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I didn’t correct him. “Camille has been taken.”
Bartholomew sat down on the couch, took another puff of the cigar, and then placed it in the ashtray. “By whom?”
I took a seat across from him. Grave did the same. “Karl.”
“Are you guessing, or is this confirmed?” He sat back on the couch, arms stretching out on either side.
“He called me,” Grave said. “I have twenty-fours to take her place.”
Bartholomew shifted his gaze to my brother and studied him for a while. “I heard what you did to his brother. Cold-blooded.”
“I didn’t know it was him.”
“Interesting,” he said. “Because I always thought you needed to know everything about a man, down to his blood type, before you put his organs inside someone else.”
“Roan switched out the men,” Grave said. “He wanted us to be enemies so we would kill each other.”
“And even in death, his plan is working.” He looked at me next. “You just got your girl back, and this happens… What a shame.”
“Help us,” I blurted, unable to word it in a tactful way.
“Me?” Bartholomew asked. “I was nice enough to sell her to you. I’ve always been a hopeless romantic…”
“One phone call and you could figure out where he is,” I said. “Where he’s holding her.”
He propped the side of his head on his closed knuckles and stared at me. “Our mission with Roan was a success. No one suspects I had anything to do with it, even though I’m the one who gains the most. I’d be stupid to roll the dice again so soon.”
“If we don’t get her back, you know what will happen to her.” I leaned forward in the chair, locking my eyes on this man in desperation.
He held my gaze for a long time before he, too, sat forward, arms on his knees. “And you know what will happen the second Grave hands himself over. You’ll lose your womanandyour brother.”
“That’s why I need the upper hand,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, even though I wanted to scream. “Get this information for me. We’ll storm in there and kill every one of those motherfuckers.”
Bartholomew rubbed his hands together, lost in thought.
“You must care for her,” I said. “You didn’t want to sell her.”
“Because she was useful to me. A lot of my men are useful to me. Doesn’t mean I care about them.”
Grave took over. “Camille is an innocent person. She’s not part of this world.”
“She became part of this world the second she sold herself for money,” Bartholomew said. “And she knows that. What I don’t understand is…why did they take Camille for Grave?” His eyes flicked to me. “You look alike, but not that much alike.”
“It’s complicated,” I said, not wanting to dive into ancient history right now.
Bartholomew grinned, like he’d figured it out. “Now I wish I’d taken a hit when I had the chance. She must be something else.”
In any other moment, I would pick up that hot cigar and shove it in his eyes. But I kept still and swallowed the rage. “Help us, Bartholomew. We have no leads, and if we don’t get to her before the twenty-four-hour deadline, she’ll be gone.”
“What’s in it for me?” he asked.
“Name your price,” I said. “Between the two of us, we can make it happen.”
“You should know me by now,” Bartholomew said. “Money isn’t an effective motivator. I move millions every single day. Every single hour, probably.”
“Then what do you want?” I asked.
He looked slightly amused. “Camille.”
