Chapter 249

• Leah's POV
• The clock on my wrist ticked like a smug little bastard, each second a jab at my nerves as I stood there, plotting culinary carnage. Six hours until the Miami Mayor's Annual Seafood Charity Dinner, and I was about to turn a fancy gala into a symphony of gurgles and groans. The TV blared in the background, some chipper anchor rattling on about celebrity cars rolling up to the hotel—shiny Bentleys and Teslas, all ferrying the rich and famous to their doom. I smirked, imagining them clutching their pearls and their stomachs by night's end.
• I glanced over at Seth, who was practically hypnotized by Sharbo's lazy laps in the shark tank. The kid's mop of hair flopped over his eyes, and he looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here, plotting with me. I gave his shoulder a solid pat, jolting him back to reality. "It's time, Seth."