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The Scientific Method
Jay didn’t like Sebastian touching his chest. They’d established that early on, and Sebastian hadn’t questioned it since. But here they were nearly two months post-surgery, and already something was different—the way Jay carried himself, the way he moved. There was an ease to it that wasn’t there before. Hence, the experiment.
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Four Days Later
The Reina was a two-star hotel near the heart of Marbella’s Old Town. Its rooms were small, its amenities limited, and the air conditioning barely worked. Jay considered it a vast improvement over the Serenidad—especially since the television in their room was an old-fashioned CRT model and dumb as a brick.
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Plan M
Up until now, Sebastian had been confident he could pull off a vault heist on a moment’s notice; it occurred to him now, for the first time, that he was slightly too drunk to be attempting this.
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The Target
Moran settled into character immediately: the baffled boyfriend, too drunk to keep his voice down. “What did I do this time?” A few of the other guests glanced their way. “One minute you’re all over me, the next you’re pushing me away—what do you want from me?!”
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Zone Surveillance
Sebastian went back to sifting through his emails. The bathroom door closed, the muffled noise of the shower drifting through. He was halfway through a careful reply to Milverton Analytics’ inquiry about a consult when a loud thump resounded from inside the bathroom.