"You can do this, Sierra," I whispered, slamming the brakes a little too hard as the light turned red.
"Sorry!" I mouthed at the furious driver behind, then rolled up my window and blasted Katy Perry's Eye of the Tiger.
"This is it. 200 Montgomery Street."
The watch read 6:30 a.m. sharp. I slid my phone onto DND mode in anticipation of Matthew's call and turned off the engine.
The Maine Mansion loomed only a few blocks away. If I was lucky, I'd catch Carlos Maine himself, the ghostlike CEO that shied away from public eyes.
Sirens howled in the distance. Engines revved closer. It was time to activate my plan.
I yanked my beanie low and hissed, "Now."
I flung the door open and sprinted into the street, straight into the incoming convoy of tinted SUVs
"Wait!" I screamed. Tires shrieked as the lead vehicle skidded to a stop, few inches from me.
Doors flew open and the guards stormed out, grabbing my arms.
"Lady, you got a death wish?" one barked.
"No! I need to speak with Mr. Maine!" I wriggled defiantly against their grip
The cars had all screeched to a halt and several men now surrounded the SUV at the center of the convoy. Executives always rode in the middle; my husband did same. I knew he was in there.
"Paparazzi?" another sneered.
"Get your filthy hands off me!" I snapped as one inspected me for weapons
"Boss!" a guard called over his shoulder. "Not press. Says she needs a word."
I planted my feet, voice rising. "Carlos Maine! I need to talk to you. Please!"
A baritone voice snapped from the SUV
"Bring her into my car"
My knees bucked with relief as my palm sweated profusely
***********
The air in the SUV was thick; woody, musky, edged with oud. It jolted me. Matthew wore something similar. My husband.
"And you are?" he asked, one brow arched in faint annoyance. Handsome, too handsome... but the arrogance in his posture ruined it.
"I can't disclose my identity here," I murmured, flickering at his driver.
"Not with company."
His smirk was razor-sharp. "You think I'll dismiss my driver just so a stranger can whisper secrets"
I took off my shades and stared right at him with boldness and defiance
"I'm sure I don't look like an assassin of sorts."
"Maybe I'm not the best judge of appearances." He responded with an air of caution
I leaned in closer "What if I told you this was about the Ton?"
A wicked smile tugged at my lips.
I had rehearsed that question several times. It was my bait
His expression changed, just slightly, but enough.
"Rico," he said softly, never taking his eyes off me, "leave us."
Heat rose in my cheeks. I knew the moment he learned this was about Matthew Wellington, "the Ton" as he was referred to in his inner circles, he'd realize I wasn't bluffing.
Once Rico stepped out, I tugged off my beanie hat, golden strands of hair tumbling free from my head, then slid the shades from my brown eyes.