Page 34 of Gambit
Returning her smile, I glance at Oliver. “Already done.”
“Aww,” Mrs Sterling says, giving a little sniff. “So sweet. Well, enough of that. Get to work, kids. You’ve got to sneak into Clifford’s office tonight without Peters knowing about it.”
“Not a problem,” Raph says, full of confidence in his breaking and entering skills.
Mrs Sterling nods and slips out of her seat, disappearing quickly.
“Okay, so how do we break into Chairman Harris’s office?” I ask. “That’s not exactly going to be easy. It’s pretty close to Peters’ office.”
“You doubt me?” Raph asks with a grin.
“Never,” I shoot back. “Lead the way then, oh, great one. We are awed by your mastery.”
He snickers, and I’m glad things are truly okay with us. My comment hurt him, and I know that, but he should’ve told me hisdad came through, and I wouldn’t have even thought what I did, let alone said it out loud.
“Let’s go,” I murmur as we follow Mrs Sterling out of the Rusty Anchor and meet up with Drago again. “You in for a bit of b & e?” I ask him.
He sneers. “Always.”
Nodding, we move out, back to the Merc, and this time in the direction of Castle University, where we are about to blow Peters out of the stratosphere.
18
RAPHAEL
The airoutside Castle University is slightly foggy, which makes this ideal conditions for a bit of breaking in. It’s late and the fog is our cover as we slip through it, from the back end of campus, making our way toward the admin building with a purpose that borders on aggressive.
“James, you and Drago are on lookout out here. Ollie, you’re our eyes once we get inside. Tarq, you’re with me and Eliza,” I instruct to nods from the group.
The campus is deathly quiet, the kind of silence that makes your skin prickle with anticipation. I can feel Eliza’s focus like a force beside me, her presence both soft and sharp as a blade. Tarquin has his phone up where he is in contact with James and Oliver.
I fish out the set of lock picks from my pocket, a small smile playing on my lips. I’ve done this plenty of times, but never with stakes this high.
The lock clicks open, and we’re in. “Piece of cake,” I whisper, but Eliza’s not in the mood for my shit right now.
“Wish everyone would stop mentioning cake,” she grumbles and rolls her eyes, her mind ticking away at the plan we’vegot in motion. We carefully move through the administrative corridors’ shadows despite the adrenaline thudding in our veins.
I watch Eliza and the way she’s taking in every detail of the place — ready for anything — as we finally reach Harris’s office door. She nods at me, and we’re about to make our move when suddenly Tarquin stops and indicates we press against the wall, crouching low.
“Peters,” he murmurs. “James says he came in the front.”
“Are you kidding me?” Eliza mouths, clenching her fists in frustration.
“Fuck!” I hiss under my breath. The entire plan could unravel if he catches us here. There’s no way we can talk our way out of this one, especially not with the file of skimming evidence clutched in our grip.
Eliza’s green eyes flash, a silent signal to stay sharp. We’re all tense, muscles coiled, ready for whatever comes next. I know she won’t back down—none of us will. This is more than just a mission; it’s personal. Peters has threatened her, and none of us are going to take that lying down, and we’re not about to let him get away with it.
I feel Tarquin’s hand on my shoulder, a silent, steadying presence as we listen to the muffled footsteps of Peters approaching. The air is thick with the tension of unspoken curses and clenched jaws. Eliza’s hand inches towards her waistband, where she keeps her blade hidden, a silent promise of violence if it comes to that. There’s a prickling sense of danger lurking just beneath the surface; we’re playing a deadly game of cat and mouse, and right now, we’re the fucking mice.
Idon’tlike it.
Peters’ footsteps grow nearer, but then, by some stroke of luck or perhaps the fickle hand of fate, they fade off in the opposite direction. I exchange a look with Eliza and Tarquin;there’s no need for words. We wait, silent as the shadows themselves, until we’re certain Peters is gone.
With a nod from Eliza, we move again. Tarquin stays by the door, keeping watch while I follow Eliza into Harris’ office. The room is enveloped in darkness save for the sliver of light from the moon that cuts through the windows. Eliza moves to the desk quickly. The file goes down with a soft thud on Harris’s desk; it’s damning evidence that will bring Peters down for good.
“We need to make sure he sees it first thing,” she whispers, straightening up the stack of papers so it’s impossible to miss. “But that no one else does.”
Scrawling on a post-it note, she writes: Urgent. For your eyes only.
