Page 125 of Damián

“You are ridiculous.” I laugh, and man, it feels nice to actually laugh. “But yes, thank you for that insanely manipulative way to fix my lack of communication with Dami.”

“No need to thank me. Just don’t forget to name the baby you adopt after me.” She winks at me and chugs the last of her champagne.

“Damián said he was proud of me.”

“He better fucking be.” She offers me her hand with a bright grin. “Now stop sulking and take me to dance. We gotta take some selfies!”

— ¤ —

Five hours later, I finally made it home. I drag myself through the front door and head straight for the stairs.

“Sir…”

I turn around to find Martin standing by the coat rack. “Martin, it’s six in the fucking morning. Why are you awake?”

“Your father is calling for you.”

“I just cleaned up one of his messes. I am high, drunk, and tired as fuck.” I rub my eyes, desperately trying to stay awake, since aside from the being ‘high’ part, everything else is true. “Tell him Castor has everything he needs, and that I’ll talk to him tomorrow when I wake up.”

“I understand,” he says, and heads toward his office.

I climb the stairs, flop face-first onto my bed, and instantly pass out… completely unaware of what a massive mistake ignoring my father would turn out to be.

CHAPTER 15

DAMIÁN

Idrop a duffel bag on top of the armory desk and just stare at the wall. Hanging in front of me are rows of AR-15s, shotguns, submachine guns, and even a katana…

Damn it… what do I take?…

I am stunned, because for the first time since we opened Harknett, I have absolutely no idea what I need to take with me on the mission… and that’s because, for the first time in Harknett history, we are heading into a raid completely blind.

Harry contacted us this morning with a tip that there will be a 16:00 meeting between three of the names on our list, and frankly, that’s a bust we can’t afford to miss… even if we are this freaking unprepared.

“What the hell do I take?” Leif asks, voicing my exact thoughts out loud.

“I was wondering the same thing,” I admit, turning around to check on the rest of the team.

Tae is packing a trauma kit that could supply an entire hospital, Knox decided on a rifle and two sidearms, and Björn… Björn has two machetes crisscrossed on his back, a handgun on his hip, an assault rifle slung across his chest, and is inspecting a bazooka.

He catches my shocked expression and flashes a cocky grin. “You know I am never unprepared, Dami.”

Alexios walks in, his wavy brown hair tied in a ponytail. He hands each of us an earpiece with a built-in mic and a biometric bracelet that, if our vitals spike or drop, automatically sends him a distress signal along with our exact GPS location.

“Here, Dami.”

“Thanks,” I say, snapping the bracelet onto my wrist.

“Has Oliver contacted you?” Logan asks, walking into the room, and starts to gear up for the raid. “Does he know anything about this?”

“He hasn’t. Yesterday was the Stevens’ extraction, and he didn’t get home until six in the morning, so I assume he’s still asleep.” I check the time… It is 2:00 p.m.

He texted me around six saying he was home and exhausted. That is eight hours of sleep, but after what he went through… yeah, I give him at least two more hours before he wakes up.

“I’m not liking this, boss,” Law says, packing ammo for his sniper rifle.

“Neither do I,” Logan admits. “But I don’t know when we’ll get another opportunity like this, and I trust all Harknetts to know exactly what to do, even if we’re going in blind.”