Page 24 of Beckoning Liam

They drifted through the human current, slipping past families and businessmen, until a nondescript figure bumped against Liam's broad shoulder. A subtle exchange, an envelopestealthily pressed into his hand—barely noticeable to anyone not looking for it.

"Merci," Liam said with a curt nod, recognizing the sharp gaze of Inspector Dubois beneath the brim of a hat pulled low and the scarf obscuring half her face. She blended into the scenery with the ease of a chameleon, her presence there both a comfort and a warning of the stakes at play.

"Let's move," he instructed Becks, steering her toward the exit with a gentle hand at the small of her back. Once outside, they found a quiet corner where Liam inspected the contents of the envelope. Inside, a set of keys glinted dully alongside a slip of paper bearing only an address and a parking lot location.

"Looks like we have our next destination," Becks said, the soft lilt of her upper British accent somehow made more pronounced by the tension that enveloped them.

"Stay close to me," Liam said, his voice laced with protective fervor. He felt an electric charge between them, a connection that was as much about the mission as it was about the unspoken dynamic of their relationship—one where he was the Dom and she, his willing submissive.

"Always," she replied, her trust in him palpable.

They approached the parking lot with caution, senses heightened to the potential dangers that lurked in the shadows. The sound of Becks' footsteps on the concrete punctuated the silence, a counterpoint to the thrumming pulse that raced through Liam's veins.

He unlocked the nondescript sedan that matched the description provided, scanning the area for any sign of a trap. But there was only the hum of the city and the distant murmur of voices, nothing immediate or threatening. For now, at least.

"Get in. I'll drive," Liam ordered, ushering Becks into the passenger seat before circling around to slide behind the wheel. As he ignited the engine, he glanced at her—a brilliant mindwrapped in poise and grit—and felt a surge of arousal, mingled with the fierce need to protect her.

"Where to?" Becks asked, her tone steady.

"Knowing Sophie, she put it in the GPS,” Liam said as he engaged the nav system, shifted gears and pulled out of the lot. "It’s almost over, Becks. Just hang in there a little bit longer and we’ll get to that collaring ceremony."

And with those words, hanging between them, charged with intent, they drove off into the encroaching dusk, ready to confront whatever lay ahead.

Liam's fingers drummed a staccato rhythm on the weathered wood of the safe house's scarred table, his gaze flickering between Becks and Dubois. They were huddled over an array of screens, maps, and cryptic notes that painted a picture only the two of them could decipher. There was an air of anticipation, every molecule saturated with urgency.

"Bastards. Interpol's dragging their heels," Dubois muttered, frustration lacing her normally unflappable tone. "We need them to move now."

"Jurisdictions be damned," Liam said, his voice low, a growl of impatience.

"Perhaps a more... persuasive argument would hasten their cooperation?" Becks suggested, her eyes alight with the thrill of the chase.

"Exactly what I had in mind, love," he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting in a dangerous smile.

Just then, the crackle of a secure line cut through the tension. Fitzwallace's stern visage appeared on the screen, his silver-streaked hair like slashes of wisdom against the dark backdrop of Cerberus' command center.

"O'Shea, status report," he demanded, authority resonating in every syllable.

"We're close, sir—closer than ever. But we've hit a snag with Interpol and the French police. Too many chiefs, not enough worker bees." Liam's patience was wearing thin, the bureaucratic red tape binding his hands when he needed them free.

"Understood," Fitzwallace acknowledged, his jaw set like stone. "But that's not why I'm calling. I don’t like you two being exposed. Bring Dr. Ashworth back to London. I want the two of you back here where we control the playing field."

"I don’t know that that’s wise, Fitz. I believe MI6 is compromised. With all due respect," Liam said, steel in his voice, "Becks is not leaving my side. She's cracked the code—the message points to a threat against the EU's stability. We pull out now, we could lose everything."

Fitzwallace's eyes narrowed, assessing, calculating. "Are you certain, O'Shea? This isn't some game or one of your... unconventional liaisons. This is about more than just the two of you."

"Nothing is certain in this bloody business." Liam's response was terse, a reflection of the storm brewing within him. "But I trust Becks. And I'll be damned if I let her out of my sight when she's the key to ending this."

"Very well," Fitzwallace conceded after a tense pause. "But remember, Cerberus is here if you need us. And while you’re there in Lyon, try and convince Sophie she’d have a much better time working for us, and I pay one hell of a lot better."

Liam laughed. "Understood, sir, and I’ll do my best." Liam cut the connection before turning back to Becks, the impassivemask slipping to reveal a raw edge of concern. "I think it's time to tighten the leash on our enemies."

"Let's show them how dangerous we can be," Becks replied, her voice seductive, belying the steely resolve in her eyes.

"Indeed." Liam's hand reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers in an unspoken vow. "Together, we'll bring this whole bloody conspiracy to its knees."

As the night deepened around them, shrouding the city of Lyon in shadows, the danger they faced seemed to only fuel the fire that burned between them. They were partners in every sense, bound by desire and duty, ready to face whatever twisted fate lay ahead.

“Sophie and I decided to call it a day. Our eyes are starting to cross,” Becks said as she entered their room, stripping off her clothes.

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