AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Ah, yes.” The woman claps her hands together as she takes in the rows of priceless works. “This is more like it,” she says, sliding past Callie toward the wall to examine a nearby Raphael. Callie stands aside to make room, allowing the door to the vault to drop shut, still unsure why her hackles are standing on end. She grips the keys more tightly, not taking her eyes off the newcomer. “Yes, I do believe you can give me what I need, Ms. Burns.”
Callie shivers. For the love of god, she tells herself. It’s not like she’s—
But just as the woman reaches into her purse, the alarm bell that has been flashing in the back of Callie’s mind finally increases to a roar, and she finally realizes what’s wrong.
“I never told you my last—” Callie begins.
But then the woman is pulling a pistol out of her bag, her broad smile vanishing.
Callie’s heart stops in her chest. “I... Please,” she says, fear making her voice tremble. “I... we don’t keep cash on the premises—”
“I told you, Ms. Burns, money is no object to me,” the woman replies, brandishing the pistol as Callie’s hand twitches toward the vault door. “No sudden moves, please. I would hate to get blood all over these priceless works of art.”
Callie’s eyes widen, fear seizing her, and she freezes. “Okay,” she whispers. “Okay. Just... please don’t kill me.”
“Believe me, I wouldn’t want to have to,” the woman says. “And I don’t plan to... if you can give me what I want.” She points to the door. “Open it, please. Slowly. Try anything and I’ll blow your head off.”
Trembling, Callie does as she’s told, nearly dropping the keys in the process. The door swings open, and she’s half-expecting to be forced back into the main room, but instead, she finds herself face-to-face with an all-too-familiar pair of dark eyes.
For a split second, she’s more shocked than afraid. “Lucas?”
What is he doing here?
But then Vivian’s husband is shoving her back into the vault, pulling the door shut behind him, and the look in his eyes is even more terrifying than the gun that’s trained on her. “Lucas, what...” She swallows. “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on?” he asks, grabbing a fistful of her hair as he walks her backward, the woman following with the gun still brandished. “I’ll tell you what’s going on, Callie. We three are going to have a little chat, and you’d better damned hope we like what you have to say.”
Terror floods her body, and Callie opens her mouth to scream, but Lucas just laughs. “Go ahead,” he says. “Scream all you want. No one will hear you in here.”
And as it turns out, he’s right.
ChapterThirty
Liam is long gone when I wake up the next day, and so is Theo. So much for not letting me out of their sight, I guess—but considering it’s nearly noon, I can’t complain that much. Still, I feel deliciously sore from the sex, and the distress of the attack is already starting to seem like a distant dream. The activity in the house is subdued today, although the guards still patrol the balconies. I can see others working around the property, and hired guns still drift in and out of the different rooms as I wander down to the kitchen. When I reach the counter, I’m greeted by a still-warm cappuccino, which is sitting on top of a note scrawled in Theo’s characteristic handwriting. It reads:
Kid—
I’m out following up on the guys who attacked you last night. Need to close the holes before they try again. Liam was there, so he’s coming with me to corroborate. We’ll be back by tonight. Don’t leave the house, as much as you might want to. Tristan will be here to look out for you.
Love you.
T
This is followedby a postscript in a different scrawl:
Woke up thinking about you, Vivi. Not sure I’ll be able to concentrate today. Maybe we’ll do it again tonight.
XO
Liam
P.S. The coffee was my idea.
A blush risesin my cheeks, but it’s accompanied by a burst of affection as I sip the coffee, allowing myself to bask in the afterglow for a moment. I don’t even hear the sound of footsteps until Tristan’s voice makes me jump.
I turn to see him standing in the kitchen doorway, his expression inscrutable as his blue eyes sweep over my tousled hair, down my rumpled pajamas, and back up to my face. “Nice night?” he asks, crossing his arms.
I swallow. “Yeah. Nice.”
