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CHAPTER 1
RONAN
Many things went through mymind the moment this woman stepped into the private garden. They’re gone now, though. Replaced by one singular thought burning its way through my chest, stealing the air from my lungs—she’ll eat me alive.Bit by bit, she’ll chew me whole, spit me out, then devour me all over again.
The strange thing is that I might actually ask her to do it. Might even beg. Which is why I know she must be a witch. There’s no other explanation for this paradox, this timid, delicate thing delivering such a visceral omen.
I should listen to the details of the business meeting taking place at this very moment. But her pure, deep-set eyes, trapped in a limbo between gray and blue, put a spell on me with their peculiar sparkle. Just like that porcelain skin that seems to glow in this twilight. It makes me wonder if I’m the only one seeing the creature before us, or if I’m bewitched.
There’s something about her. The way she timidly peeks at me from under those thin bangs that don’t fully cover her forehead. Something about the way her delicate curves stand before us. She reminds me of those precious ancient statues adorning museum halls.
Us…
My mind shifts into gear, trying to break free from this witch’s charm. I focus on all the people around me—my business partners, hers, and both our security teams.
“Ronan…” My brother’s tone doesn’t hide the fact that he’s trying to get my attention. “Meeting in two days to see the painting and close the deal sounds good to you too, yeah?”
He’s going to give me a hard time after this, I just know it.
“It does. We have a warehouse in a secure location, toward the edge of the city, quiet, secluded. We can meet there.” They’re the first words I’ve spoken since the meeting started, but I only seem to direct them ather—Ingrid Thorp.
“Respectfully, no.” The spell breaks further as Erika Brand, her business partner, replies, pulling my attention.
“No?” I question, narrowing my eyes on the brown-eyed woman.
“No offense, Mr. Hennessey, but I would prefer we meet in a place of our own choosing. Where we are a bit more… comfortable.”
She means safe. She doesn’t trust us, but then again, she has no reason to. We’ve never met before. This business deal was arranged through the dark corners of the web, where shady deals are struck, and most are for items that will never see anything but a crooked market.
Ingrid seems to share the sentiment, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, rubbing her fingers together. Her eyes nervously flash from the floor to me enough times that it gets me wondering—is it because of the meeting or… me?
A strange heat fills a part of me that has no business waking up right now.
“I believe we should all becomfortable,should we not?” I was expecting this. “Name the place. We’ll tell you if it works for us.”
Erika purses her lips and reluctantly agrees after her eyes drift briefly to my brother. “Rosenberg Hotel, in one of the private dining rooms of the restaurant. Eight in the evening, in two days—Friday.”
I turn to my brother Finn, to my right, Maddox and Carter behind me, and Vincent to my left. They all nod.
“Very well. We will bring our own appraiser and continue the conversation there.”
“Just a reminder, to ensure we are all on the same page. The price is no longer negotiable, and the sale will be final.”
“Final? No.”
“Yes,” she insists.
Erika’s back straightens further, her attitude grave, like until now she kept her guard low so she could offer us some sense of ease. Maybe under any other circumstances, I would be affected.
Not now. Not when my eyes drift once again to the porcelain witch standing quietly beside her, head tilted down ever so slightly. Not with that deceiving virtue painted on her lush lips, when her eyes scream of wickedness.
A bizarre desire grows inside of me, one that wants to crack her open and find out where that wickedness comes from.
“If you do not agree with the terms,” Erika continues, unwavering, “we have a long list of buyers, as you well know, who would accept them in a heartbeat. Considering the… dubious provenance of the painting, surely you understand why we have to wash our hands of it right away.”
“And surely you understand why three million is a lot of money to gamble with,” I argue.
“If you’re looking to gamble, Mr. Hennessey, I suggest visiting The Royal Casino on third street. We are seeking a business deal here.” I think the air is sucked out of the atmosphere as Ingrid speaks for the first time.
