But shedidhave a whole lot of expensive shit—shit Rudy had paid for. Shit that could be sold, pawned, and quickly converted into those sweet, beautiful greenbacks she so desperately needed.
Starting with the closet full of designer dresses she’d never actually liked, shoes that made her feet hurt, and jewelry she’d rather flush down the toilet than wear again, Charley got busy.
One outfit at a time, she dressed and accessorized herself like Barbie, shooting enough selfies for a celebrity Instagram feed. Each outfit reminded her of its corresponding heist—the forest green wrap dress and emerald tennis bracelet from the Killian job, the black pantsuit from the Washburn-Higgins job, the sable sweater dress and Louboutin pumps from the Porterfield assignment. As she stripped them from her body and placed them in the sale pile, she felt like she was shedding more of those desiccated leaves, revealing the soft, new growth underneath, almost ready to emerge.
A few hours later, one quick posting on her building’s community Facebook page—Dozens of luxury brands! Gently used—some never even worn! Cash only, everything must go!—and the penthouse “garage” sale was officially on.
By lunchtime, her neighbors had already shelled out over a thousand bucks, more than happy to take the beautiful dresses and jewels off her hands.
To them, it was a steal.
To Charlotte, who was done with stealing, it was a lifesaver.
No, a thousand bucks wasn’t enough to live on in New York City—not for long. And maybe it was small potatoes for someone like her billionaire vampire social media tycoon.
But still. They wereCharley’sfucking potatoes.
And for the first time in her life, she started to see the faintest glimmer of light illuminating a new path. The one that would lead her and Sasha out of thenowand into thesomedayshe’d been dreaming about.
By the end of the day, Charley had a lot more space in her closets… and close to three grand in cash in her hot little hands. She stashed the day’s earnings in a box of tampons in her bathroom and grinned at herself in the mirror, that tiny ember of hope inside flickering back to life, warming her heart.
Operation Fuck That Guy was in full effect.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Half a million,” Aiden said, leaning back in Dorian’s FierceConnect office chair and propping his feet on the desk. “That’s as low as the man is willing to go.”
Cole let out a low whistle. “That’s a lot of dough for a statue of a cat, Red.”
“Technically, she’s a lion,” Aiden said. “Well, half lion, half woman. Sekhmet was an ancient Egyptian war goddess known for drinking the blood of her enemies.”
Cole grunted. “You don’t say?”
“It was actually her downfall. After a particularly brutal slaughter, she was so crazed with bloodlust, the only way the gods could stop her from destroying all of mankind was to trick her into getting hammered on beer they’d dyed to look like blood. Quite crafty, that lot.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Dorian scrubbed a hand over his jaw. Cat, lion, blood of the enemy, what did it matter? Five hundred grand—in cash, no less—for a gilded statue the size of his arm in which Dorian had absolutely no interest… It was bloody extortion.
Still, his gamble had paid off, and for that, he was grateful.
Dorian knew he needed to get close to Estas. He was the link who could eventually reveal—intentionally or not—the demon connection to Charlotte’s uncle, along with other damning evidence they could use against the fucking twat. After reviewing Charlotte’s list of the artwork from the One Night Stand heist, the idea had taken root.
Apparently, the collector they’d robbed was particularly fond of the Egyptian deity; the list contained several statues and busts. Hoping Estas still had access to at least one of them, Dorian had Aiden contact the demon, posing as the assistant of a wealthy collector interested in Egyptian art.
Emphasis on wealthy.
Now, they had the demon on the hook. As for their next move, that’s where Cole came in, posing as the collector interested in the statue. If all went according to plan, he’d meet with Estas, make the buy, and establish a rapport.
Dorian wasn’t sure what came next. Getting a foot in the door had to come first. He’d figure out the rest later.
“He wouldn’t budge on price,” Aiden said.
“I suppose I haven’t got a choice, then,” Dorian said.
Aiden shrugged. “Not if we want to get close to Estas. A real wheeler-dealer, this demon. Cole needs to earn his trust, mate. Cash is the only way to prove we’re serious. Unless you’d rather your pretty little thief be involved.”
Dorian glared at Aiden, but there was no real ire behind it, just as there was no ire behind Aiden’s dig.
This morning, as they drove together from Ravenswood to the city, he’d finally come clean to Aiden about Charlotte’s involvement in the planned heist. He’d already told Cole and didn’t want to keep his best friend in the dark.
