“What can I say? I prefer to fly in style than as a rat in a ship’s cargo,” Matteo quipped, jabbing at Ares’s preferred method of transportation while trafficking guns.
Jared felt his shoulders jiggle as his body betrayed him and let out a chuckle.
Across the aisle, the corner of Ares’s lip curved upward, giving away the slightest hint of amusement.
It appeared that the man had succeeded in getting his boss to casually converse with him, even if it was to insult him.
“So, what do we know?” Ares asked, turning his attention toward the two giggling idiots sitting across from him.
Matteo shot Ares an annoyed look.
“What? What’s the point of asking you? I know you’ll just refer me to your muscle goons here, so I’m cutting out the middleman,” Ares retorted, giving his shoulders a slight shrug. “Feel free to get back to enjoying your pretentiousness.” He flipped his hand as if telling Matteo off.
Matteo just shook his head in annoyance.
Jared wasn’t quite sure what Ares’s background was. He had dark curly hair, slicked back just behind his ears with a rounder nose that gave him a bit of a Greek vibe. Yet, when the mantalked, he had a bit of a French accent with a hint of Egyptian. Or Arab?
The man was a fucking chameleon. His accent changed depending on the day, even his movements and mannerisms changed from time to time. Every time Jared saw the man—which wasn’t that often—he had a new theory as to where the man originally hailed from.
Matteo nodded to Jared.
After getting the okay from his boss, he pulled out his phone and pulled up his app.
“Using a tracking device, we were able to track them to an industrial area in Amsterdam.”
Ares nodded his head, listening closely as Jared spoke.
“What do we know about the facility?” Ares asked.
“I’m still gathering info, but it looks like it was officially closed five years ago but has had power pumping through the building for the past three years,” Chase added. “I’m still researching and looking at possible access points.”
“Elijah,” Ares called, snapping his finger at a large, scowling man sitting two seats over. The man stood up and stopped next to Chase. “Elijah will help you finish your assessment. He is the head of my security team and has worked jobs for me before in Syria, Uzbekistan, Moscow, and Romania. This man can get in and out of a hole in the desert without disturbing a grain of sand.”
Chase nodded, closing up his laptop and moving over to another two-seater that gave the men a bit more room to work.
Sensing a pair of beady eyes on him, Jared glanced up at Ares, who was staring at him with inquisitive eyes.
“So? You are the boyfriend?” the man asked, French accent coming out thick.
Every time. It always threw Jared off balance seeing a Greek-looking guy who greeted like an Italian, swore like an Irishman, yet sounded like a Frenchman.
Jared shook his head. “No, just friends.” He shot a glance over at Matteo, who was pretending to look out his window.
Ares shook his head, not believing him.
“The look in your eyes tells me different.” Ares glanced over at Matteo before turning his attention back to Jared. “I’ve seen people in love before, but none of their eyes looked quite as intense as yours. I see fire and passion and a hunger that will only be satisfied when it is holding the man who it loves in his arms once again.”
Ares took a sip of his vodka. “I also see something else.”
Now, Jared was curious. “Oh? What’s that?”
“I see power, possession, and rage. A man like you loves with more than just his heart. When he finds his match, he bonds with them. No matter where they are, he can feel them. He can call to them. The love and bond that they share were built out of joint pain. A shared suffering that only the two of them understand. It is that connection, that possession, that draws the two of you together. And when the safety and security of one of those men are in danger?” Ares gave an evil grin as he leaned back in his chair. “God help the man who caused it.”
Ares let out a quiet chuckle as he downed the rest of his drink in a single swallow.
Jared considered the man’s words. He was right. He felt that passion, that fire, that pull. He felt like a bomb ready to explode. He just needed to point his rage in a particular direction.
“So, tell me, Ares, have you experienced that sort of passion yourself?” Jared asked, curious about how such a dangerous man could know so much about something so intense.
