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“Where the hell are Lock and Tabs?”
That question earned me a growl from Gabe. “Not bloody here, are they?”
Was it unusual for Gabe to be in a shady mood? No. Was it unusual for him to be in a shit mood and taking it out on all the rest of us? Yes. He wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy, but you always knew you were respected. Something was up.
Finally, Lock and Tabs walked in with apologetic nods of acknowledgment. Lock open his mouth like he was going to talk, but it was Tabatha who spoke at first. “Apologies for our delay. Gennifer Goode from Oversight requested an audience with us. She wanted to know about the Igno situation.”
I could practically see the lava escaping from Gabe’s ears. But it was Saffron who was well and truly ticked off. “And why would she be getting information from you two?”
“We asked the same thing, as we are not primary or Ops Command,” Lock said. “She fed us some bullshit about how Oversight from time to time wanted team insight.”
“That’s a load of shit. No one from Oversight has ever requested a meeting with me,” Saff said.
I could see the tension in Gabe’s shoulders. “I’ll address her after this meeting. For now, let’s focus on this Igno mission so we can brief Rook. We have word that he is going to be at a secret meeting at the Bedford Manor. We’ve got some players we haven’t seen out in the wild in a bit. If we play our cards right, we’ll be able to tag and trace several of them while also grabbing up Igno.”
So we were just going to fucking ignore the fact that Oversight had just meddled with Rogues? I itched to ask, but something told me that was information I did not need to have.
“Rook, you’re on assignment that night correct?”
I nodded. “Yep, I got the duty roster this morning. I’m not sure what Montgomery is playing at. He knows we’ve obviously got pressure on us. Nissa’s flat was ransacked. Common Denominator is Igno. Our threat level is red right now for this gala.”
“You’ll be with the principal. Saff and Lock will be on the ground along with me and Saint. We’ll send schematics to your tablet. But your job is simple; stay on Nissa. And get us visual confirmation as well as audio. Some of that will need to be done on-site after arrival. Saff will shadow Montgomery. All other eyes are on Igno.”
“Copy. And if anything goes wrong? If I have the chance to take Igno?” I asked.
He shook his head. “You call for back up. Do you understand?”
I knew how important Igno was. He was the end game. If there was a chance to end this, to make Nissa safe, I didn’t give a fuck what my orders were. I was going to take it.
Nissa
I tried to keep my posture straight and not peek back at Westin. I could sense his eyes lingering on me, and in spite of the fear that gripped me, it was a comforting feeling. I was surrounded by criminals and people that my father had wronged in some way. Knowing that Westin was here with me, watching my back, made me feel protected, but it terrified me to think of all the potential repercussions if Amelia’s plan went wrong.
The waiter passed with glasses of champagne, and I selected one, my father giving me an admonishing glare as he talked to someone whose name I couldn't remember, which was probably for the best.
I was doing my best to do my job. Which was wear the glasses, stand dutifully by my father's side, and nod at the appropriate times.
Dad had been displeased by my eyewear. First thing he'd asked me when I came down the stairs in my dress was, "Why are you wearing glasses?"
I'd made the excuse about my contacts irritating my eyes, but I could tell he didn't like how I looked. Didn't matter. I didn't care.
Eyes on the prize.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Amelia. She had come to stun in a white and red open-backed dress. The gathered silk plunged off her shoulders and pooled at her waist, where it was tied with a belt of hand-woven rope. She also wore red high heels, and her long black hair was swept back from her forehead. She was stunning, but I quickly diverted my attention back to my father because that was the gig.
This is all you have to do. Do it well, and you'll be done.
As the minutes ticked by slowly, I wished that I could talk to Westin. At least a dance or something. But no, I stayed right next to Julian.
My father leaned over to me at one point and tapped my glass with his. "Look alive, Nissa. Maybe we should dance?"
I widened my eyes. "What?"
He rolled his. "Dance. The point is to mingle and look like you're enjoying yourself. You look miserable."
I sighed, placing my glass on the passing tray of a waiter. "I don't remember the last time we danced."
He smiled. "It was your 20th birthday. Remember?"
