STEAM & SMOKE | 18+

CHAPTER | 27 |

"I need you to listen to everything I say, angel. Every word," he said quietly. The seriousness in his voice made me still. "This isn't one of your FBI missions where if you fail you can go home. If we mess up, we die."

"I thought you had a plan."

"You think I'm the only person looking for De Vil?"

"This is a suicide mission," I exclaimed.

He laughed and straighten his tie. "Coming to Italy was the first mistake but Santan knew that."

"Why would he sent you here then?"

"He wants me killed, angel."

*****

The mansion we arrived at was grand - a red carpet, lights and obviously wealthy people entering with masks. Ace and Grey sat at the front of the car, acting as chauffeurs while Ghost sat beside me at the back. His mask was already on his face but it didn't hide how attractive he was, if anything it enhanced it. He caught me staring, his gold eyes meeting mine for a second before I turned away embarrassed and covered my face.

"The van is beside the other building near the main road as the map tells you. Two hours. Keep Honey with you and don't f*cking touch her," Ghost threatened as we crept closer to the entrance. "Good luck."

My heart rate went up as we exited the car, Ace holding the door open. No one paid us any attention only a few glances as we joined the queue, waiting to be checked off the list and by security. My gaze flicked around looking for De Vil or any possible threats until I felt a warm hand slip into mine shifting my attention.

"Breathe, angel," Ghost murmured. "Nothing will happen to you."

I exhaled, trying to calm my nerves. "You don't know that."

"The only way you're going to die is because of natural causes or I shoot you."

"That's not comforting."

"Enjoy the party. De Vil will come to you."

"If he wants to kiss me what should I do?" I asked, jokingly.

His grip on my hand tightened. "Tell him to f*ck himself."

Smiling, I continued. "I've seen the pictures of him and he's not bad looking."

"He's into human trafficking and sells weapons."

"You're an assassin."

"But at the end of the day, I'm the one f*cking you so either way I win."

I flushed red and rolled my eyes. "Why did you call me Honey?"

"Because you're the honey trap today and you're going to help me capture a criminal."

"Do I introduce myself as Milan or Honey or Angel?"

"Next!" The security guard yelled as it was our turn.

"I dare you to let him call you angel," Ghost replied then faced the man, handing him our invitations. "Mr. Host and my plus one."

The guard typed on his tablet then gestured we could enter, having to pass through a metal detector. I went first but held my breath when it was Ghost's turn. The confidence on his face as he passed through without it going off, put me at ease. Holding out his arm for me, we entered into a ballroom that was almost packed. The gentle buzz of people speaking Italian and English over the live music made it hard to pin point an American criminal.

"He could be anywhere," I muttered.

"His mask is blue," Ghost replied. "Don't look for him. He's not stupid."

"Okay."

The music in the room changed and people started dancing in pairs to the beat. "Let's join them," he decided, leading me to the dance floor. We swayed slowly, his hands settling on my waist reminding me who was in control. "When are you going to go back to New York?"

I blinked at the random question. "I guess when I find out who Sinners are and who you are."

"Have you figured it out?"

"You're a d*ck."

Ghost gave me a heartbreaking smile. "Very true." He glanced up. "Let Ace and Grey do their jobs, don't fight them. They need to think you're harmless. I'll see you in a few hours."

"But what-"

His grip on me disappeared as he melted into the crowd and vanished out of sight. I sighed and stood up straight, pretending to be one of the socialites around me. I made my way towards the bar, my leg flashing through the slit as I walked and sat down. I looked around keeping a bored expression on my face, tapping my nails on the table as if I was waiting for someone. And like Ghost said, he arrived.

His brown hair had streaks of grey as did his beard but you knew he was handsome even at his age. He knew it as well, moving with a sort of arrogance and dominance that got him into the weapons industry. He stood beside me, leaning against the bar counter.

"A drink for me and..." he faced me, a flirty grin on his face.

"Milan," I answered, smiling.