Page 66 of Sinful Submission

“First round delivered,” Gina murmured. “And I got a four-hundred-dollar tip, heffa. These niggas are loaded.”

I laughed. “I told you so.”

“Yes, the fuck you did.”

“The orders are coming fast. I just finished my second one.”

Our targets drained their glasses, signaling for more. By the third round, we’d crossed over into an hour of service andthe processor’s laugh was too loud, while the transfer team’s movements grew unsteady.

“They’re hitting their limit,” Storm warned. “Time to wrap it up.”

“One more round,” I said, watching them sway slightly. “Meet me at the bar, Gina.”

The bartender topped our trays with their drinks, and Gina was too busy fast-talking and flirting with the guy next to her to notice me pouring the poison into the glasses. It was the perfect setup.

The poison was odorless and tasteless. Mixed with alcohol, it was untraceable.

The final drinks went out as the club reached peak capacity. The bass covered any sounds of distress as the first target - one of the transfer team - clutched his chest.

“The exit routes are clear,” Cruz confirmed.

“Gina, we’re cutting our time tonight and I’ve already got our money - let’s go.”

Gina and I slipped away as our victims began to fall. By the time anyone realized something was wrong, we were walking toward the extraction point, and the server uniforms they’d supplied us with inside were abandoned in the staff room.

Gina hopped in Cruz’s Hellcat and Titan waited at the corner with his bike purring in the shadows. I slid behind him, pressing close as my arms wrapped around his waist. His scent aroused me, and the danger of the night soaked my pussy.

“You’re such a bad fuckin’ girl,” he growled as I squeezed my thighs against him.

“Wait until you see what else I can do.”

We rodethrough Miami’s neon-lit streets, leaving disarray in our wake. By morning, Ronan’s money operation would becrippled. His key players would be dead, and their systems exposed with the first center dismantled.

Back at The Omega House,we went over the next mission.

“Their ventilation system has three main access points,” Storm said, marking locations on the warehouse schematic. “Here, here, and here. The atomized compound must hit all three to fully contaminate their storage areas.”

I studied the layout spread across the desk. The east side warehouse looked simple from the outside, like just another industrial building. But inside, it housed Ronan’s high-end drug operation.

“The processing equipment is on the second floor,” Cruz added. “That’s where we introduce the blue agent. Everything they try to process becomes visible once it gets into their machinery. There’s no way to hide it.”

“What about security?” I asked.

“It’ll be heavy at the entrance points.” Titan’s finger traced the perimeter. “But they’re focused on protecting products from theft. They don’t expect chemical warfare.”

“What’s our timeline?”

“We have three hours until shift change. That’s our window.” Storm held up three metal canisters. “The atomized compound goes in through the ventilation. It takes thirty minutes to fully permeate. By the time anyone notices the smell, it’ll be too late.”

Cruz lifted a vial of electric blue liquid. “This goes into their processing tanks. The reaction is instant – it turns everything it touches into something that looks like cheap street shit.”

I examined the third substance, a fine powder, in a sealed container. “Is this to contaminate the equipment?”

“That’s the endgame.” There was satisfaction in Cruz’s tone. “It gets into the machinery’s gears and spreads through the whole system. They’ll have to replace everything.”

I nodded, mentally drawing the route. “Where do you need me?”

“You’re with me on ventilation,” Titan said. “Cruz handles processing. Storm runs interference on their cameras and security systems.”

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