Page 27

27

Aran

I notice a few things about this party right away—one, all the VIPs in attendance are at least twice the age of their PAs, and two, they seem very eager to get their employees drunk. That, in and of itself, might not necessarily be a problem, but when I went to grab more tonic for the bar, I passed by a room with an open door where a young woman was enjoying the company of an old couple.

Now, I don’t judge people for their preferences as long as they aren’t predatory. But when you put money and status into the equation, things tend to get a bit complicated. It’s not my problem to solve though, and neither do I have the time for it when I have no idea what my troublemaker might currently be up to.

I grab the shaker and pour gin, lemon honey, and mint inside it. At least I know where Hex will be. By asking me to bring her a tray of drinks, Claire gave me the in, too. I’m adding extra alcohol to this batch, so hopefully everyone will be drunk and pliable before they’ve even finished their first rounds. I’m more than done with this cruise and the amount of stress it has put on me.

My phone pings with a message from Mong just as I finish preparing the last drink. He’s holding the front for us while we play detectives, and no one has been the wiser yet. He’s even managed to get himself to watch over the greenhouse deck, which plays in our favor if something was to go wrong.

A wave of relief surges through me, settling some of my anxiety. A healthy dose of it remains, but while I would love it gone, it keeps me alert and on my toes. Despite the party’s lulling atmosphere, I need to be cautious and not overconfident, or I risk putting both me and Hex in more danger than we already are.

That doesn’t mean I’ll sit like a duck in a lake waiting to be shot.

With about fifteen minutes to spare before I need to take the drinks to the Skellig room, I decide to do some quick recon. In about a third of the time, I have the entire first floor of what must be a two-floor penthouse mapped. The lounge and parlor take up most of the space, while the rest is a corridor with two bathrooms and four bedrooms. They are all occupied, but while that is of no particular interest to me, I have realized one other thing—the ratio of VIPs to PAs is not equal.

It strikes me as odd, considering that every guest would have at least one. Even with some leeway to account for any couples, I should be looking at a two-to-one ratio at the very least, and that’s assuming half of the non-employees in attendance came with their partners. Which, as I scan through people and the groups that have formed between them, doesn’t seem to be the case.

So where are the rest of the PAs then? And what about Eleanor? If this is Claire’s party, then it makes sense for the PA to have organized it and be present to ensure everyone is having a good time, but I haven’t seen her.

My stomach roils with unease. The collar of my shirt suddenly feels tight around my neck, so I have to undo the top button and take a deep breath. I don’t like this, and I like even less that I can’t find Hex. Claire mentioned having to greet some people before going to the Skellig room, but there is no sign of either of them.

I feel like I am about to lose it. My hands are shaking, my jaw is clenched tight. I’m not an impulsive person, I am the kind that always has himself under control. But that goes all out the window when it comes to Hex. Back home, keeping him safe has been relatively easy, but putting him in the crossfire of a drug conspiracy is an entirely different matter. He’s not trained for this, and despite that, I’ve let him put himself in danger since the very first day.

That’s not like me. I’ve been acting out of line, and while some blame is definitely on him, ultimately, it all falls on me because I let things get this far.

Why?

Frowning, I take out my cigarettes and slip out of the lounge to the smoking area next to the parlor. It’s dark and empty and broody, fitting my mood. There are a few chairs and tables, some plants, and it looks like it was designed to resemble a glass veranda. The noise is a notch quieter, which is a blessing and a curse as my thoughts threaten to spiral out of control.

Why did I let Hex play me like this? Why did I give in?

I light up a cigarette, but before I’ve taken a drag, I stop myself and extinguish it. I promised to him I wouldn’t smoke, and I intend to uphold that even if I know the nicotine will be a balm to my nerves. I have other ways to calm down, and even though it’s harder to achieve it, a quick meditation clears my head and strips away the lies from the truth.

I let him play me because I wanted to. Because I have wanted to for the longest time. The truth is I have never been satisfied with those who approached him because I wanted it to be me standing next to him. Not as a bodyguard, not as someone who’s fulfilling a promise, but as a partner. Resisting his advances has been so challenging and exhausting. Having the man you love want you just as fiercely is the hardest thing in the world to fight against. To deny yourself. But it was the right thing to do, I firmly believed that.

I exhale and toss my pack of cigarettes into the trash can.

I don’t know what changed on this cruise, but something did. Slowly, gradually, without me noticing it until it was too late. I tasted the forbidden fruit and now I simply can’t imagine my life without it.

So hard I’ve tried to rationalize this, to compartmentalize it so that it makes sense and I can explain why I did what I did. But I’ve failed, time and time again. I tell myself that once we are back in Nagoya, I will put an end to this, to us, but I fear that day. Maybe the time for me to stop lying to myself has come. Hell, I don’t want to do it anymore.

I get the stubbornness from my mother. It’s one of the qualities that has helped me in life the most, and I take pride in it. But maybe it’s time to let go of it, of the promise to my dearest friend that I have been clinging to since the day he died in my arms.

Hex is not a child anymore—he doesn’t need me to act as the father he lost anymore. He’s a gorgeous young man who sees all of me and wants me by his side. He’s not wavered once, he’s made it clear time and time again just how sure he is of that. It’s humbling, it’s scary, it’s elating.

My chest floods with so much affection for him, I feel like it’s about to burst. I look up at the ceiling where the dark chandelier reflects the light from the parlor, and count the components that make up its crystal body.

I lose. I surrender. Hex wins.

A weight lifts off my shoulders, my stomach and chest feel lighter. I smile into the darkness, giddy and wishing he were in my arms right now. I’d kiss him until he’s a gasping mess, I’d show him just how deep and dark my love for him gets.

I chuckle to myself, unable to help it. Knowing that little shit, he’d love every second of it and give back just as good. He’ll make a mess of me in his own way, and then he’ll laugh and profess how I stood no chance against him.

It’s comical how true that is.

For the first time in years, I can breathe without a lump in my throat. Without a voice at the back of my head reminding me about all those should-s and shouldn’t-s. Worry still courses through me though, and it grows with every second that passes now that I am no longer lying to myself.

I need to find Hex, and I need to make sure he’s safe or not about to sink this ship into the ocean. Because there is a danger of that happening, too. Our mission hasn’t changed just because I had an epiphany in the middle of a party for rich snobs. We’ll still talk when we’re back to Nagoya, and things will change between us, but I am not denying myself what I truly want anymore.

Just as I am about to head back to the bar, a group of three enter the smoking area. They are discussing something animatedly and don’t notice me in the dark, turning their backs to me as they claim the standing table by the opposite window. That one offers a one-sided view of the corridor that leads from the secret stairs to the parlor, while mine is just tinted black glass.

I decide not to interrupt them by making my presence known. As I am about to slip out, something in their conversation snatches my attention.

“…for the tests.”

“Five extra subjects?” the second one asks. “Do we even have those?”

“—laire has that covered.” The first one who spoke chuckles, waving his arms. “Have you… down there? That must’ve cost… fortune.”

As I cling to the shadows, I wonder when one of them will turn around, squint in my direction, and realize I’m eavesdropping. But I have every intention of being ready for it, so I size them all up. Two are averagely built, while the third one is a little taller and wider than me. But I doubt any of them has the training and experience I have, so taking them on all at the same time won’t be an issue if it came to that. The problem is hiding the bodies afterwards.

“…meeting with her? She… some fun and… check the new batch.”

Just what are they talking about? What tests, what subjects…

I want to get closer to the three men because I’m a little far to hear their conversation clearly, but that’s too risky. And if I jump them, there’s no guarantee whoever lives will crack before I need to make it to the Skellig room.

Discreetly, I pull out my phone and check the time. I need to head over, but this could be important, so I find myself with a dilemma. Do I trust Hex to handle things with Claire while I find out what this is about, or do I not?

I go over everything that has happened on this cruise and analyze it. He’s certainly shown growth, dependence. From the moment we boarded, he’s taken the initiative and helped me progress this mission. If not for him, we wouldn’t even be here. I’ve always known he was capable, but it hadn’t occurred to me that his skills and resourcefulness could go beyond the world of computers.

Yet, that doesn’t make him a fighter. I can’t expect him to be able to defend himself just because he’s not as clueless about the real world as I might have thought. But he’s a diplomat, he has a way to make you underestimate him. To trust him. To let him guide you around in circles so he can get what he wants.

I inhale deeply, letting the flow of oxygen calm my nerves. I’ll train him in self-defense the first chance I get, so my mind can be at ease when I’m not there to protect him. So that I can worry less every time he’s not in my sight. It’s the healthy thing to do, so I don’t suffocate him. And the first step is to trust him here and now, because I might be on the brink of a breakthrough.

That doesn’t mean I’m going to waste time waiting around for these three to finish chit-chatting, risks be damned. I need to know about these tests and subjects and where they are being held. And I need to know now.

I tuck my phone back inside my pocket, roll my shoulders, stretch them, and charge at the man closest to me. My arm is around his neck in the blink of an eye, while my second one connects with the stomach of the guy who was standing on his right. The one I’m strangling didn’t say much during their discussion, it was mostly the other two, so without much ado, I squeeze on his airways until he’s limp and unconscious.

While the guy I punched is stunned, I take on the last one. He puts his arms up to block a frontal jab, but I get him in the side with an uppercut. He yelps and gasps, clearly not expecting it, which proves to me that my initial observation was correct—none of them knows much about fighting. They must leave that part to their bodyguards.

This will make things easier.

Throwing the way I came a glance to ensure no one has spotted our scuffle, I grab my three victims by the collars of their suits and drag them one by one to the dark corner I was inhabiting. It’s out of direct sight of the hallway, thus giving me a bit of privacy. I still need to figure out what to do with the three men once I am done interrogating them, but I guess that’s happening on the go.

I squat down next to the two disoriented men and lace my fingers together. “Gentlemen, I have a few questions I’d like you to answer.”

They groan in pain a few times, one hugging himself and the other one clutching his jaw. When our gazes lock, I see unfocused anger across from me, which turns into murder as my two companions seem to regain most of their awareness.

“You are dead!” the braver of the two shouts, raising his hand.

I grab it, squeeze and twist. “I would advise against attempting anything stupid unless you want to end up like your friend.” I tilt my chin at the guy to my left who’s sprawled unconscious across the floor. The one whose hand I’m clamping whimpers in agony as I tighten my hold.

The truth is, I’m a little rusty. I haven’t had to get my hands dirty since I stepped away from being Kwanchai’s bodyguard and Leo took over. My CSO position keeps me too preoccupied with running things, and the executive meetings just never end. But my relatively civilian life doesn’t mean that I have suddenly forgotten who I am or what I am capable of. Quite the contrary—those kinds of things stay with you forever, just like riding a bike does. Nowadays, I don’t think about my time in the Thai Army as much as I used to the first few years, but I get the occasional twitch for adrenaline now and then. Working with Daichi and the Akiyama Group gave me an outlet for it, though with recent developments and my appointment to the less gray areas of our business, I haven’t had as many opportunities to blow off some steam.

Luckily, it seems like tonight is the night and I’ve already found my first victims.

I squeeze the man’s hand harder, making him cry out in pain. “I am in a hurry, so why don’t you tell me what I want to know?” I prompt, studying their scrunched faces. If I am not wrong, one is a bigshot in the pharma industry, and the other one is a famous billionaire philanthropist from the US. I certainly wonder what someone like him is doing dipping his toes in the drug business.

The man I’ve left alone tries to make a run for it. I shoot up, lifting the guy whose wrist I am still clenching, and twist sideways, crashing my shoulder into the runner as he leaps over the body on the floor. Loss of balance compromises his trajectory, but before he’s fallen on the ground, I shove the one I was talking to into him.

They collide, then crash into the wall from the force of my throw, groaning and grunting and swearing. I grab them by the throats and pin them against the cold glass. “What are these tests you were talking about? Talk or you’ll be swimming to catch up to the ship!”

The billionaire pales in terror and opens his mouth to answer, but the pharma bigshot cuts him off, “Don’t tell him anything! Security will be here any moment!”

I glare at him and he visibly shivers, but still bares his teeth at me. “You are dead, you hear me? Dea—”

A punch point-blank in the nose shuts up the pharma heir. He didn’t even have time to react as I let go of his neck, that’s how quickly and fluidly my hand moved. I don’t need him, especially if he’ll only get in the way of the other one fessing up.

Letting go of the now unconscious man whose nose will need some serious surgery, I turn to my last victim. He’s maybe around fifty, with thinning brown hair and a round face I recognize seeing on the news. If I am not wrong, his latest altruistic endeavor was a donation to a group home in an Eastern European country.

“Imagine the backlash if the public found out you hang out with drug lords.” I just look at him as he shakes like a leaf, the vibrations flowing into me through where my hand is still clutching his neck. “Or that you want a cut of their pie.”

“Please don’t kill me,” he begs, spit and snot dripping down his face. “I’m new to this, I swear! They only approached me recently.”

I don’t care about that or about the way his conscience rationalizes and justifies all the bad and illegal things he does on a daily basis. “Who are they? And tell me about the tests and where they take place.”

He swallows hard, eyes watering as I tighten my hold. “They didn’t say exactly! I’m new, I told you! But uh, Claire Streiss is one of them and the tests are for the drug. That’s all I know. She was going to take me there and show me after the party.”

“There, where ?”

He winces, clearly weighing whether to tell me the truth or lie. “The residences’ deck! That’s all I know, I swear! Only she and a few others know the exact locations of the access points to the labs. Ali said they always blindfold him before he goes down there.”

I peek at the two downed men. Ali must be the one who was stupid enough to threaten me.

“Please, let me go now! I promise I won’t tell anyone!”

My attention snaps back to the blabbering billionaire who keeps begging me for his life. My phone alarm goes off too, telling me that right now I should be carrying a tray of drinks past the bodyguards guarding the stairs to the second floor and not chatting with trash in a smoking room.

I consider that and my options. Clearly, things aren’t going according to plan, but as much as I hate when that happens, we also have a lead now, and the night isn’t even over yet.

Angling my hand so I have a better grip, I pinch the billionaire’s carotid artery in that way they taught us during training. It’s the quickest and most effective way to make someone pass out. By the time my victim catches up to what’s happening, it’s already too late, and within seconds, he’s out cold.

Now, what the fuck do I do with the three unconscious men?

Even though it’s dark with only dim light making it in from the corridor, once your eyes are used to the gloom, the pile of sleeping people becomes immediately obvious. So I can’t just leave them like this or it won’t be long before someone discovers them and informs security. A lockdown is not unlikely, and then it’s just a matter of waking them up and getting my description before all hell breaks loose.

It’s the last thing Hex and I need on our heads.

Down the hall, chairs scrape against the floor as the music pauses and a DJ announces something. I don’t care about what he says, but as the music restarts and cheers erupt, I figure a way out of my tight spot. It’s not ideal and it will only buy us so much time, but I intend to get to the bottom of this tonight, or we might not get another chance.

Making sure no one is headed to the smoking area, I slip out and drag a few of the vacant chairs over from the parlor. Whatever the DJ announced has everyone’s focus on the stage where two dancers sway their glitter-covered bodies, and I use that to my advantage. Once I’ve plopped the three unconscious men on the chairs in a way that makes them look less passed-out than they are, I place a bottle of whiskey on the floor in front of them, and check the time. I’m running five minutes late.

Quicker than an Olympic sprinter, I drop by the bar to pick up the tray of drinks, and head upstairs to the second floor, hoping that Hex hasn’t turned into a damsel in distress just yet.