Chapter 3

Beatrice’s POV

Hot pink isn’t really my go-to color, but it surprisingly complements the darker tones I got from my dad. Sierra was adamant about picking out my dress for this event. Getting her to join me wasn’t the hard part; it was more about steering her away from some of the outrageous outfit ideas she had in mind for me.

“So, Native Barbie, are you enjoying the show?” Sierra asks, her champagne flute held delicately in her perfectly manicured hands.

I shoot her a sideways look while taking a sip from my own drink. “Only you could pull that off.”

I’ve got a bit of that lily-white vibe from my mom, too. People who try to label me often find it tricky because I don’t fit neatly into any box. My gaze wanders around the grand ballroom, landing on the stunning crystal chandelier that brightens our corner. I let my fingers brush against the gun strapped to my thigh.

This event was supposed to be low-key, but it’s ballooned into something much larger since my meeting with James. Dressed-up men and women are mingling around us, their voices rising above the music before they drift away.

“Did you go write your soul-cleansing check yet?”

Sierra chuckles. “And only you could get away with that.” Her amber eyes soften as she looks at me. “How’s your dad doing?”

Still gone.

“Same as usual.” I shrug slightly. “The anniversary of Claude’s death is tough.” Not entirely untrue. The feelings are real, but the specifics of his death change with each job. The date, location, and method are all just stories I tell.

“Well, I hope you and your dad can sort things out one day. Family matters.”

Family. That word bounces around in my head, stirring up memories I’d rather keep hidden.

Sierra waves over a waiter to take her empty glass and grabs another drink. She gestures for me to join her, but I just shake my head. “First, you insisted on a dress that lets you move, and now you won’t share a drink with me. Seriously, it’s like you think there’s a killer lurking behind every corner.”

I chuckle along with her, even though it’s not entirely out of the question. “You appreciate my caution.”

Sierra lets out a sigh. “I can’t deny that.” She tucks a strand of her blonde hair back into her intricate braid. “I’m starting to think Nolan isn’t showing up. I should’ve just called him to set something up. You were right about the territory being ripe for deals if those two go off.”

“Is it smart to choose a side?”

“Hmm. My side is probably pretty clear. At least this way, it might look like a total coincidence. The charities we support are here, and we just happened to bump into each other.”

I’m about to ask Sierra why her side is so obvious when I spot a light brownish-blonde head entering through the ballroom doors. He’s wearing a dark blue suit and a pink tie, not a tux like most of the other guys. Two men stand beside him, just as tall and broad, but their suits don’t scream wealth. I nod in his direction. “Who’s that?”

Sierra glances back and a smile spread across her face. “Speaking of the devil.”

“Nolan?” It’s him. James had shown me pictures, but they didn’t do him justice. In person, he’s the kind of dangerously rugged handsome that makes people look his way without even realizing it.

“In the flesh,” she says, almost as if she can read my thoughts.

Have you ever had one of those moments? I shift my gaze to Sierra. She’s fifteen years my senior, which puts her a decade ahead of Nolan. Time has treated her well, but I suspect that’s thanks to her dermatologist and cosmetic surgeon on speed dial.

Sierra shakes her head, but her eyes are glued to Nolan. “In this line of work, you’ve got to watch who you get involved with—keep that in mind, Tris. A man can be dangerous.”

“Not all men are like that.” My thoughts drift to James.

Sierra gives me a look before nodding toward the bar. “Looks like Nolan got sidetracked by one of the event organizers before he could grab a drink. I know his go-to order.”

She calls for three whiskeys and struts over to where he’s chatting with a petite blonde who seems either nervous or smitten. It could go either way. In person, Nolan is even more imposing. It’s like there’s a neon sign above him flashing “Danger.” The tension in the air wraps around him, and us too.

“Nolan,” Sierra drawls, letting her Southern charm shine through. She moves with a confidence that says she’s not to be underestimated. In this industry, if you come off too feminine, people won’t take you seriously.

His head snaps up at the sound of her voice, and a huge grin breaks out on his face. He steps around the eager blonde to pull Sierra into a hug. “Didn’t expect to see you here. It’s been forever.”

A charming coincidence, indeed. She shifts her gaze to the other woman before turning back to Nolan. With a respectful nod to Sierra, the event organizer strolls away, hands together.

While he chats with Sierra, I take a moment to observe him: the goatee, the little dimple that appears when he almost smiles, and his hazel eyes sparkling with unexpected amusement.

“Who’s this lovely ray of sunshine behind you?” He gestures toward me, studying my face without letting his eyes wander down my body.

“This is Tris.” Sierra spreads her arms wide. “She’s the absolute best at what she does.”

Honestly, I couldn’t ask for a better introduction. I can’t help but smile genuinely as she wraps an arm around my waist like a protective big sister.

“What’s that?” His voice has a hint of an accent that’s definitely not from Sicily. I remember from his file that his parents sent him and his brother to boarding school in Italy.

“Everything.” Sierra beams at me.

“That’s quite the compliment.” Nolan raises his drink slightly in my direction. “What do you think about that?”

“It’s not really an exaggeration.”

He laughs, his eyes scanning my face as if he’s trying to figure me out. My hot-pink dress seems to be going unnoticed by him. Should I feel flattered or slighted?

“You got any friends? I’m on the lookout for someone like you.”

Sierra tightens her hold on me and takes a sip of her whiskey. “She’s taken. Keep your hands to yourself.”

He lifts his glass, giving me a look from above. “I’m not into people who can be bought, Sierra. You know that.”

She rolls her eyes. “That’s not true, Nolan. I know you. I’ve messed this up. I should’ve mentioned she was considering leaving my team.”

“I’m really not happy.” I lock eyes with Nolan and flash a playful grin.

He responds with a grin of his own. “Oh really? Sierra, you better treat your everything woman right before someone else comes along and snatches her up.”

“Just as long as you’re not that someone, Nolan.” She turns to me. “I appreciate the concern, but once he’s on the prowl, there’s no stopping him.”

“You make me sound awful.” He chuckles.

“I used to think you were cool,” Sierra says. “Flint, though…”

“… is definitely an acquired taste.” Nolan’s smile dims. “One I’ve recently lost my appetite for.”

She looks at me, then back at Nolan. I can tell she’s weighing her options.

“Sorry to hear that,” I say, feeling the sudden tension in the air.

His lips curl slightly. “You wouldn’t feel sorry if you really knew him.” He finishes his whiskey. “It’s been nice, ladies. Thanks for the drink. You really know me, Sierra.” With a nod to his crew, Nolan slips into the crowd, leaving Sierra and me to wrap up our drinks.

“Crap.” She sighs and taps her glass with her nail. “I shouldn’t have brought Flint into this.”

“You can’t ask him about a deal without letting him know there’s a deal on the table.”

Their group is buying weapons, just not from me. Sierra tightens her lips. “It should be me. This is the perfect moment to get in there. Maybe we can still turn things around later.”

“Are you going to do that or…”

“If you get a chance to ask, go for it. Plant a seed and see if it takes root.”

Nolan glides through the crowd, flanked by his two hefty security guards. He’s a minor player in the arms game. Sierra handles much larger, more ethically sound deals than this. She hasn’t let me in on those yet.

If I manage to get what I want tonight, I won’t see them again. I need to act quickly to grab his attention. His late arrival means we’ve got two hours left in this event, and he’s already cut our chat short.

“I’ll do my best.”

“You’re not easily swayed,” Sierra stretches the words, and I can tell she’s keeping an eye on Nolan too.

I grin and raise my eyebrows. “Is there a catch?”

A smile tugs at her lips. “No, I guess there isn’t.”

“You’ve got nothing to stress about,” I assure her. “If I can get him to think about a deal, I will. And if not, it’s still been a nice evening. We haven’t hit up an event like this in ages.” I finish my whiskey and gesture for another. “How about it?”

“No, I’ve got people I need to meet. Tonight is turning out to be bigger than I thought.”

“I’ll be at the bar.”

Sierra and I go our separate ways as she sets off to network and strengthen her connections. I slide over to the bar and set my empty glass aside. This part of the bar is meant for standing, but further down, there are several stools occupied by people chatting away.

The ballroom is spacious and airy, but the mix of perfumes and colognes in the air could trigger an asthma attack. Above the bar, the pendulum lights hang low, matching the overall dim ambiance. Most of the charity events I’ve attended with Sierra have had a similar low light vibe. It probably feels too forward to ask for donations when the lights are blaring.

I’m waiting for the bartender, trying to figure out how to join the conversation with Nolan when someone brushes against my shoulder.

“It’d be a shame for someone as skilled as you to be unhappy with your job,” a deep voice whispers in my ear. His charming accent is something I could easily get used to, reminding me of the hours my dad spent enjoying anything Irish.

He’s so close that Nolan’s hazel eyes seem to pierce right through me. The musky scent of his cologne envelops me, and I’m grateful for my training. Stay cool. Stay composed. “How do you know I’m skilled?”

“Sierra doesn’t hype up people who don’t earn it.” He turns to catch the bartender’s attention with a wave. “Two whiskeys.”

In this line of work, guys are everywhere. But there’s something about the way his shoulders curve and the angle of his jaw beneath that goatee that feels oddly familiar. His charm isn’t just about looks; it’s all in how he carries himself. Confidence radiates from him, spilling over everything he comes into contact with.

The bartender slides two glasses our way, and I pick mine up delicately, swirling it around and letting the ice clink against the glass.

He leans back against the bar railing, elbows resting on the wood, gazing out at the spacious room. When he turns to me, our eyes lock over the edge of his glass. “When are you heading back?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. Sierra is going to show me some sights in Sicily.”

A smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth, like he’s trying to hold back a laugh. “Sounds exciting.”

“Does it?” I avoid his gaze, keeping my back to the crowd.

“Not quite as exciting as coming over to mine for a chat.”

“And what would we chat about?” I glance into my glass, a flicker of hope sparking inside me.

“Seeing if one of us can make the other an offer they can’t turn down.”

“I get offers all the time, and I turn them all down.” I find our little back-and-forth entertaining, but I keep my expression neutral.

“You’ve never had one from me.”

Somehow, I’ve polished off another drink. “I guess we’ll see what you’ve got. I’m not easy to persuade.”

He sets his empty glass down on the bar. “I’m counting on that. Tell Sierra to give me a ring.”

When I look back, he and his crew have vanished.