Just as I kicked off my shoes and dropped my day bag on the front entrance table, my cellphone rang.
“Hello,” I answered.
“I have a question for you,” a polished feminine voice said.
I inhaled deep, knowing my plans for the evening were about to get shot to hell.
“Go ahead.”
“Are you up for a game of poker?”
“Always,” I said with a sigh and then added, “How much do I need to spend and what information do you need me to get?”
I moved into my living room and dropped onto my couch, curling my feet up next to me.
“The spend is up to you. The information breach is platinum.”
Platinum meant the data transfer level of the information I would harvest was the deepest it went. Usually only government entities or royal families requested this type of hacking. This also meant the microchip tracker I designed had to be of the highest quality and untraceable when installed.
“Client?”
“One of the usual suspects.”
We both were quiet for a second and then laughed. The two of us liked to refer to my male counterparts in the hacker world as the “usual suspects,” the ones who went rogue and offered their services to the underbelly of the world.
“Understood.”
“Standard delivery method?”
“Yes.”
“Shoot over the details via the secure network. I’ll have it to you tonight.”
“Transferring.” I heard the click of keys. “Now that we’ve discussed the assignment, what are you wearing tonight?”
I laughed. This was how it always was with my best friend Devani Patel. We always handled the business aspect of our relationship first.
By day, Devani was a socialite and heiress to a large diamond empire, and my rival in society. Behind the scenes, she worked as Van, an agent for Solon, an underground international organization that would use any means necessary, legal or illegal, to take down the scum of the world.
She was also one of the deadliest people I’d ever encountered. She used her petite size to let others underestimate her abilities, something we had in common.
We’d met while I was in my undergraduate program at Columbia. One of my professors had dropped my name to a member of her organization as an up-and-coming expert in the use of technology to authenticate art. Devani contacted me to date a sculpture she’d discovered during an assignment. One that turned out to be a forgery and carried a microchip with information on an organized crime ring.
Over the next few years, we’d become friends and worked together on assignments that needed discreet tech investigation. She also became the one person who knew the most about my plan to take down Uncle Ashok.
“Hold up. We have yet to negotiate my fee.” I adjusted my phone to my other ear.
“Your fee. Does this sound acceptable? I’ll double your standard rate for this last-minute job, and I have a name for you.”
Goosebumps prickled my skin. The last thing I expected from this conversation was anything to do with my plans for Uncle Ashok.
She continued, “Are those terms agreeable?”
“Yes.” My fingers flexed on the phone. “Now tell me, who do I need to contact and what do they have on my uncle?”
“He is someone you know very well.” The amused lilt to her voice had a lump forming in my stomach and a vision of dark, heated eyes appearing in my mind. “Someone you watch from afar.”
“Nikhil King,” I whispered without thinking.
“Very good. As to what he has, I don’t know. But my source says it’s something that keeps Ashok Shah’s balls in a vise grip. You are going to have to figure out what it is and the cost to obtain the information. Any clue as to what it could be?”
“Hell if I know. But it has to be the root of why Uncle hates the Kings so much.”
“Then I suggest you start working. This is the match that will burn down Shah’s house of cards.”
I swallowed. “What am I supposed to do? Walk back into Nik’s life and ask for a favor? Everyone knows favors from Nik come at a price.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what you do if destroying Shah is worth it at any cost.”
I thought of my parents and everything they’d sacrificed to be together and then answered, “It’s worth it.”
“And if he wants more than a monetary or business favor?”
“Meaning?” I knew what she meant.
Hell, I’d felt the attraction between us growing ever since Jayna and Kiran had gotten together and Nik had stepped back into my world. The man drew me in a way that no other man had ever done before. It was visceral and unexplainable. And I hated when things couldn’t be explained.
“I’ve seen the way you two eye-fuck each other when you think no one is looking.”
“You need to up the prescription on your contacts.”
“Come off it. When we aren’t playing Van and Dan in our espionage games, we do run in the same socialite circles.”
Ignoring her comment, I said, “He’s someone I knew from the old neighborhood. A childhood crush, nothing more.”
“Who grew into a gorgeous, albeit dangerous, man.”
“Let me repeat, meaning?” I cocked a hand on my hip as if she could see me, and then dropped it back onto my lap.
“Meaning, his price could be you. And if it is you, are you willing to pay?”
“First of all, I have to arrange a meeting with him, then I have to broach the subject of what he has on Uncle Ashok before any of this is even a possibility.”
“King is invited tonight. If he shows, step one is set in motion. Then you have to arrange a time for a private discussion.”
“I really hate you sometimes.”
“No, you don’t.”
“When do the first games start?”
“Ten.”
I lifted my wrist and glanced at my watch. It was already six fifteen. “Not leaving me much time, Van.”
“Didn’t you say you loved a challenge?”
“Asshole,” I muttered. “Bye. I have to get to work.”
“Wait. Did you hear the news?”
“If it’s gossip, I don’t want to know. I have work to do.”
“Come on. Humor me.”
“Fine. What?”
“There’s a rumor the Little Rabbit hacked Manjeet Rai.”
I almost smirked at that but kept it in. “Why do I care what’s happening on the other side of the world, and to a cartel leader, of all things?”
“I’m just curious. You hackers know everything about each other.”
“No, we don’t. Hell, most people think Dan is a man. Just like no one would ever think the princess of the Indo-America affluent community is a spy going by the name Van.”
It was par for the course when it came to anything of notoriety that a man was given credit. Was it really that hard to imagine women were smart, cunning, or devious?
“Point well made. If you ever find out who it is, please pass the info on. I’m dying to know. This person is my idol. She or he does all the shit we think about, but without the ramifications to our careers.”
“We actually do all the shit most people think about without the ramifications.”