Page 48 of Reverence

She seemed like an angel but she happened to be the devil in disguise.

A witch who used her dark magic to manipulate the people around her.

The vicinity buzzed with subtle entitlement, everyone silently competing with each other.

Whose net worth was higher, whose bank account had more zeros in it, who could use their power to weave their way out of sticky situations.

“Jonathan Freeman.” A man with a Russian accent said, the voice coming from somewhere behind me.

I smoothed a palm over my tie, listening attentively. “I almost thought you’d taken a rain check tonight.”

I slowly turned around, only to get a glimpse of their faces.

Amala had a camera hidden in her necklace and I had one embedded into the buckle of my belt.

When I fully turned towards them I heard Kayden’s voice through my earpiece. “Got them.”

“No facial recognition for the Russian.” He said. “At least we’ve got the voice recording.”

I couldn’t respond because that would’ve been suspicious but I walked past them, making a beeline towards the bar.

“Where’s Enzo?” Jonathan asked and the Russian clicked his tongue.

“Business trip. Rodrigo needed his assistance for closing a deal in Vista.”

I frowned, making mental notes of the names.

Hoping the audio would be clear enough for the analysts to work with. Could Enzo or Rodrigo be Dominion?

When I reached the bar, I requested water.

Internally cursing at the fact that I couldn’t drink any alcohol. I needed it.

The two men walked by, moving toward a secluded section.

“Let’s discuss this in my office.” The Russian said and then they disappeared around the corner.

The bartender pushed the water towards me and I nodded.

I couldn’t follow them because security seemed to be tight and I couldn’t risk blowing my cover, getting caught, or endangering us.

Shit.

This could’ve been the break we needed. I kept looking in the direction both men walked and that’s when two bodyguards appeared, clad in black with earpieces in.

No doubt those men were high flyers with wealth and power.

Why else would you need men guarding your office if you weren’t hiding something?

I twisted my body around, scanning the crowd for Amala and that’s when I spotted her conversing with a man.

Tall, blonde hair, pristine beige suit. He held his hand out for her to take and she gracefully accepted.

Maxime Rodriguez’s Vivo Tango drowned out the sounds of chatter, each beat punching me in the gut as I watched the scene unfold.

He pulled her towards the dance floor, holding her close as they moved to the rhythm of the song.

There were a handful of people surrounding them, dancing along but my sight was only set on her and I found it disgusting—how I couldn’t get myself to look away.