Ben

I sipped my champagne, doing my level best to blend into the crowd. Easier said than done when my face was so damn recognizable.

As James Covington's son, it was difficult to be inconspicuous. After all, this was a fundraiser. Marcus Van Linsted had supported my father as Prime Minister, so I was expected to attend. And there were more than a few people who wanted to speak with me, or, at the very least, be seen speaking to me.

I knew how to do approachable but aloof. After all, I'd been doing it for years. It was just a matter of slipping on the mask. My gaze scanned the crowd and found our host easily enough.

"I've got him."

"Okay. Remember, you have to get close to him. It's going to take a full two minutes, maybe three. But once you have it, get the fuck out."

"Nothing more specific than that?" As plans went, sometimes East was lacking in detail.

"It's not an exact science. Remember we don't want anyone to know what you're doing."

"Right. Remind me the next time we steal sensitive information from our own secret society to put one of you in the field."

East chuckled.  "Then who would be on tech? You? That's a recipe for disaster."

Technology and I got along fine as long as I didn't have to rely on it for anything. I liked relying on myself. It was safer.

Relax. Don't rush. Take your time. Play the part.

Bram Van Linsted was in the middle of the crowd as the man of the hour. He was smiling and shaking hands. I needed to get this done now.

With dark hair and blue eyes, he was a charming git. Even in the middle of the crowd, it was easy to spot him. He was surrounded by people. After all, they wanted to curry favor. Van Linsted was filthy fucking rich with excellent political prospects. His family had served in politics for years until leaving for the private sector. Rumor was he'd be making his own political bid soon enough.

I knew what most of these people didn't know, though. Van Linsted wielded more power outside of politics than in it. And if there were to be any kind of elections, they wouldn't be by the people. They would be only by the people he looked upon as peers.

People like me, like my friends, were the kind of people he wanted to strip power from.

But now I had money. Not my father's money, my own. Between Bridge, East, and myself, we had enough power to dismantle the Elite. If we were smart.

Everything had to go right or the dominoes wouldn't fall the way we needed.

I bumped into a waiter as I marched toward my target, deliberately causing a minor crash. The guy had only two glasses on his tray, so the spill wasn't too bad.  "Mate, I'm sorry."

I made a show of attempting to help him and having to be saved by him instead.  It would be better if everyone thought I was pissed. They'd make assumptions that I was useless. Insignificant.

When I was back on my feet, I pulled my jacket back into place and leered at Van Linsted's date, Cassandra something or other. She was a model. There was something so familiar about her in the jawline. Had I shagged her? It was hard to remember that kind of thing. As much as I was doing this for show, playing the luxury—stricken playboy, there was some truth to the carefully constructed exterior. After all, I'd been playing the part for a very long time.

When Van Linsted caught sight of me, he frowned as if he'd tasted something bad.  "Covington, I see nothing has changed."

I forced my gaze to meet his.  "Arsehole," I said with equal parts of disdain and irreverence. "Still a prick, I see."

Cassandra raised her champagne glass to her mouth, but I could see the corners of her lips twitching as she bit back a laugh. It wasn't like I was lying. Everyone knew he was a dick. Just because his family owned a diamond empire, he thought his shit didn't stink. Well, that was going to change.

He rolled his eyes then drained his glass of champagne. "You really are predictable, Covington."

I whisper—shouted loudly enough for the nearby groups to overhear.  "Ladies, you know that him being a dick does not equate to him having a big dick, right? I know that's confusing."

In my ear, East cursed. "Can you get closer, mate? You're too far away."

One of the redheads in the group gave me an appraising look from top to bottom. Her gaze slid over me as if calculating exactly how much I was worth by what I was wearing. Tom Ford shoes, the slick Armani tuxedo, the classic Tag Heuer, even the Hermes tie all rang up the cash machine in her head. When her gaze met mine, I winked at her. "Care to jump ship, love?"

I inched closer to Van Linsted as I sidled up to her. I thought I might still be too far away, but East's voice reassured me.  "That's it, right there. Don't move. Closer if you can, it's a little slow to download."

I leaned in to whisper, "I'm Ben. You can call me Big Ben if you prefer." She chuckled at that, and I nudged even closer to her.

Van Linsted scowled. "What do you want, Covington?"

"I wanted to say hello. It's been a while. Obviously, things are moving in the right direction for you."

From my peripheral vision, I saw security inching their way through the crowd, trying to be discreet as they sliced through the people like a Damascus steel knife. I was running out of time.

I was going to have to agitate him. East's frustration was clear as he growled, "Mate, closer. Something is wrong."

Bugger.

I needed Van Linsted to initiate prolonged contact. And there was only one way I could think of to do that. "How is it hiding under Mummy's skirts, Bram? Your family did always bail you out of problems. Rumor has it she's going to skip you for inheritance. Is that true?" I turned my attention to the crowd.  "Ladies, did you know that Bram here doesn't control his purse strings? Mummy does. Those diamonds you see draped around her neck are solely controlled by her. You're better off trying your luck with Miles, his younger brother. Bram here has no say in Van Linsted holdings." It was true.

Marcus Van Linsted, Bram's father, might have been the head of the mines on paper, but marrying April had been the infusion of cash, all told in the billions, that the business needed.

All eyes were on me. I spread my arms. "I, on the other hand, am a self—made billionaire with a B." I mock—stumbled forward.  "So that should help in your decision making."

In my ear, East chuckled and egged me on. "That's it. It's working. Also, you're a right git. Thank God you're not on the side of evil."

I was going to have to physically climb the fucker if the download didn't go any faster.

The other women in the group didn't even bother casting Van Linsted a goodbye glance as they stalked over to me. The tallest one with the dark auburn hair grinned.  "My name is Fiona."

"Ah, like the princess. I'm Ben. You can call me Big Ben, though. I don't falsely advertise. Bram here, well, he's known for having a little prick. And, you know, generally being a prick. Just his Mummy's errand boy."

I knew Van Linsted. He didn't get his hands dirty. He didn't know how to fight. Not like I did. I could afford to take a few calculated risks. But security was close.

In my ear, Bridge growled.  "You're going to have to get right up next to him. We still have at least a minute and a half left."

I needed to push him. I stepped closer still. If I could get him to attempt to run at me, that might help.

"How does it feel, Bram? When everybody in your life chooses someone other than you, including your mother?"

The muscle in his jaw ticked.

Come on, you fuck. Get in my face. I needed it to be showy. I needed him to think he had the upper hand.

He did step to me then, a sneer twisting his lips, turning him into a Disney villain in stark contrast to his perfectly ordinary features. His voice was pitched low when he said, "How is your friend, Toby?"

And we had lift—off. In my ear, East said, "Yup, almost there. Thirty seconds."

The good news was my reaction wasn't forced. Everything I felt was real. Every emotion, the anger, the hatred... I just had to play it up, let it loose. Unleash it.

"I will fucking kill you," I ground out.

"Sure you will." And then he started to move away. Fuck. I still needed another few seconds. Running out of options, I charged ahead and rushed him. Security was dangerously close, but I landed a satisfying straight jab to his nose.

Blood splattered everywhere, and then I grabbed him by his very expensive Armani jacket.  "You always thought you were too good for us. You think being a Van Linsted makes you any better than Toby? He was the best of us, and you're envious because you will never be as good as he was."

"If you say so. I beg you to kindly take your hands off me."

And then it was over. Hands grabbed me from behind.  "Sir, you'll have to come with us."

Shit. Another couple of seconds.

God, I hated Bram. At that moment, I could've killed him.

I had no choice. I had to struggle. To my right, my eye caught a shimmer of red, and something made my skin prickle. It took my attention off Bram for a fucking second. A swath of red. A distraction. My attention was divided, and a crack came out of nowhere.

It was the sting I noticed first, then the sound. And then my head jolted to the right. I continued to struggle. I needed my arms to defend myself. Who was I kidding? I needed my arms to kick his arse.

I saw the lady in red, her eyes wide with shock and horror as she rushed forward. Bugger. I didn't need her next to this. She was going to get hurt.

East tweeted in my ear.  "We got it. Get out of there."

The guards were starting to pat me down, restraining my arms. Oh, this was definitely going to hurt.

Angling my body to the right, I rolled my shoulder up and slid my arm out of the grip of one security guard. She was getting so close. Too close. Could I do this?

She ran up to us.  "Stop it. Release him instantly. You're making a scene."

Her gaze met mine. Midnight eyes looked straight into my soul, twisting me up at the most inopportune time. If they patted me down before they handed me to the police, they were going to find the drive.

Performing the drop wasn't going to happen. There was too much attention on me, and I needed to hand it off. Ditch it. Something.

The woman. She was my only hope. They might not look too closely at her purse. The guard grabbed for my arm again, but not before I elbowed him in the gut and lunged for her.

I had no idea who she was, but she'd be on camera, so we'd be able to get facial recognition and find her later.

The guard reached for me again, and I stumbled forward deliberately. She reached out for me as if she'd known the plan the entire time. As if we'd orchestrated this synergistic clusterfuck.

In the scuffle, she almost went down. One of the guards reached for her and tried to help her. I took hold of her purse and slid the device in and then let myself be taken down. "Fuck. All right, all right, all right. I'm going."

She glowered at me.  "He's the prick who broke my pin, but this is overkill."

I prayed to God that no one had noticed the transfer. I'd fucked this up. All of it was completely fucked up. If we lost our chance to dismantle the Elite, there would be no justice for Toby. Not now, not ever.

***

Livy

So much for minding my own business.

I'd gone my whole life following the rules. Playing by them. A year ago, my mother had told me to start living like I was only going to get one take.

Somehow, I didn't think this was what she meant.

Two grown men fighting... at a political fundraiser? Who the hell would do such a thing? It was asinine. I had meant to find the Viking and give him a piece of my mind for breaking my pin.

I'd found him all right. Right in front of me. In an actual fight.

In the span of thirty minutes, I'd broken what was likely a priceless artifact, then hidden in a closet with a man so hot I could still feel his warmth wrapped around me. He'd whispered things to me that I'd only ever imagined someone saying. And then, I'd witnessed that very same man in a fistfight with Bram Van Linsted, firstborn son to one of London's most elite families.

Who the hell was this Viking guy that he didn't fear the wrath of the Van Linsted family? To hear it told, if everything went the right way, Bram would be prime minister in a decade or so. That would be enough time to make his foray into politics.

I shook my head and searched the crowd for Dexter, the only man I should be concerned with. But as usual, he was MIA. He loved a party. Me, not so much.

Did he ditch you?

I swallowed my annoyance. Before leaving our flat, we'd made a deal. He was to lay off the booze and not overindulge.

I couldn't find him, though. The Viking caught my eyes again as security engaged him. Who the hell was he? And what did he have against Bram Van Linsted? More importantly, what the hell had he been doing in the closet?

"I will say, it's never a dull occasion when the Van Linsteds are involved," a voice whispered from behind me.

With a shudder of disgust chasing away my curiosity, I stepped back. "Mr. Mills. Have you seen Dexter? I can't find him anywhere."

He grinned at me broadly and leaned into my personal space. "You are all right, aren't you? Not injured at all? I was worried as I watched you walk into that fray." He reached out an arm to wrap around me, but I ducked just out of reach as I searched the crowd again.

"You know Dexter. Working the crowd. He's really made himself an invaluable asset at the firm."

I gave him a wan smile. Dex loved his job. All he wanted to do was make partner. I'd ruined his first shot, so I had to play nice, no matter how badly Fenton Mills made my skin crawl. "His career is so important to him. And he has my full support."

He stepped closer, not quite touching me but standing so close that the gin and tobacco on his breath were mostly what I smelled. "Not everyone has someone as supportive as you. I know Emily doesn't always understand my drive. My need."

I forced myself to swallow the bile that surged in the back of my throat. The last thing I wanted to hear about was his need. "Well, it's a very demanding career. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to text Dexter and head back into London. I've got a hell of a migraine looming."

His brows furrowed as his gaze searched mine for any hint of falsehood. He wasn't going to find any because I was done. Ready to bolt.

His frown eased, and he nodded. "I'll send you in my car. As a matter of fact, I can join you."

Oh hell no. Not happening. "So kind of you, but what about Emily? I know she said she had to travel in the morning, and she can't very well ride the shuttle if you send the car with me."

His lips pressed together in annoyance. He knew I was right. He couldn't leave his wife behind. "Of course, you're right. Remember, I count you as part of the Mills family and will do anything to look after you."

"Uh, thank you, sir." I eased back, plastering a smile on my face that I hoped seemed genuine but aloof. He gave off strong level—five creeper vibes, and the less time spent in his presence the better.

Thankfully, the security line was almost empty, and I handed my clutch to a guard while I was patted down. The guard was so busy staring at his monitor and talking to someone on his walkie about how cameras in a sector were down that he barely looked at me. "Have a good night, miss."

Once outside, I dragged in all that blessed fresh air, crisp and clear, and I felt like I could finally breathe for the first time all night. The estate was located in the village of Virginia Water, close to the city, and it sat on an acreage of sparkling green. Automatically I glanced around, hoping I'd catch a glimpse of the Viking, but he was already gone. And you were going to, what? Interrogate him about what he was doing with you in the closet? Get real.

I didn't know him. He didn't owe me anything. Except a new pin. And I had a boyfriend. One who abandoned you at the party, knowing full well crowds make you crazy.

I squashed the voice of discontent. It wasn't useful right now. My social anxiety had gotten worse since Mom's passing. Well, really since the car accident. I knew how to manage on my own. Depending on anyone was a recipe for disaster.

I snapped open my purse to find my shuttle ticket and pulled out the stiff cardstock. I frowned when I noticed what looked like a black tube of lipstick in the bottom of my clutch. My lipstick was in a silver tube.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention, and I glanced around. I'd made it through the security check point with no problems. But something made me wary.

I was a firm believer in our evolutionary cues that warned us of danger. Maybe some of that came from micro expressions, maybe a change in the air, but something told me to wait until I was on the shuttle back to London to investigate.

My feet dragged as I boarded the black limousine party bus with three other people. I chose a position close to the back where it was dark. The whole time I could feel the lipstick tube burning a hole in my purse. How had it gotten there?

Once the bus had been moving for ten minutes, I pulled out the black tube and examined it. It was only then that I realized it wasn't lipstick. I tugged on it and it separated into two parts. It was a flash drive. What. The actual. Fuck?

Think, Livy. Slow it down. That was a game my mother had played with me as a kid when I would get so worked up about a social situation that I couldn't function. It always worked. Once I got over my initial fear, I could always think more clearly.

One deep breath. The lingering scent of various perfumes clung to the air. Another deep breath. The chill had me pulling my shawl tighter around myself. A final breath. My mind played back the end of the party, those last moments when I'd tried to play hero.

The Viking.

He'd done this. He'd made me his accomplice. But to what?