fingers also complemented his wristwatch’s twinkles, drawing me to how lithe and well-kept his fingers were.

I swallowed. “Aren’t you hot?” I asked.

“No,” he responded, but still didn’t take his eyes from the book.

“I know the aircon is on, but you could at least take off the trench co—”

“This idiot girl,” he muttered, slamming the book shut as he closed his eyes, letting out a controlled breath.

I frowned. “Excuse me? If you didn’t want to remove the trench coat, you could have just said so. You don’t have to be rude about it.”

He opened his eyes again, sighing. “I was not talking to you,” he said as he turned his head to look at me. “It’s the book—why are you wearing a nightgown?” His gaze spelled shock, lingering on my exposed thighs, then my cleavage, before settling back on my face.

“Ha! He called it a nightgown, guys, he called it a nightgown.”Dog’s voice reached my ear.

I looked down at the length of the dress: It was a thin-strapped white silk dress that stopped mid-thigh. I opted to wear a waist-length straight brunette wig, which was parted in the middle and tied into a low ponytail. It was sleek and classy, and it made my face pop, accentuating my cheekbones and the dark brown lipstick I wore. My makeup was minimal; Milk had hidden my freckles and paid attention to my eyeliner, which was dark and sharp, giving me a cat-eye look. I looked less like Zahra and more like a sophisticated rich escort.

“It’s not a nightgown; it’s a dress—”

“Where’s your hair?” Elio asked with distaste in his eyes.

“Under the wig? I wanted a disguise because I can’t be seen as myself on a job.”

I watched his eyes take in my face before he looked away, shaking his head as he muttered, “Ridiculous.”

That made anger blossom in the pit of my stomach. “I didn’t dress up seeking your validation.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I specifically asked you to look responsible.”

“This isn’t responsible enough for you?”

His head turned in my direction again. “No. You look like an unscrupulous escort.”

Dog spoke.“I really want to rearrange his face. It’s like a burning urge. Let us find time to tie him up and fuck up that face like we did to that biker dude a year ago.”

“Ignore him, Zahra; focus on the mission,”Devil said.

“He clearly doesn’t have eyes,”Milk muttered in annoyance.

His gaze shifted to my ear, where Devil had placed the comm, and then he looked back at me. “If you and your little choir group ruin today for me, I will ensure you don’t return alive.”

“Is that a promise?” I asked with a smile, and he looked away from me, a frown on his face as he opened his book again and didn’t look up once or respond to me until we got to our destination.

When we pulled up to the front of the gallery, the door was opened for me by one of the chaperones; I smiled at them,looking up to see paparazzi taking endless pictures. I spotted three more cars pulling up behind us, Marino soldiers filing out of each, guarding the perimeters as if the security provided at the gallery was a joke.

“This is a big event,” I whispered.

“We have to be more careful, but we don’t have that much time since the buyer was specific about delivery time. The docks. TenP.M.sharp,”Devil said.

“TenP.M., copy that,” I responded.

“Just got to the cafe, all set and ready to go,”Dog voiced.

Even with my disguise, I still tried to hide my face from the camera flashes, and when Elio came to stand beside me, now without his reading glasses, giving me his elbow to put my hand through, I smiled up at him, and he looked away, not returning it, as I would’ve expected.

Come to think of it, I’d never seen this man smile. He was either indifferent or annoyed half the time, and right now, he looked neither indifferent nor annoyed, just blank.