Page 68 of Over the Edge

“Decker,” Moreau said, his voice pitched between surprise and pleasure. “I wasn’t aware you’d received an invitation.”

Decker’s smile was sharp as a blade. “I didn’t. Have to say, I’m hurt, Nico.”

“I’d heard you retired.”

“You know I never miss a good party. Especially when such unique items are on the menu.” Decker clapped Moreau on the shoulder like they were old friends. “Now, tell me what treasures you’ve brought us this time.”

I watched them move away, deep in conversation, Decker slipping into Moreau’s orbit like he’d always belonged there. My blood simmered with irritation. Had Ethan sent them because he thought I couldn’t handle the mission? Was this another test? Or worse, a sign that I’d already failed?

I caught Flynn’s eye across the room. He gave a slight shrug, eyebrows raised in subtle surprise. So he hadn’t known either. That was something, at least—I wasn’t the only one being kept in the dark.

I circulated among the guests, maintaining Elisa’s persona while cataloging every scrap of information I could. The Yemeni arms dealer mentioned shipments being diverted through Cyprus. The Russian operative complained about increased security along the Georgian border. The Chinese businessman kept checking his watch, clearly waiting for something specific.

All the while, I was acutely aware of Decker working the room, his laughter floating above the crowd as he charmed potential rivals and allies alike. Everyone here seemed to know him, and I repeatedly heard “Ace of Spades” muttered as he made his way around the room.

Ace of Spades.

The death card.

Why was I even here if Edge had a man like Decker in their pocket? If he was powerful enough to just show up at Moreau’s uninvited, with everyone knowing who he was, why waste time with a deep cover like mine?

The sting of not being trusted mixed with something else—a growing sense that I was just a placeholder, a temporary solution until they could get a real operative in place.

I was moving toward the bar when Decker intercepted me, his timing too perfect to be coincidental.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said smoothly, extending his hand. “Decker.”

“Elisa Deveraux,” I replied coolly and took his hand. I really didn’t know what to make of him. He was with Trent, so he had to be one of the team, but he was playing this role with such natural ease that I found myself wondering where the act ended and the real man began.

“Ah.” He bowed over my hand, placing a light kiss on my knuckles. “So you’re Moreau’s pet heiress from Paris. I’ve heard you’re stirring things up around here.”

Was he deliberately provoking me? Testing me, seeing if I’d maintain my cover?

I yanked my hand back and glared at him. “Mr. Decker, I am no one’s pet.”

A slow grin broke across his face. “Decker’s my first name. Sinclair is the family name, but you can call me whatever you like, Ms. Deveraux.”

Behind me, I heard Flynn’s soft growl.

Decker’s gaze shifted to him for an instant before his smile widened. So he wasn’t only here to test me, but he was also appraising Flynn’s performance.

Ethan really didn’t trust either of us.

I don’t know why that realization hurt so much. I’d known it, but having Decker and Trent here just drove the point home.

All this time, I’d thought I was a placeholder for Maya, but what if I was just a temporary solution until they could get Decker in place?

Did I really want to continue with a team that didn’t trust me?

A server appeared with a lowball glass of whiskey and Decker took it without looking at the man.

“What brings you to Moreau’s little soirée?” he asked, sipping the whiskey. “You don’t seem like his usual crowd.”

I smiled. “I enjoy auctions.”

“What are you hoping to acquire tonight?”

“Something that will give me an edge.” I met his gaze steadily, letting a hint of steel show beneath Elisa’s polished exterior. “I don’t like to lose.”

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