The rooftop overlooked almost the entirety of Milan, glittering beneath the midnight sky like a city that had never heard the word restraint. Golden lights reflected against champagne glasses, designer watches and expensive smiles as soft jazz drifted through the air.
Kabir fit into places like this too easily.
Tailored black suit, silver watch peeking beneath his sleeve and confidence polished enough to pass for old money. He stood near the bar with one hand lazily tucked into his pocket while the other held a glass of whiskey he had no intention of finishing.
His eyes scanned the crowd once.
Couples.
Investors.
Politicians.
Bored wives.
Lonely rich men pretending they weren't lonely.
Everyone had a tell.
"You already found your target?" Luca murmured beside him in Italian, taking a sip from his drink.
Kabir's lips tilted slightly. "Twelve minutes ago."
Luca followed his line of sight towards a middle aged businessman laughing too loudly near the far corner. Expensive suit. Newly divorced. Rolex worn slightly loose which meant recent weight loss. Trying too hard to appear relaxed.
Easy.
"Poor bastard," Luca muttered.
Kabir hummed absentmindedly. "Poor people don't wear watches worth thirty thousand euros."
He placed his glass down and walked towards the man with the kind of ease that made strangers trust him before he even spoke.
By the time he reached the group, he was already smiling.
"Mr. De Santos?" he greeted smoothly.
The man turned with polite confusion. "Yes?"
He extended his hand calmly. "Kabir. We briefly met at the Bellucci charity auction last winter."
A lie.
A perfect one.
Because uncertainty flickered across the man's face first before embarrassment replaced it. Human beings hated admitting they forgot someone important.
And Kabir knew exactly how to weaponize that.
“Ah yes, of course!” the businessman replied quickly, shaking his hand.
Kabir smiled warmly like he understood completely. “I heard congratulations are in order regarding the hotel acquisition.”
That part was true. He had overheard it fifteen minutes ago from another investor.
The man's chest visibly puffed with pride.
Hooked.
For the next twenty minutes, Kabir became exactly who the man needed him to be. Intelligent enough to impress him, charming enough to lower his guard and mysterious enough to feel important.
He mirrored gestures unconsciously. Laughed at the right moments. Maintained eye contact just enough.
Dropped selective details about international investors and luxury property expansions.
Nothing excessive. Just enough to make greed bloom.
By the end of the conversation, Mr. De Santos himself asked for Kabir’s number.
Luca snorted the second he returned. “You make it look disgustingly easy.”
“It is easy,” Kabir replied simply.
Because people desperately wanted to believe beautiful lies when those lies benefited them.
That was the funny thing about scams. Most people were not tricked.
They volunteered.
Luca shook his head with amusement. “One day someone’s going to ruin you.”
Kabir leaned against the railing overlooking the city below, gaze drifting across the streets glowing beneath the night. Somewhere below, laughter echoed faintly from a passing couple crossing the road together beneath one umbrella.
A little girl ran ahead of her parents near the canal, tiny boots splashing through puddles while her mother scolded her lovingly.
His eyes lingered for a second longer than necessary. Something unfamiliar twisted in his chest before disappearing just as quickly.
Families. People who belonged somewhere.
He looked away first.
“That requires me to care first,” he answered calmly before picking up his whiskey again.
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