Mask of Lies

Give Me a Name

Evan's Penthouse

19:02

She was sitting before him, enjoying her dinner and he simply couldn't touch a piece of the exquisite dish which emanated a wonderful scent.

With her chopsticks, she raised the sushi with ease and bit into it. "You look tense, chief."

"I'm literally hiding a criminal."

She smiled, "I never asked you to."

"Can't we get down to business?"

"Sure... Once I'm done!"

Evan knew she was taking all her time deliberately. It was actually entertaining watching how delicate she was with her hands. It was clear, seeing the delight on her face that she was enjoying the food. And the way she casually sipped into that expensive wine, savouring each drops.

He averted his eyes when she caught him. She smiled to herself. To say she was worthy of this man's thoughts. She finally pushed her plate aside and said, "MRT Colonial. 4 p.m. I was just asked to go there and I'll receive further instructions."

The name rang a bell in his head. He looked at his untouched plate for a moment, held her patient eyes the next and carefully said, "Yes...VIPs are boarding this train to come and honour the president. They'll deliver speeches or something."

"I've a feeling he's going to kill them."

He frowned as those words left her mouth. She shrugged, "It's a good start right?"

"Wait here." He came back with a sheet of paper and a pencil and ordered, "Draw the big boss for me. You can't give me a name...but you sure hell can give me a face, right?"

"I can give you more, Evan." His thoughts instantly shifted where they shouldn't. She realised what went up his head and she twitched her lips into a seductive smile, "I know where he's operating..." He gawked at her in disbelief, "Then what are you waiting for?"

She started drawing from memory and answered, "You just have to promise me that you won't meddle in any way. I have things to do there."

"Like what?!"

"Earn more cash."

He stood with rage, "Damn it, Sylvia. If it's for your colleague Clay, the FBI is willing to pay for the full treatment provided you give me concrete information...and stop acting so egoistically."

The pencil trembled as she applied pressure. A one-time opportunity. She needed this aid. "I'm honoured but no."

"Why?"

She arched an eyebrow at him, "You said it. I'm selfish. I take care of my own things."

"Oh come on."

"Sorry. Can't help you."

He slammed his hands on the table, "This is stupid. Tell me where to find that bloody criminal or I'll hand you to the FBI."

"You are the FBI and I think I'm already in good hands."

"Heavens, tell me she's joking! Look, finish that portrait and come to me. Then we'll talk." Realising he was exhausted, he stretched his arms and walked to his room, glancing at her for one last time, "I need that name, Sylvia. And don't bother to leave. I'll know. I'm watching you."

"Idiot." She whispered before resuming her task.

She swore she'd lose her temper if he'd order her around like this. What the heck was she even doing? She was playing with fire on both sides. Here, with the director and there with that...man.

It turned out to be more complicated than she thought. It was imperative that she saved him and if that wasn't realisable, the next right thing to do was to assassinate him. If it was only for cash, she wouldn't be risking her life like this.

She held her glass and played with the bloody red wine, recalling the president's face. How could she have done something like that?

Soon she walked till Evan's room, the drawing in her hand. She knocked once and opened, "I'm done. You have to let me go now."

He had his towel around his waist and looked a bit offended, probably because she was invading his privacy. What a gorgeous sight to the eyes though...

So this was how he looked like when he wasn't wearing a good suit.

Interesting.

He took the sheet from her and without even glancing at it, he firmly said, "The hell I'll let you go. I have to keep an eye on you."

"And I have to keep an eye on them. I told you earlier, Evan...Use me as an infiltration tool. Is it that hard to understand?"

She graced him with a saccharine smile and he pointed that, "Exactly. Look at you. I can't trust someone who's manipulative to that extent!"

She stepped up to him, gently touched his jaw with her fingers and whispered, "You've yet to see my manipulation skills, sweetheart."

Evan shoved her hands away, annoyed at her behaviour. He tsked, "Fine. Keeping you here won't benefit anyway."

She mocked, "How smart! I'll make a move then. Ciao."

He instantly gripped her arm, halting her in her steps, "Got something for you first." She could look nowhere else than into his mysterious eyes. Darn. She could lose herself in them. And at this irrational closeness that they were, she was ready to take whatever he could offer her.

He released her reluctantly, startling her even more. He walked to a drawer, took out something and approached her once again. He lifted her hand, the contact was sizzling and they both felt it.

Deliberately ignoring that, he clasped an electronic bracelet around her wrist, "Now you're good to go."

The bastard. "You're charming but what's that?"

"A tracking device. Any efforts to remove it will give you a good lethal dose of electric shock."

She pursed her lips, "Really charming. And I thought you—"

He cocked an eyebrow and she bit her lips, "Never mind. Ciao." He was too dense to hear something like that. She chuckled, ran her fingers in her hair and made her way out, aware that he'd be looking at her till she'd stay in his sight.

And once she was gone, he grabbed the paper to look at the detailed portrait she made. He admitted she was skilful with her hands. He then stared at the man's face, instantly recognising him.

Seth Tolland. Hell. The president's son?

He died a year ago when terrorists attacked the white house. Evan recalled seeing the president and his wife crying over this young man's lifeless body.

He even assisted the funeral. If Sylvia was not pulling a prank on him and Seth was actually alive...the question was how? The thought of the artefact instantly popped in his mind.