Page 39 of The Sentinel

Now, I needed to see Claire.

17

CLAIRE

The night had taken on a surreal edge. The masquerade was winding down, but the energy outside Dominion Hall still crackled—cars idling at the curb, voices murmuring in the warm Charleston night, the faint clink of champagne glasses as the last of the city’s elite lingered on the steps.

I exhaled, smoothing my dress, still hyperaware of what Diego and I had just done. The file was no longer with me—I had stashed it in the library, tucked neatly between two old leather-bound books, right where Marcus would find it. Not a trace of it left on me. But my heart was still hammering, my nerves still on edge. Because even without the file, the night wasn’t over.

Diego stood beside me, lazily scrolling on his phone. “Remind me why we walked when you have a perfectly good rental?” He sighed dramatically. “Next time, I’m seducing a billionaire. Private drivers, champagne in the back seat—that’s the life we deserve.”

I huffed out a quiet laugh, trying to shake off the tension swirling in my stomach.

“Speaking of seduction,” I drawled, turning to Diego with a smirk. “Are we just going to ignore the fact that you spent half the night making eyes at that very tall, very well-dressed man at the bar?”

Diego didn’t look up from his phone, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I scoffed. “Oh, please. You were practically purring.”

He sighed dramatically, slipping his phone into his pocket. “What can I say? Southern charm is real, and that man had it in spades. Plus, he smelled like cedarwood and expensive sin.”

I grinned. “So, did you get his number?”

Diego pressed a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Claire, mija, do I look like the kind of man who asks for numbers?” He tossed his head back with a smirk. “No, no. I make them chase me.”

I rolled my eyes. “So, you’ll be seeing him again?”

“Depends,” he mused. “Is Marcus Dane the kind of billionaire who throws multiple fancy parties? Because I could suffer through another night of Charleston’s elite if it means another round of that man’s attention.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me,” he quipped, flashing me a knowing smile. “Now, let’s talk about your love life, because?—”

“Absolutely not,” I cut in, but Diego’s grin only widened.

Diego crossed his arms, giving me a slow, assessing look. “Oh, I think we absolutely should. Because remind me—what was our goal tonight?”

I groaned, tipping my head back toward the sky. “Diego?—”

“Make Marcus Dane jealous,” he finished for me. “And?”

I sighed, fighting a smirk. “And what?”

Diego gestured dramatically. “And did it work? Because based on the way you disappeared with him for—what was it? An hour? Two?—I’m thinking the answer is yes.”

I pursed my lips, pretending to think. “I don’t know. He seemed pretty in control to me.”

Diego’s laughter was sharp, delighted. “Please. That man was vibrating every time he looked at you. I half expected him to throw me into the harbor just for existing.”

I rolled my eyes, but warmth curled in my stomach. “You’re exaggerating.”

“Am I?” Diego challenged, tilting his head. “Because from where I was standing, he did not appreciate seeing me on your arm. And he sure as hell didn’t appreciate the way you worked that room.”

I chewed my lip, remembering the way Marcus had looked at me—possessive, dark, like he was barely restraining himself from dragging me away the second he saw me laughing with those men.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Diego pressed, nudging my arm. “Mission accomplished?”

I let out a slow breath, my pulse still thrumming from everything that had happened tonight. “Yeah,” I admitted. “I think it worked.”

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