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Realization crashes through me. So that’s why they don’t sound like thugs. Bruce and Burke are well-read, even if they don’t have that much formal education.
“But we had to feed ourselves,” adds Bruce with humor in his tone.
“You can guess what happened next, can’t you?” asks Burke. I nod. It’s pretty obvious.
“It started with petty crimes,” explains Bruce, his hand resting on my waist. “Stealing food from grocery stores, that kind of thing. Then we started stealing objects and selling them. Often from little old ladies, but,” he emphasizes, seeing my appalled reaction, “they were rich and had lots of valuables. And our rule was to never leave someone without the means to live. And we never hurt anyone.”
“Weren’t you scared of getting caught?” I ask them in awe, despite myself.
“That’s the thing, princess,” growls Burke, giving my thigh a little squeeze. “We discovered we were good at it. Very good. We’ve never been caught, not to this day.”
“We started rising up in the ranks and making a name for ourselves. Some of the hardest criminals in this city were offering us huge sums of money for jobs they felt only we could take care of,” Bruce drawls. “But we never stayed with any group too long.”
I nod, as if I understand.
“You see, eventually everyone gets caught. Even the best,” explains Bruce. “It’s just a matter of time, so my brother and I prefer to keep to ourselves. Flying under the radar is the best way to keep a low profile,” he says. “It minimizes the chances of getting caught.”
This makes sense to me, and I nod.
Burke’s eyes go faraway then.
“Finally, we were at the top of our profession. The best of the best. We were revered and celebrated by the underworld, and there was simply no place to go. Nothing to conquer. As a result, we sought out new challenges and begin to target billionaire art collectors. Not even because we needed the money, but rather from the thrill of the chase.”
I gasp.
“Wait, you don’t need money anymore?”
They shrug.
“Hardly. Besides, even if we took that Jackson Pollock from your wall,” Bruce says, gesturing to the painting. “Where would we sell it? Interpol would be on our asses in a millisecond.”
I gasp again, my eyes wide.
“But surely, there’s someone who would buy it. Some amoral oligarch or tyrant from a third world country.”
The brothers shrug.
“Yeah, there are, but we like having it hang on our own walls sometimes.”
This time, I’m completely blown away.
“Wait, so you keep some of the art yourself? And you hang it up at your house?”
Bruce and Burke grin, teasing me.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Again, it’s the thrill of the chase. We like to steal from assholes to make them burn, and then we like to savor our plundered goods in the privacy of our homes. We have an amazing collection, if I say so myself.”
I gawk at them before remembering to snap my mouth closed. This completely blows away every pre-conceived notion I had of art thieves. Bruce and Burke aren’t doing it for the money or even the recognition. They’re doing this because they’re alpha males who enjoy a challenge, not to mention the fact that they appreciate fine art.
“Do you get it now?” asks Bruce with a smirk. “It’s a pretty simple story, once you get down to the basics.”
“I get it,” is my breathless nod. “My goodness.”
“So who is your daddy?” whispers Bruce against my neck as he caresses my face. “Now that you know our story?”
“You are,” I whisper back, smiling at them both.
“That’s right,” answers Bruce, kissing me. I can feel the current shooting through my body and down to my pussy at the feel of his lips on mine. But I have to stop him.
“Wait,” I say, pulling away. Bruce raises a single eyebrow in question. “I need to know one more thing.” Neither of them speak, just silently wait for me to continue. “How are you getting into my room every night? How are you getting into all of the rooms? My neighbor downstairs, on the news today, said you came in and took the Monet so fast and so quietly, he had no idea what happened. How are you doing it?”
Burke and Bruce exchange glances. I watch them have a silent conversation without moving a muscle or saying a word before they turn back to me.
“We might as well tell you, little girl,” growls Burke. “Because it could be to our advantage.” They stare at me, and I look back in anticipation.
“Well?” I breathe in anticipation. “Are you going to tell me or not?”
“It might be easier to show you, actually,” growls Bruce. With a heave, he picks me up from his lap and stands up, before setting me carefully down on my feet. Then, he takes me by the hand, and the two of them lead me over to the wall panels by the window. They watch me stare at it in confusion.
