'You are going to help me acquire something very valuable,' he spoke close to my ear, his breath fanning down my neck.
I looked up at the paintings in front of us, all worth millions of pounds, and then at the spot on the wall where one was missing...
Zayn was tasked with keeping Atlas company today while I contacted who I needed to. Setting up extra protection for someone without them knowing is a difficult task. While I hate how paranoid she already is, feeling like there's a million eyes on her, I have to add more to ensure that there is someone there when I can't be. God forbid someone attacks her when I'm not there, I'll never forgive myself.
From tonight, there will be 24 hour supervision around her building, and any other area she frequents, until this problem is dealt with. She doesn't need to know; it won't change anything. I told her I'd protect her; this is a promise I intend to keep. I'm lucky that I have the best contacts in the security industry after years of working with them on heists and robberies. They're always the first to sign up to those schemes. Most heists throughout history have involved someone on the inside, and if there's not someone willing then you throw another in to get the intel you need. It's an easy way around the systems put in place to guard the things we steal. Authorities are always thrown off by it, still stupidly convinced that the people working these jobs are the highest standing citizens. The irony is the police are just as corrupt as the criminals.
Once that was set up, I made it my mission to organise this meeting. The team didn't know, they'd protest the idea and insist on coming. I don't need backup, though, I've dealt with this woman enough times over the years to know how to handle her antics. She's inherently insecure, hiding behind the force of her father. Harmless, really. Until she opens her mouth and runs to Daddy.
Footsteps echo around me, the darkness hiding whoever it is. The scent of her strong perfume invades my nostrils the minute she's in the vicinity. Her silhouette appears, and through the distant lights I finally see her face.
Santine Charles.
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She looks the same as she did the last time I saw her. Undeniably beautiful but with a wicked glint in her eyes. Still wearing that same signature red lipstick. Draped around her is a leopard print coat. It's obviously real fur, but to the public she's always claimed to be an activist against these things. She has everyone in the palm of her hand, spinning whatever image she wants, and they eagerly drink it up. Underneath the material I spot a sheer black blouse, her boobs pushed up in the black bra. I was right, she came to entertain a show tonight.
There's a smirk on her lips as she looks me up and down at a devilishly slow pace, letting her eyes focus on my crotch before making their way up to my lips. Once settled on my eyes, she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and waves her fingers lightly. 'Good to see you, H.'
I scoff at the pleasantry, looking out over the river next us. The tower block about a mile down is reflecting in it, a chequer board effect present with the random lights switched on throughout the building. A quiet breeze picks up between us, my hair coming over my eyes briefly before I push it away, looking back over to her. Her own curls are dancing around in the wind. 'Wish I could say the same for you,' I announce.
