Rosemary laughed, but stopped when Madame shot her a warning look.
“We’re not leaving until we’ve arrested you for the contracted double murder of your employee Hedy Delacroix and your own son, David Goldfinch.”
Madame’s face darkened. She slithered up to Andreas. “How dare you accuse me of hurting David,” she hissed. Her perfume itched his nose. Out of context, the scene almost looked romantic. Bathed in soft red light, the two of them standing eye to eye as Weiss caressed his cheek. But behind her, Rosemary kept the gun trained on Beate.
Andreas recoiled at Madame’s touch, grimacing. Her hands trailed down his chest. She unbuttoned his shirt, and her fingers danced over his torso, searching for a wire he wasn’t wearing. He sucked in his stomach, shrinking back in disgust. Her gloating sneer widened at his reaction, her hands tracing his waist. He stepped back, but she caught him by his belt buckle.
“Not so fast,” she said.
Rosemary bounced the gun as a reminder.
Madame’s nails grazed his hips as she removed his utility belt and draped it over her shoulder like a mink stole. Without the weight of his gun, pepper spray, and cuffs, he felt exposed. Continuing her inventory of his anatomy, she pressed the contours of his body, kneading her palm over his zipper.
His body gave an involuntary arousal response. He felt blood rush to his pelvis and the revolting sensation as he twitched against her hand.
She gave a low moan of approval and said, “You know, in another life, had I employed men, you could have worked for me. I could have made some money with this.”
Bile burned the back of his throat. He swallowed it. He felt Beate watching him.
With the gate closed behind him, there was no escape. Madame loosened his belt. A cloak of numbness shrouded him. He locked his knees together, but his legs were rubber. The room seemed far away, like he was watching a video of it on a screen from some distant place, like his body wasn’t his problem to deal with anymore. But it was.
His body called him back with a wrenching stomach lurch as Madame slipped her cold fingers under the elastic of his boxer briefs, stretched them back, and peered into them. She raised her brows.
“Please. Stop,” he said, his voice weak.
His phone vibrated at his hip. Madame chuckled, snapped the elastic back, plucked the phone from his pocket, and squeezed his thigh before she stood. She ordered Rosemary to take Beate’s weapon.
She stepped back, basking in the glory of his humiliation. She held the phone to his face to unlock it. Before she turned it away, he caught a glimpse of a notification. From Sterling.
Madame read, her pale eyes lit by the screen, as a Botox-dulled smirk crept onto her face. Sterling’s message amused her. Which terrified him.
Andreas watched helplessly as, beside him, Rosemary stepped forward and removed Beate’s utility belt with one hand, pointing the gun to Beate’s temple with the other. Rosemary stepped back. “Done, Madame.”
Quick as a flash, Beate eyed him and glanced towards her ankle, where she kept a second pistol. Andreas clenched his jaw to mask his relief.
Rosemary balanced the revolver at her waist, like a novice who’d seen too many old gangster films. Though an untrained shooter could be more dangerous than a skilled one. Her thumb hovered over the hammer, which she hadn’t cocked. Yet.
Madame slipped off the shawl she’d made of Andreas’s utilitybelt, collected Beate’s from Rosemary, and dangled them both at arm’s length like roadkill.
“So inelegant,” she said, unzipping her suitcase, then dropping the weapons inside atop a stack of files. She returned her attention to Andreas’s cell phone. “A text from Sterling Lockwood. I’d read it aloud, but why spoil the fun? Looks like that Luddite is entering the modern era, if only for her final moments,” she said with a wry smile.
Sweat rolled down Andreas’s forehead, stinging his eyes. The lump in his throat constricted his voice when he spoke. “What have you done to Sterling?” he said raspily.
“I’vedone nothing. My associate from the Loos Bar is paying her a visit. Why so concerned? Has the little minx caught you in her snare? Well, of course she has. I taught her.”
“How long have you held this grudge against her? She isn’t responsible for any of this.”
“My son died on Sterling’s watch. She must have been scheming with Hedy. Turning her against me.”
“Your son died becauseyoupoisoned him.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’dneverhurt David. He was the most precious thing in the world. I loved him.”
“But you’d hurt Hedy.”
Madame’s expression flickered from fury to pain. “I knew Hedy was up to something. Her loyalty was tainted. I couldn’t have that. I had no idea my son was involved.”
Her icy eyes were stained red, revealing the viper she was beneath her white snakeskin exterior. But deeper, beneath the anger, was fear. Of being alone. Made sense; she was in a loveless marriage, hiding a double life, and witnessing the worst of mankind’s darkest desires. David had been all she had. “Loyalty?” Andreas said. “With David gone, who remains in your life that isn’t chained down by blackmailthreats? Your husband keeps you only for his reputation and whatever power your service provides him—”
