Page 56 of Final Sins

Suddenly, the shrill wail of the fire alarm pierced the air.

The reaction was immediate and chaotic. Champagne flutes shattered on the marble floor as startled guests jumped. The string quartet’s melody devolved into a cacophony of screeching strings. Then silence. Women in designer gowns clutched at their Tiffany necklaces, while men in bespoke suits looked around in bewilderment.

“What is going on?” a portly gentleman sputtered.

A botoxed woman glared at their target. “Is this one of Winnie’s idiotic pranks?”

“We should leave,” Kate shouted, grabbing onto Winthrop’s arm, her voice shrill.

The crowd surged towards the exits, a sea of silk and taffeta churning in panic.

Paige started the countdown. “Lights out in three ... two ... one ...”

Darkness engulfed the room. Screams of alarm rose above the din of the fire alarm.

“Move, now!” Jason’s voice was low and urgent in her ear.

Alex’s heart pounded as they pushed through the crowd towards Winthrop’s last known position. Her fingers brushed against Jason’s arm, an anchor in the chaos.

“Ten seconds,” Paige reminded them.

Alex’s eyes, adjusting to the darkness, caught a glimpse of Winthrop’s portly silhouette. No agents surrounded him. So far.

She and Jason converged on their target, ready to snatch him.

Her fingers closed around Winthrop’s arm, her grip firm as Jason moved to flank him. The plan was working perfectly—until it wasn’t.

An ear-destroying bang echoed through the darkened room, followed by a blinding flash. Alex ducked, pressing her palms to her ears. She couldn’t hear. Couldn’t see.

A flashbang grenade.

That wasn’t part of the plan. Seven-Five was here, too.

The lights flickered back on, revealing a scene of utter pandemonium. Guests stumbled about in confusion, temporarily deaf, blind and off-balance from the sheer power of the sound wave.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to fight the white flash burned into her retinas. The flash slowly faded, leaving her with limited peripheral vision.

An elderly woman sprawled on the floor halfway across the ballroom halfway between Alex and Winthrop, her pearl necklace scattered across the marble. In the confusion, someone had knocked her down.

The woman reached out a frail arm. “Help.”

Though Alex couldn’t hear beyond the painful ringing in her ears, the woman’s intent was clear.

She started toward the woman. She couldn’t leave an innocent person injured. But as she moved, a burly man in a too-tight tuxedo blocked her path. His eyes were cold. Predatory.

He stared her down and shook his head. No one was getting between him and Winthrop.

Out of the corner of her eye, Alex saw Winthrop being hustled away by two more men. Their carefully laid plan was unraveling.

“Jason!” she called out, ducking as the burly man lunged for her.

A blur of motion, and suddenly Jason was there, his fist connecting with the man’s jaw. “Go!” he shouted loud enough for her to hear over the ringing. “Help her. I’ve got this.”

Alex didn’t hesitate. She rushed to the fallen woman’s side, her mind racing. How had Seven-Five known? Who had tipped them off?

As she helped the elderly woman to her feet, supporting her weight, Alex’s eyes locked with Jason’s across the room. In that moment, she knew—their mission had failed.

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