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The elevator ride down is quick, and once outside, I give Deck a nod.

This is where we go our separate ways. Lucky me, I get to drive the rental car over—a silver Lamborghini Aventador that is everything I imagined it would be and more.

Sleek, fast and comfortable. It screams look at me, stopping people dead in their tracks.

The Lambo certainly lives up to its name, and I wouldn’t mind owning one.

Two million for a car is a bit steep for me, though.

But they sure are fun to drive.

“Have fun Ubering,” I call out, tossing my duffel in the supercool front trunk, and spinning the heavy key fob in my hand with a smirk.

“Eat me,” Deck responds flatly, and I laugh. I’m sure he’d love a ride over, but what hired help would arrive in a sexy beast like this?

The iconic scissor door opens upward and pivots, and I slip inside, settling into the seat and looking over the instrument panel.

Oh, yeah. She’s a thing of beauty. The car starts with a growl, and I make sure to give Deck an obnoxious salute as I drive by, leaving him waiting on the corner for his ten-dollar ride.

Of course, he flips me off.

The next time I see Deck, he’ll be meeting me at the rendezvous point with a huge emerald that could buy a warehouse full of Lambos.

The drive to Alejandro Torres’ estate takes about twenty minutes.

The place is lit up like a Christmas tree and guests are arriving in an endless parade of Ferraris, Bentleys and Rolls Royces.

My door scissors up in a smooth lift and I get out, handing the key to the valet.

Glancing up, I check out one of the biggest mansions I’ve ever seen, flawlessly pretending like I’ve seen bigger.

It’s imposing with huge stone columns, and I walk up the wide stairs and extend my invitation to the woman at the door.

But she’s not looking at the engraved piece of paper. Her brown eyes are currently sliding down my bespoke suit, checking out my assets.

“ Buenas noches, encantadora ,” I murmur, dialing up my charm and turning down my voice to a husky tone.

“ Buenas noches ,” she responds with a little giggle.

I have no idea how good that invitation is, but I’m assuming if it’s from The Man, it’ll do its job and get me through the door.

However, stranger things have happened, so I whisper more flirty Spanish words—I know enough to get by—intending to leave this woman distracted and panting for a few more.

She’s a flustered, blushing mess as I sweep past with a dazzling smile and a light touch to her elbow.

If experience has taught me anything, it’s that women like to be noticed.

They enjoy flirting and hearing compliments.

My goal is to make them feel like the only woman in the room.

Make them fall in love with me, if only for the evening.

As I walk through the large foyer covered in black and white marble flooring, I lightly touch the comms unit in my ear. Deck will check in once he’s in position. If he needs a distraction, he’ll let me know. In the meantime, I’m going to enjoy the party.

The moment I step into the main ballroom, three female servers approach me with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres, and a multitude of batting lashes. With a sexy grin, I accept a glass of bubbly and take a sip.

Ah, it’s the good stuff. But I wouldn’t expect any less.

Alejandro Torres can certainly afford it.

The man is loaded, mostly due to his penchant for selling arms and intel to guerrilla soldiers.

He has houses around the world, so if it gets too hot in one location, he picks up and goes somewhere else.

“Hello,” a feminine voice purrs near my ear.

Well, that certainly didn’t take long. Not to be arrogant, but I usually get in a lap around the room before someone hits on me.

A woman in a barely-there, slinky silver dress is eye-fucking me hard.

Sometimes I grow tired of feeling like a piece of meat.

Other times, I embrace it. Right now, I’m in the mood to flirt and charm and make this woman want what she can’t have.

Not with me, not tonight. There’s no time to deviate from the plan. Besides, she isn’t my type.

Granted, that’s a little harsh, because I love all women. They’re fascinating creatures and I truly appreciate their complexity. When it comes to what attracts me most, however, flashy and overtly sexy isn’t it.

I tend to be drawn to a quiet confidence. I’d rather wonder what’s hidden beneath a baggy sweatshirt than have a pair of tight nipples practically poke my eyes out. Subtlety, intelligence, unpretentiousness, hair up in a messy bun—now that’s what I’m talking about.

Time to play the game, though.

As I engage Twin Peaks in scintillating conversation, Addie’s amused voice fills my ear.

“Looking good, Beckett. And who is that silver pop-tart with her tongue in your ear?”

Addie and Ryder laugh. Fuckers. Guess Ryder just tapped into the cameras which hang in every corner of the room. One of these days I’d love to see Addie or Ryder attempt what Brighton and I do. Those two have about as much charm and finesse as a prickly cactus.

“Cams looping,” Ryder states.

“How’re you doing, Linc?” Addie asks.

“A-okay,” Deck reports. “Heading down to Torres’ office now.”

“Copy that.”

We go radio silent and I decide to escape Twin Peaks and wander around the party a little more. I like to get a lay of the land, scope things out. I’m also looking for our illustrious host. Part of my job is keeping eyes on him and making sure he stays far away from his office.

“I’m in,” Deck confirms a minute later.

So far, so good. This should be a quick in and out since we aren’t dealing with a complicated safe.

Intel showed it’s not a biometric lock, which is good news.

Having to obtain Torres’ fingerprints or eye scan would take a lot more work.

Hell, with Deck on the job, we don’t even need the safe’s code.

Nope. All Deck needs is the neodymium magnet in his pocket.

The rare-earth magnet is wrapped in a scarf and far from his cell phone, which it would fry in a second.

Strong yet simple. After examining the model, Deck told us safes like Torres’ use a nickel solenoid to activate the locking mechanism, typically found on the front door.

All he has to do is slide the magnet around, using the scarf to maneuver it, and then—

“Got it,” Deck murmurs. There’s a soft click and he’s already closed it. “No trace of an intrusion.”

“You’re a damn super star,” Addie says.

“And what am I?” I ask, feigning hurt. “Chopped liver?”

“Oh, Knox, you know we love you. Now get the hell outta there, you two.”

I smirk and turn toward the side exit where I’m planning to escape. Easy peasy. Damn, we’re good at our jobs.

The thought barely passes through my head when an alarm sounds. Chaos erupts and armed guards rush forward, ordering guests to remain still in rapid-fire Spanish. Then several gates come crashing down, cutting me off from Linc and my way out.

Oh, shit.

“Linc? Knox? What’s going on?” Addie asks.

“I accidentally triggered something,” Deck says. “But I’m out with the emerald. Where are you, Knox?”

I do a quick sweep of the room and force myself to remain calm and logical. “In the ballroom. Security just locked it down.”

“Can you get out?” Addie asks.

“I’ll find a way. Time for Plan B, though. I’ll see you at the airport, Deck.”

At least, I hope so.