Undercover Hate

Chapter Twenty-Four: Pain Shared is Pain Halved-Or Doubled

I take a deep breath as I step closer to the painting, feeling the energy of the room shift around me. The young man I noticed earlier catches my eye. He's a bit younger than the others, dressed in an expensive suit, his hair slicked back with precision. He's standing just to the left of the painting, looking relaxed, but there's a sharpness in his gaze that tells me he's important—maybe not the leader, but definitely in on whatever's going down here.

I can feel the nerves dancing in my stomach, but I swallow them down. I force a small smile and make my way over, moving slowly and purposefully. "Bonsoir," I say, my voice soft and just a bit flirty.

The man looks at me, his eyebrows rising slightly. "Bonsoir, mademoiselle," he replies, his eyes giving me a once-over. "You're not from around here, are you?"

I shake my head, letting my hair fall over my shoulder. "No, I'm visiting. But I saw you over here and..." I trail off, giving him a playful look. "I figured I had to come say hi."

He chuckles, clearly amused. "Well, I'm glad you did." He steps closer, his eyes fixed on mine. "I don't usually see women like you at these... events."

"Oh?" I ask, trying to keep my tone light, though my heart is pounding in my chest. "And what kind of women do you usually see?"

He smiles, leaning in slightly. "The kind that aren't quite as... charming as you are."

I force a giggle, feeling my palms begin to sweat. "Well, I guess I'm just full of surprises."

His smile widens. "I like surprises," he says, and I resist the urge to shudder.

He gestures toward a door to the side of the gallery, a door I hadn't noticed before. "Why don't we get out of here for a moment? Talk somewhere more private?"

I can feel my throat tightening, and every instinct in me is screaming to run. But I nod, smiling up at him. "Lead the way," I say.

The room he leads me into is small, the walls lined with old bookshelves. It's quiet in here, and I can feel my pulse thudding in my ears. He shuts the door behind us, and I have to fight the urge to run.

The man moves closer, and I can feel my heart racing. He's too close, his cologne overwhelming, and I know I need to act. Now.

Just as he takes off his jacket, his guard completely down, I spring into action. I grab his arm and twist it behind him, shoving him hard against the bookshelf. He lets out a grunt of surprise, and I yank a pair of zip ties from my purse, securing his wrists before he can even react.

"What the hell?" he hisses, struggling against the bonds.

I ignore him, reaching for the dagger I have hidden under my dress. I press the blade to his throat, my face close to his as I speak. "I'm going to ask you some questions, and you're going to answer them. Understand?"

His eyes widen, and he nods.

"Good." I lean in, my voice low. "What's your plan here tonight? What are you all planning to do?"

He hesitates for a second, but when I press the dagger harder, he begins to speak, the words spilling out in a rush. "It's—It's just a distraction. There's a shipment of art coming in tonight, and we need to make sure no one notices. The explosions are a cover, that's all."

I narrow my eyes. "Where's the shipment?"

"The tunnels," he says, his voice trembling. "I swear, that's all I know."

I nod, pulling a small bottle of chloroform from my bag. "Good. Thanks for your help," I say, then spray him with the pepper spray for good measure before covering his nose and mouth with the cloth. He struggles for a moment before his eyes roll back, and he slumps against the bookshelf, unconscious.