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King’s grandpa had taken over when Doc had gotten choked up. “Cherry just had her second daughter, and damned if the first doesn’t look just like her.”

That was when I’d finally put the pieces together.

King Wilde used art as his way of expressing love.

He’d produced forgeries for Elek in hopes Elek would love him. And when that didn’t work, he stole art Elek wanted him to steal.

I watched King’s sleeping form as I unbuttoned my shirt. He tried to right his wrongs by stealing pieces from wrongful owners and giving them back to rightful owners. He kept Elek from his wish list items as a symbol of withholding his love.

After taking off my clothes, I slid into bed next to him, curling around his back and feeling the comfort of his warm skin. Even though I knew better, I wondered what a life with King Wilde would look like long-term. His family had mentioned him moving back to the States, to Texas. What would he do there? Would he be happy? How would he keep art alive in his life in a way that satisfied him?

Just before drifting off to sleep, I wondered if King’s insistence on returning the crown was indicative of his feelings for me. Maybe that was why he was insisting on doing it despite the risks—as proof of his commitment to me, to his new life.

It wasn’t until he was entering the Hungarian Parliament Building with the crown the following night that I realized just how wrong I was.

King hadn’t done any of this for me. He’d done it for Elek Kemény.

And the truth of that realization cut me deeper than I expected, confirming just how much I’d let myself fall for him in such a short period of time. So when King looked me in the eyes and begged me to trust him, I was once again faced with an impossible choice:

Believe King Wilde’s emotion-filled plea, or do my job.

I was back in the middle of the Van Gogh job all over again.

30

King

Keeping things from Falcon made me low-key nauseous all day. I’d woken up the morning of the Budapest job sandwiched between a hot slab of man muscle and two tight balls of black-and-white fur. It had taken about three seconds before the cats shot off the bed and I’d felt the slick intrusion of Falcon’s hard cock pressing between my cheeks.

I’d tilted my hips back in invitation and enjoyed every second of his body’s attention on mine. It was the kind of wake-up I could get used to very easily.

But that had been eighteen hours and another lifetime ago.

Now I was huddled in the back of a rental van on a side street in Budapest feeling like I was truly going to vomit.

What if Elek didn’t show up?

Hell, what if he did?

Was it selfish of me to want my own closure on all of this? Yes, of course I knew it was. And I knew the risk I was taking with Falcon’s career by fucking with his op, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the risk I was taking with his trust in me.

Ziv shoved my shoulder to get my attention. “What the fuck is up with you tonight? Linney just ran a comms test, and you sit there like dead fish.”

“Maybe he’s nervous,” Mouse suggested. “Give him a break, Ziv.”

“He’s not fucking nervous,” Ziv snapped. “Something’s going on he’s not telling us.”

Falcon watched us silently from the front, not saying a word. His stoic face was impossible to read.

“Look,” I said, “there’s a reason I’ve never attempted the crown job. This place is a fortress. Can I be allowed a little bit of stage fright?” It wasn’t a lie.

Falcon’s eyes narrowed the smallest amount.

Please don’t hate me after this, I thought for the millionth time.

“Fine, be scared, but test your goddamned comms for Christ’s sake,” Ziv said with a little less heat.

I did as he said and confirmed everything with Linney before taking another deep breath and mentally rehearsing the entry again.

“Do you want some chewing gum? It helps,” Mouse asked, holding out a pack of mint squares. I smiled at him and took a couple, popping them in my mouth and muttering thanks.

“Why can’t we just go now since we’re ready?” Ziv asked. “I hate all this waiting bullshit.”

“I’m going in a few minutes before two,” I said for the tenth time. “If you’d like to do the breaking-and-entering portion of this job, by all means, then you go in now. But if you want me to do it, I’m going at the time I’ve determined I’m least likely to get caught.”

Ziv held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. Whatever. I just don’t get why—”

“Zip it,” Falcon snapped. “King is on this op for a reason. He’s the one of us who knows how to sneak into a building without getting caught, and that means even if he said we were doing this at high noon, we’d do it at high noon. The man knows what the fuck he’s doing.”

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