Page 35 of Knot a Thief

“Okay,” I say finally. “Let’s make our way back to the mainland and start planning our approach. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

Ava nods, already lost in thought.

After a few hours of agreeing on our plan, Ava lifts her arms in the air before diving off the boat for an evening swim. The fading sunlight catches her lithe form as she arcs gracefully into the water, barely making a splash.

I lean against the railing, watching her powerful strokes as she cuts through the waves.

She flips onto her back, floating effortlessly. Her laughter carries to me on the warm breeze, and it’s moments like these that remind me why I fell for her.

Fearless, beautiful, and utterly free-spirited.

She’ll need to be. We have the heist of a lifetime awaiting us, and I can only hope we’re ready for whatever lies ahead.

I’ll keep her safe, no matter what it takes.

“Come in!” she yells as she swims back to the boat, her wet skin glistening in the twilight. “The temperature is perfect.”

“I’d prefer to come in you,” I say as she grabs the ladder, pulling herself up with practiced ease.

“You are a dirty beta.” Water cascades off her body as she climbs aboard. I hold out my hand, which she takes. “You’re also the one who is adamant we have to go over tomorrow’s schedule again.”

I groan. “I know, and I want to make a call about the island owners.”

She takes the towel. “Thanks,” she says, flashing me a smile that makes my heart skip. “The Dupont’s have owned the island for centuries, haven’t they?”

“That’s not as clear as we first thought.”

Ava raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push. She knows I have my sources, just as she has hers.

As she heads below deck to change, I pull out my secure phone and dial a number I know by heart.

It rings once, twice, three times. My unease grows with each unanswered ring. Finally, the voicemail picks up. “Leave a message,” a gruff voice instructs.

“It’s me,” I mumble. “I need more intel on the Dupont estate. Something doesn’t feel right. Call me back ASAP.”

I end the call, staring out at the darkening horizon.

The island looms less than two nautical miles in the distance, a black silhouette against the purple and red sunset sky.

As I turn to head below deck, a flicker of light catches my eye. I squint, trying to make out its source. I grab my binoculars and peer through.

On the clifftop, a flash of red is trained ahead, directly on our boat.

My blood runs cold.

“Ava!” I shout. “Come here!”

Ava’s footsteps pad on the stairs as she quickly ascends, responding to the urgency in my voice. She’s still damp from her swim, hair slicked back, concern etched on her face.

“What is it?” she asks, joining me at the railing.

Without a word, I hand her the binoculars, pointing towards the cliff. She raises them to her eyes, adjusting the focus.

“Shit,” she breathes after a moment. “Is that what I think it is?”

I nod grimly. “Looks like a laser targeting system. High-end, military-grade stuff. Not your average rich person’s security.”

Ava lowers the binoculars, her expression thoughtful.

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