Rule number fourteen; men deserve compliments too.
I walk into the sitting room, stopping slightly at the sight of Cleo at the coffee table, pieces of metal, plastic, wires, and small containers of powders in front of her.
She looks up when I enter before going back to assembling the bomb, her finger working deftly. I take a seat watching her and she lets me.
"Who taught you to make bombs?" I ask after a few minutes of silence.
"My mother taught me when I was young."
"How young?"
"I was four the first time she helped me create one."
"Four?"
Cleo's grins, brushing a strand of bubble-gum pink curls behind her ear. "Said it was a vital life lesson to learn."
"And is it?"
"It's come in handy." She looks up at me, "What about you? What did your mother teach you."
I swallow at the subject.
"My mother died not long after giving birth to me, I lived with my uncle and cousins for a few years before Director found me."
"I'm sorry."
"I didn't know her." My eyes go towards two figures in the adjoining room, talking quietly amongst themselves. Shirtless.
Clay and Archer laugh, capturing the attention of Cleo.
I watch the woman as she watches them, her eyes on Clay, dipping over his exposed upper body.
"So, what's going on there?"
Her head snaps to me, "What?"
"Between you and Clay, are you guys dating?"
She shakes her head, wild curls falling into her face. "No."
I narrow my eyes, "But you want to be?"
"It's complicated."
"Is it really complicated or are you just scared?"
Cleo's eyes narrow on me, before flickering back to Clays figure, "His ex was my best friend."
"His ex?"
"Scarlett." Cleo fills in, "She died almost a year ago. She used to be a part of this team."
"Is that whose room-"
"Yeah." She says softly, "Director put you here to take her place."
I look away, guilt hitting me.
"How did she die?"
"A mission went wrong."
I look back to Clay, watching him move around the mat, spinning around Archer.
"Is he still in love with her?"
Cleo takes a sharp intake in, "I don't know. I don't think so."
"So why don't you say something to him?"
"Like I said, it's complicated." Her fingers fiddle around the piece of metal grasped between them. "When she died, we leant on each other." Her voice is tight with emotion as she continues on. "We were there for each other, he became my person, you know?"
I blink as my mind conjured up an image of Lilac. "I know."
"I don't want to ruin that." Cleo drops the metal she fiddles with, laying her palms flat on the surface. "He's my person, and I don't want to lose him."
It's silent after her confession and I look back to Clay, seeing his eyes on us, suspicion in his gaze as he looks at me before his brows furrow with concern looking at Cleo.
"I don't think you would." I mutter, and Cleo looks to me, "Lose him, I mean." I shrug, "It may not work out, but I honestly think he'll always be there. Anyone can see he cares for you."
"But he doesn't love me." She says softly, pushing herself up from the table. "It doesn't matter anyway. Nothing is going to happen."
I watch her walk away, head downwards as she rushes up the stairs and I look back to Clay, seeing his eyes following her ascent.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that." I whisper before pushing myself up, pausing when a message tone cuts through the silence.
I retrieve my phone, reading the message before looking up, finding both Clay and Archers eyes on me.
"It's Lucien, he's invited me out tonight."
"Where?" Archer asks, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
"The casino."
• • •
The tight dress hugs my body snuggly, the crimson gown complimenting my olive skin tone.
The limousine rumbles as we drive along the cobblestone path.
I cross my legs and stare out the window, watching the team through their reflections.
I tilt my head subtly, keeping my gaze locked on them, scanning their images.
Liam smirks as he fixes the bow at the nape of his neck. Unclipping it from its neat position and letting it hang lazily across his neck. A peek of a tattoo shows where the sleeve of his shirt ends, a drawing of a scythe - deaths weapon rendered intricately on his forearm. Smaller tattoos pepper his forearms and knuckles, the look the opposite of his puppy-like personality.
He runs his hands through his hair, messing with the strawberry blonde strands to fall over his forehead.
The look more boyish charm than Bond.
Cleo sits across from him, applying a fresh coat of gloss to her lips. Smoothing the pure white of her dress down her legs before fixing her bright pink heels. Her brown skin has a perfect glow to it without taking away her natural beauty. Her freckles still prominent on her wide nose and mauve cheeks.
Her slender neck is adorned with a diamond necklace, the gems falling languidly over her collarbones and glinting under the moonlight that shines through the window as we travel.
She leans back in the seat, capturing Clay's attention and she smiles.
Clay shakes his head, ash blonde hair falling into his eyes. He pushes it back, combing through the strands before fixing his tie, avoiding looking back at Cleo. He places his elbows on his knees, leaning forward slightly too murmur something to Cleo that I only faintly make out.
"You look beautiful."
I suppress my grin.
His thin lips spread into a slight smile. His jacket falls open slightly, revealing the harness and two guns strapped to his chest beneath his jacket.
His green eyes darken, a gleam in them before he sits back as if nothing happened, Cleo leaning back with a blush, slender fingers moving to the hair behind her ear, toying with the strands in thought.
I look away, fixing my position and turning my gaze away from my window to look out the other side, my eyes finding Archer leaning back lazily against the seat, staring out his window.
His white shirt is unbuttoned, showcasing the tan of his chest. The suit jacket placed over his lap as he sits with his arms crossed, coiled muscle showing along his forearms, veins visible. His fingers tap languidly against his thigh.
My skin heats at the memory of those fingers on my skin, dragging over my pulse points, that mouth so close to mine.
A five O'clock shadow adorns his cheeks, drawing the eyes to the sharp contrast of his jaw. His dark brown hair is styled away from his face, showcasing the intense facial features and hazel eyes.
The same hazel eyes that watch my reflection in the window. He lifts a taunting brow when my eyes meet his, the corners of his lips lifting as his green and gold gaze travels down the side of my neck.
Heat follows his gaze as if a physical entity and I straighten my shoulders, lifting a brow back at him, holding his gaze.
He grins in the reflection as the car starts rolling to a stop.
"Do you know where you're meeting him?" I rip my attention from Archer, moving it towards the blonde-haired man staring at me, his green eyes fixed on mine.
"He told me which table he would be at; I'll go in and find him there." I answer.
Clay nods, pulling his attention away from me. "Our main objective is to get inside the top office so we can plant some cameras and listening devices." He nods to Liam, "You know what you're doing?"
The boy nods and I raise a brow.
Archer notices and smirks, "Plan B. You know just in case plan A fails."
I narrow my eyes, lifting a sarcastic brow, "And what's the plan when we both fail?"
Liam replies, outraged. "Have more faith in me, Ellie"
"Well, we'll see who wins then." I taunt with a sauntering smile.
Archer answers my taunt with a grin of his own.
"May the best man win." He murmurs lowly.
"Woman." Cleo and I say at the same time. I glance to the side, sharing a laugh with her.
And she turns to Archer with a lifted brow, "Maybe we should bet on it?"
"Ooh," Liam mutters, "And what will I get when I win?"
"Who says your side will win?" Cleo says.
"I do not pick sides, I pick winners." Liam replies, grinning cheekily.
Cleo rolls her eyes, "I can see your loyalty can be bought."
Liam grins, "With gold coins baby."
Cleo lifts brow back at the two men silent though the conversation, and Clays face gets contemplative, and he drags his eyes down Cleo's body, before his eye find hers.
"I know what I want."
Cleo chokes on a cough, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of plum, and she clears her throat.
I look away as Liam makes a gagging motion, my eyes settling on Archer.
He grins freely, the sight causing the air to suck back through my lips. His eyes find mine, alight with mirth.
"You're on." He says lowly, his words for Cleo but his eyes on mine.
I can feel my competitive nature rising and I straighten in my seat before popping the door open and sliding one heeled foot onto the pavement below before I turn to the side to look at Archer, "When I win, I'll have you begging-"I mutter, "for mercy."
I slip from the car, feeling a scorching gaze down my spine, the skin of my back unobscured by fabric.
Red pools at my ankles as the gown falls to skim the cobblestone path. A small smile graces my lips as I walk languidly away from the car, my heels silent on the steps.
Cars line the path leading to the doors. Lush green hedges fencing the walkway and the garden.
Security roams the grounds, expensive perfume permeating the air as I enter the large room.
Lush greenery and lights cloud the corner of my sight as I make it up the steps. Fairy lights sprinkle along the tall trees, the leaves that curve over the entryway to the mansion, dangling down like rain droplets.
My red bottom heels tap against the marble stairs. Delicate fingers holding my dress up, so I don't step on it.
I nod in acknowledgment to the two men standing at the entrance. Breezing past them into the luxury casino.
Chatter and laughter reach my ears and I walk up the three steps before the entrance.
Slowing my walk, I swipe a flute of champagne from a moving tray. Weaving between the crowd, eyes straying over the many faces.
The bright lights shine down on me, illuminating the twinkle in my eyes.
I glance at the many crystal chandeliers dangling from the rooftop. My eyes scan poker faces and game tables, drunken expressions, and intertwined hands.
I store everyone's faces in my mind and what table they sit at, the games they're playing and the money they're losing. Or winning - but mostly losing as I try to catch a glimpse of the target.
I can feel the poker chips heavy weight in my clutch, the ones I'd left the house late last night to steal. As long as they stay in my clutch, they can't be tracked. A special fabric lining the inside seam that blocks any tracking device from working.
I catch sight of the target and start making my way there.
I take a slow sip of my drink, letting the bubbly liquid settle in my stomach before letting my lips tilt up in a smile.
I can feel the others at my back as we stalk through tables and around groups of people.
Their heat trailing me as I lead the way. We are almost to his table when he spots me, and I quickly cast my eyes towards his. Mine showing excitement.
He rounds the table quickly, reaching a hand out to me. I take it in mine and let the man pull me into his cologne drenched body.
"My lucky charm." He murmurs close to my ear, slipping his arm around my waist and kissing the corner of my lips.
I melt into his embrace, staring up at him like he hung the stars in the sky as he smirks down at me. "You left early that night."
I shrug, lifting a hand to sweep my hair behind my ear. "I didn't think you'd want me to stay over."
"But you left your number?" He raises a brow.
I shrug, smiling coyly, "I was hoping you would use it."
He grins, beginning to move us towards the game table, his hand smoothing down my back to rest on the curve of my ass.
I take a seat at the poker table, my face showing excitement and happiness.
Lucien Eilish glances at me, his smile wide and eyes following the contours of my body.
Putting a hand around my waist he drags me closer to him before he kisses me forcefully. I kiss back, cheeks blushing.
"Do you have room for one more?" A voice pierces my resolve and I pull back to glance at the direction the voice is coming from.
Narrowing my eyes as Archer takes a seat beside a young lady.
I turn back to Lucien and ignore Archer.
"I've never been so glad to see someone in my life." Lucien whispers in my ear, his hands tightening possessively against my waist.
I glance into his eyes and smile sultrily, my voice coming out breathy and husky as I reply.
"Neither have I." I trail a hand along his arm and up to his shoulder, squeezing and letting it rest there lazily.
My eyes catch hazel ones and I look around for the other teammates. Catching them all in various positions, Clay and Cleo beside each other and Liam surrounded by two fawning women.
Lucien's muscles contract under my palm and his fingers grasp my own, pulling them down into his lap. The warmth of his hand encompassing mine as he sits our hands a little too close for comfort to a certain appendage.
I try not to roll my eyes.
Money is strewn across the table. Jewels that were once adorning the necks of the women beside me now resting in another's hands.
Throats bob nervously, some in anguish as the game ends and another starts.
The roll of the dice is the only sound the people around the table focus on in this rowdy casino. Snake eyes glare back at the table and resounding groans follow.
Lucien's hand leaves my own, his fingers grasping my cheeks and pulling me towards him. He claims my lips in a too-long kiss.
"For good luck." He whispers against my lips.
I draw away on a shaky breath.
"Good luck." I whisper back.