Chapter 37

37

As their car inched closer to the Dorchester Hotel, Abe slid his hand into Freya’s. He laced his fingers through hers. The connection calmed him. No matter what lay ahead, they faced it together.

He wanted her to know that. Especially now.

If Raptor’s latest tactic was digging up dirt on Freya to discredit her, maybe they were running out of moves. Perhaps the tide was turning.

The Dorchester blazed with golden light, casting a warm glow over Park Lane. A long queue of luxury cars snaked toward the entrance, depositing London’s elite for the evening’s exclusive auction. The iconic facade shimmered beneath the night sky, its art déco grandeur amplified by polished brass railings and gleaming glass doors.

“Here we are, sir.” The driver’s voice pulled Abe from his thoughts.

The Jaguar halted at the foot of the Dorchester’s grand steps. A rich, crimson carpet stretched up to the polished entrance, with a pair of matching doormen.

This was another world.

He tugged at his collar. He wasn’t a tie man, and the tie seemed to know that, making it its life mission to choke him out before the night was over.

Freya gathered her purse, but Abe stilled her with a hand on her knee. The fabric of her gown felt cool and smooth beneath his fingers. “Tonight, after this is over, after we’ve secured your laptop or destroyed the damn thing, I’m going to strip this dress from you, inch by tempting inch.”

Her mouth fell open, soundless.

Damn. He liked that.

He gave her a sideways smile. “But not yet. There’s work to be done.”

“Yes.” Her voice was breathy.

“Let’s review. As guests of the duke and his fiancée, I’m the wealthy tech entrepreneur, and you?—”

“I’m your eye candy date.”

His lips curved. “Still can’t believe you agreed to that.”

“You are a very persuasive man.” She leaned close, palm grazing his cheek. Her perfume—floral, with a hint of spice—filled his senses as she brushed her lips against his in a featherlight kiss. The featherlight touch sent heat surging through his body.

Focus.

“We have comms for the entire team. Yours are in your earrings.” He touched her earlobe lightly, switching the unit on. “Comms check.”

One by one, everyone confirmed their comms.

“Fox appreciates the gifts to make a woman’s heart race. I hear you.” Freya grinned. “Comms in my ear too.”

“The auction’s under the radar. No one’s admitting what’s happening here. We’ll circulate, get the lay of the land before the auction starts at nine.”

He glanced at his watch—just under an hour until showtime.

“Eli will hack the hotel’s comm systems. Once we pinpoint the laptop’s location, he’ll cut the security feeds. That’s our window. We get in, retrieve the archive, and get out clean.”

“And worst-case scenario?” Freya asked.

Abe’s jaw tightened. “Worst case? We shut it down here now and deal with the fallout.”

“That’s not the preferred plan.” Now that they were within receiving distance, Kat’s voice was crystal clear on the shared comms.

“Noted, Landon.” Abe kept his tone even. Kat likely had a contingency plan in her back pocket.

“Once we’ve got the laptop—or if things go sideways—we stick to the extraction plan. No improvising unless we have to.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “My job is to keep you safe, and that means you do what I tell you when I tell you. No exceptions. Do you understand?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

He blew out a breath. “Okay, let’s get this party started.”

Abe stepped out into the crisp night air, buttoning his tuxedo jacket. The buzz of voices and laughter drowned out the faint hum of city life in the distance.

His tie had relented, and for now he could breathe. He opened the door for Freya. She accepted his hand, slipping out of the car with the poise of someone born to walk the red carpets of London’s finest hotels. Together, they climbed the steps, arm in arm.

The Dorchester’s interior was every bit as luxurious as its reputation promised—rich wood paneling, gold accents, and crystal chandeliers that sparkled overhead.

Abe took it all in. Korolov spared no expense.

The reception area was now an exotic carnival, teeming with performers. Abe weaved between juggling clowns and contortionists while, above their heads, trapeze artists spun on glittering ropes.

Freya leaned into him, playing the wealthy man’s date flawlessly. His hand settled on her hip—he wanted her to feel his touch—protective and possessive. He tracked the appreciative glances from other men. She was radiant, drawing every eye in the room. This was Freya unleashed—brilliant and devastating.

Twenty feet ahead, Fox and Abbie chatted to a couple. An elderly man and his trophy wife, maybe fifty years his junior.

Kat passed him in an oyster pink sheath that would give Leo’s heart a run for its money. She’d positioned six MI6 agents throughout the space—Abe had already spotted four. Leo and Zak were ghosts, as expected. If they were doing their jobs right, no one would see them until it was too late.

“We’ve got a problem.” Kat’s voice cut through the comms, her slim figure already swallowed by the crowd. “Korolov’s men are running facial recognition at the ballroom entrances. They’re looking for Freya.”

Abe came to an abrupt halt, his muscles locking. A wealthy couple swept past in a cloud of competing perfume and cologne, their jewelry catching the light like warning signals. His protective hold on Freya tightened.

“We have to find another way.” He lowered his mouth to Freya’s ear, his voice a murmur just audible over the tinkling of champagne glasses and false laughter. “We didn’t come here to serve you up on a silver platter to that bastard.”

“We can use this to our advantage.” Freya’s eyes flashed with stubborn determination.

“Exactly how?” The words came out harsher than intended, anxiety crawling up his spine.

“Korolov won’t stop.” Her voice was level, but there was a tremor in her hands. “He’s going to keep coming for me, Abe. By approaching him, I can buy time for your team to find the laptop.”

Leo’s voice intruded on the comms. “She has a point, Abe?—”

“No.” The word erupted from somewhere deep in his chest. This went against every protective instinct.

Freya’s chin jutted, set in the angle that showed her mind was made up.

Fuck.

“This is hard, Abe. But we need to make the best of it. We have to end it and better if it’s on our own terms.”

He shook his head. “Not here.”

He gripped her elbow, guiding her through the revolving doors and back out into the night air. The crimson canopy above them caught the golden glow of the hotel’s exterior lights, creating a false sense of warmth in the chill evening.

He spun her to face him. Her dress caught the light, transforming her into something ethereal and vulnerable.

Mine to protect.

“What you’re suggesting is too dangerous.” Despite his best efforts, his voice roughened with emotion. “These people aren’t playing for fun. They’re playing for keeps.” His throat constricted as images of worst-case scenarios flashed through his mind—scenarios he’d seen play out too many times before. “You could get hurt. Or worse.”

“Abe.” Her voice softened, but that diamond core remained. This was what he loved about her, but also what made her so damn hard to protect. “I didn’t come this far to turn and walk away.”

“This wasn’t the agreed plan.” He focused on the familiar territory of tactical planning. “The plan was to go in, identify the most likely location of the laptop. Extract the laptop. In and out.”

The determination in her eyes didn’t waver. If anything, it burned brighter. “Eventually, they’re going to find me. I can’t hide for the rest of my life.”

She was right, and he hated it.

“We’ll find it before?—”

“When, Abe? When?” It had started to drizzle, fine droplets catching on her lashes and dotting the delicate hairs on her cheeks. Crystals of water glistened in her hair, transforming her into something otherworldly. It was hard to breathe—he’d never seen anything more beautiful.

Or more goddamn stubborn.

“They’re going to find me. I’d rather it be on my terms.” Her voice carried an edge of mental toughness. “They need me to open the laptop. They’ll take me to it. We don’t need to locate it—I’ll find it for us.”

Abe folded his arms across his chest, trying to contain the churning in his gut. The elation he’d felt watching her descend the stairs earlier had evaporated, leaving behind a queasy emptiness he recognized from his past. His brothers falling as they walked right into the ambush Mariam had put into play with her lies.

But Freya had decided—now it was damage control.

“What are you thinking?” The words were ash in his mouth.

“I’ll approach Korolov, tell him the facial recognition is only part of the unlock sequence. That there’s a timed component.”

“Why would he believe that?”

“People believe what they want to see, Abe.” Her eyes locked with his. “We just need to show him what he expects to find.” Fierce intelligence flared in her gaze. “And here, in public, we control the situation—better than being ambushed on his terms.”

“Abe. She has a point?—”

“Shut the fuck up, Zak.”

“Zak is right. It could buy us time to implement the kill switch.” Leo’s voice was maddeningly reasonable.

“Exactly.” Freya seized on the support, her shoulders squaring. “And if I’m the one to make contact, I’ll be able to control the situation better than if his men corner me. This way we’re calling the shots. Not him.”

Abe shook his head as memories of the Afghan ambush shuttered through his mind in a brutal slideshow. “I like nothing about this. Korolov isn’t some local player—he’s a tier-one arms dealer with kill teams operating across three continents. Once you’re in his kill zone, if he makes you as a threat?—”

“He won’t find out.” The determination glittering in her eyes matched the day they’d first met, when she’d dismissed him as just another grunt who’d get in her way. A lifetime ago.

“I’m already in his sights, Abe.” Her voice softened, but her resolve remained. “This way, we stay ahead. It’s our best opportunity. If he sells the archive, his men will still search for me.” She stepped closer, the scent of her perfume mixing with the rain-fresh air. “This is our chance to stop it now, to cut off the head of the dragon before it can strike again.”

Her words hit hard.

Dragons didn’t die easily, and they had a habit of burning everything in their path before they fell.