Page 11 of Damián

Ughhh… “Perdón!”

“Right side is clear!” Logan yells, dropping a man charging at us with a knife.

But unlike us, Knox ignores the combat entirely. He goes to the hostage tied to a chair in the center of the room… a terrified teenage girl with duct tape over her mouth.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Tae dashes into the room, now right behind Knox, sliding on his knees to get to her side. “Are you hurt?”

“They hit me on—” The teenager looks at Tae and gasps, and I swear her mouth falls open.

Tae is the youngest of our team. He’s twenty-five, and looks just like a K-pop star. All silky black and red hair, dark eyes, and angelic features. He hates when people are infatuated by his looks, so of course, I’m going to give him so much shit for this.

“You got hit on the head?” Tae asks, and she nods while he is already checking her pupils and any other signs of concussion.

Björn and I sweep the back of the room. I check the closet, clear. Björn checks the bathroom, clear.

“Hostage secured,” Logan says into his radio. “Leif, get us out of here.”

“On it, boss.”

Logan holsters his weapon and gives the teen a firm squeeze on the shoulder. “Come on, kid. Ready to go home?”

The teen collapses against Logan’s chest, crying hard and repeating the word “thank you” over and over again.

— ¤ —

Night of the Gala

The Harknett HQ has turned into a messy dressing room divided by a very distinct line: “The Masquerade Team” versus “The Extraction Team.”

On one side of the room, Björn, Logan, Tae, and I are standing in front of full-length mirrors, getting dressed. And since the gala has a “Masquerade Burlesque” theme, we are wearing the hottest costumes I’ve seen in years.

I mean, even Logan looks like a mob boss.

He’s wearing charcoal dress trousers that make his gray eyes pop, a fitted black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and over the shirt, he has thick leather suspenders.

He looks freaking awesome.

Me? I’m wearing a sheer, long-sleeved button-down that leaves nothing to the imagination, tucked into high-waisted dress pants, also with silk suspenders.

And well… I guess I accidentally unlocked a new kink because being dressed in this outfit is doing it for me.

On the other side of the room, the vibes are completely different. Leif, Law, and Knox are strapping Kevlar vests over their chests and sharpening some knives.

Leif shoves a Glock into a thigh holster while looking at us with pure disdain.

“I still don’t get it. Why can’t I go to the gala but Björn can? He can’t even go undercover; everyone knows who he is.”

“True, but your brother is a notorious hedonist. No one will find it the least bit odd to see him at a gala like this,” says Law, while covering his copper-red hair with a black cap. “It’s practically his natural habitat.”

I smirk at Leif. “Aww, jealous you can’t party?”

“Yes! Maybe I could go for a bit and pretend to be Björn. It’s not like anyone can tell my face apart from my idiot brother’s.”

Björn ties his ashy blond hair into a man bun and puts on a gorgeous pair of low-slung black trousers. He is skipping the shirt entirely, adding only a cropped, open vest that leaves his tattooed torso on display. While Leif’s skin is a walking forest of pines and wolves, Björn’s body is covered in Viking runes.

Well… mostly.