Except for today. He should have known the Pride would be as close to finding the key as they were. He thought he had at least a day’s lead after he left them a false trail, sending them searching for the key somewhere down in Peru while Roman and his crew went to the real location.
He was wrong, and now he worried about what else he’d gotten wrong. How close was Leonidas to getting the book and ending this wild chase? He was comforted in the fact that Leonidas had to turn tail and run, same as Roman had, both of them equally empty-handed in their escape.
There was one advantage Roman had over Leonidas: knowledge that the key they were both hunting was only half of the puzzle. They’d need someone to decode the key, and that someone was supposed to be Wyatt Hernandez, Roman’s old flame and biggest mistake. Not that Wyatt was a mistake—that was an impossibility. But meeting him, falling desperately in love with him, and then shattering his heart into a tiny million pieces certainly qualified as a massive mistake in Roman’s eyes.
He figured the hardest part of this entire job would be to get Wyatt on his side, and he knew it would take more than a single question asked moments after gunshots blasted through the air. Roman would have to prove he not only needed him but that he wanted to make up for the fucked-up shit he’d done, and what better way to do that than give Wyatt the chance at being a billionaire.
In his bedroom, Roman went to his walk-in closet and pulled out a black shirt with gray shorts, laying them out on the bed before going to his underwear drawer and taking out a navy blue jockstrap. He slipped those on, looking out the floor-to-ceiling window framing a picturesque view of gentle blue waves and a cloudless summer sky, the beach packed with rainbow umbrellas and sunbathing tourists. A cruise ship made its slow crawl across the horizon while a small plane advertised a foam party at a nearby club.
Roman finished getting dressed, slipping on his favorite Rolex—silver with a ruby-red face—just as his phone started to ring.
“Hey, Phantom, what’s up?”
Axle “Phantom” Phillips was the crew’s locksmith, a professional at breaking through any closed door or sealed vault. He worked as if he were an ethereal being, able to just walk on in like a ghost passing through a wall. Roman recruited him two years ago for a heist that found them in an underground safe surrounded by ancient mummies, one of them holding on to an insanely valuable diamond-and-sapphire necklace. Axle effortlessly got them through five checkpoints and three reinforced steel doors that were equipped with optical locks and biometric readers, making it seem like malfunctioning children’s toys.
“Mustang is getting impatient. Wants to know when you’re coming down.”
“Does she have somewhere else to be?”
“Not sure. Think so—she keeps texting someone and smiling. I think she’s setting up a date—”
The phone was snatched from Phantom, Monica ‘Mustang’s voice replacing his. “Roman, I’m not setting up a date. I’m talking to Alejandro.”
Roman froze, sneakers hanging from his hand. “Your Pride contact?”
“That’s the one. He says they’re on the move, but they’re not going after the book. They’re going after something else. Someone else.”
“Who?”
“He wasn’t sure, just said Leonidas switched up their orders at the last minute.”
Roman’s gut twisted. This didn’t bode well, not at all. He thought back through the events of the day, replaying conversations and scenes on fast forward. Did Leonidas figure out the other reason Roman was at that science museum?
He threw on his sneakers and ran, hurrying down the hall and slamming a palm against the elevator’s call button. “I’ll be right down.” He hung up the phone and stepped into the elevator, next to a woman in her bright pink bathing suit holding a Pomeranian in her hands, which was also wearing a matching pink bathing suit.
“Hey, Roman, you look a little frantic. Everything okay?”
Franny lived directly above Roman, having introduced herself three separate times on the day she was moving in. She enjoyed pointing out the obvious while being oblivious to it all at the same time.
“Just work stressing me out. Same shit, different day.”
“You’re telling me. I spent all morning getting into verbal boxing matches with my internet’s tech support people and then found out my favorite Cuban deli down the street is closing, so I’m going to have to find a new place to sit and sip my cortadito. I think Saturn is having a retroascension… or is it a retro… retro…”
“Retrograde?”
“Yesssss, Saturn’s in retromade, which—and I read this in my spiritual guide’s handbook, so it has to be true—means we’re all fucked. Isn’t that fun?”
Roman considered getting off on the fifth floor and just running down the stairwell, but he stayed on, tuning Franny out, his mind whirring back to Wyatt’s scared but determined face after turning down Roman’s request for his help.