She held his gaze for so long, he was certain it was a dream. He bloody well wanted it to be—some garish nightmare from which they’d soon awaken, tangled together in his bed after another passionate night. He’d kiss the spot on her neck just beneath her ear, and whisper to her about the craziest dream he’d ever had.
“Artwork aside,” she said, returning her attention to the table, “what would you do with the cars? No way. It’s too complicated.”
Dorian’s stomach bottomed out. “They’re planning to go after the cars as well? Bloody hell, Charlotte. How do you live with yourselves?”
“I don’t,” she said. “Being a thief? It’s not a glamorous life. It’s not a life at all. I don’t have friends. I don’t date. I don’t work or explore new things or go on adventures. The dresses, the hair, the makeup… It’s all funded by the operation. The only thing that gets me through the day—everyday, no matter how terrible—is Sasha. When she showed up on my doorstep, everything clarified. My issues didn’t matter anymore—not like that. She’s my whole life, Dorian. My everything.”
“I understand you love her, Charlotte, but she shouldn’t be your sole reason for living.”
“No, and I shouldn’t be stealing. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess. I shouldn’t have let Rudy sell off my father’s estate. I shouldn’t have done a lot of things, but I did, and those are the cards I’m working with now. Obviously, it’s not the greatest hand.”
“Not the worst, either.” Dorian offered a small smile—the last he had, for now. “You’ve got me, and I can be fairly resourceful when the need arises.”
Charlotte nodded, but her return smile didn’t reach her eyes. She was exhausted—and with good reason.
“So here it is, then,” he said, downing the last of his wine. “I’m going to buy your freedom.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your dear Uncle Rudy isn’t an art collector, love. He’s a common thug. He’s only in it for the money. So I offer him a large sum, free and clear, no messy logistics like fencing and money laundering. He takes the cash, and you get to live out the rest of your days on the right side of the law. Of course, you’ll have to find a legitimate job, and maybe move out of your father’s penthouse, but—”
“No. He’d never go for it.”
“We’re not talking about a few hundred dollars. Believe me, I’d make it worth his while.”
“Dorian.” Charlotte set down her glass and crossed the kitchen, sliding her hands over his shoulders. Despite the ache of his still-healing bite wound, her touch was electric, radiating pleasure across his shoulder blades.
Fuck, he still wanted her. More than anything.
“I appreciate your offer,” she said. “But this isn’t the kind of job you just walk away from. I’ve seen too much. I know all of their secrets, even if I can’t prove them in court. The only way people like me walk away from this life is if we’ve got enough hard, irrefutable evidence to keep the other guy in constant fear of its release, or if… if we die.”
Immediately Dorian’s mind flashed to her story about Rogozin’s men—the type of danger her own father had placed her in. Over what—money? Power? Wasn’t that what it always came down to?
Even as a human, Dorian had always been wealthy, a privilege he’d clearly taken for granted. He tried to imagine Charlotte as a child, doing her best to follow in her father’s tainted footsteps, never realizing those footsteps would lead her straight to the grave.
The thought pierced Dorian’s heart. Her father was as much a monster as her uncle. Daddy Dearest may not have put his hands on her, but he’d driven her to a life of brutality and violence just the same.
Exactly as Dorian’s father had done to him.
Relocating her and Sasha, relocating the artwork, offering Rudy a buyout… None of his suggestions had really mattered, anyway. Deep in Dorian’s gut, heknewthey weren’t operating under the human lowlife scenario.
Just as Charlotte had said about her own line of work, demonic entanglements weren’t the sort of thing you walked away from. If her uncle had been involved with Rogozin in the past, he was almost certainly still involved with him now.
Which meant Charlotte and Sasha’s lives weren’t the only ones at stake.
It also meant something else.
Leverage.
“We’re not out of cards yet, love.” Dorian reached up and grabbed one of her hands, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Somewhere along the line, your uncle fucked up. Aside from me, I’m betting there aremanyothers who’d like to see him dangling from his cock. Men, demons, vampires… the possibilities are endless.”
“Okay. But what does that mean for us?”
“It means, myincorrigiblelittle prowler…” Dorian cupped her face and grinned. “It’s time to put your special talents to better use.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “Which talents, specifically?”
“You and I are going to do a bit of snooping,” he continued, brushing a fingertip over the arched brow. “Your uncle has skeletons. We’re going to dig them up. Every last bone, from every last grave, from every last cemetery. And then, when we find something incriminating, we’re going to make that bastard an offer hereallycan’t refuse.”
