–Caine–
After that passionate call with my gorgeous girlfriend, I left my room, cleaned up, and then glared at Damon.
"You know I hate lying to my lady."
Damon only shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Livana knows where we were. Tell her when we get back."
I sighed and sank into the chair across from him. My phone had been tampered with; to get them off our line, I had to—of all things—phone-sex my Deanne. I didn't care if they were listening. Let them eavesdrop and envy me hearing my private siren moan for me as she came. God, I don't want phone sex—I want my gorgeous Deanne to ride me until I die.
We weren't in Chile. We were in Istanbul. Damon had men arranged with the same height and features who could pass for him. We needed to finish this. Damon would be disguised, and so would I.
We prepared before we left: an artist to make us look nothing like ourselves, prosthetics, padding—yes, even a convincing big belly. We slung our duffel bags over our shoulders and headed out.
