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“Hey Selena, do you know if there are anymore women in charge? Perhaps we could pay someone a visit, you know, woman to woman, and remind them of the loyalty they swore.” I suggest.
“No darling, we are the only women who seem to have a say, but maybe one day we can end that.” She sighs, heavily.
I never realized how lonely it must be for her. I know she enjoys her solitude to some extent, but I am sure it must be hard not to have someone to come home to. For being wasted, Christian was making a lot of sense earlier when he said he comes home for me, and he fights for me. I realize I do the same. I would do anything for him, even if it means hurting him in the process. Finding the mole just became less about proving myself worthy of Arkham to my father, and more about protecting my man. Whether or not he wants my help. That filthy Frenchman and his dirty talking mouth are my reason for breathing. Without him, I would be nothing. No one will take him away from me. Not so long as I can fight for him.
We drive in silence until we pull up to the small consignment shop downtown. Selena eases into the alley and flashes the brake lights before shutting the headlights off and killing the engine. A car parks blocking the alley and Selena instructs me to climb off. We ditch the helmets on the bike and creep along the alley to the back entrance of the business. She points to where the light camera used to be. It’s smashed out. Something she had done earlier, judging from the glass on the ground. She picks the lock and uses a flashlight on her phone to find the alarm box.
“Here, hold this,” she says, handing me her phone as she pulls a pocket knife with cutters from her boot. She pulls the faceplate from the wall and clips the wire. It stops blinking. Selena puts the pocket knife back in her boot and motions for me to follow her to the office. She tries the door, which I find to be oddly unlocked. She doesn’t seem to be surprised, and she obviously scoped out the place or had someone on her team do it for her.
“Babe, we need to find a file. Check the filing cabinets. I will take the desk. Look for anything from this month or week. Something about a portrait. I need to know who the donor was.”
I nod, pulling open a drawer and thumbing through the labels. That drawer is useless. Everything in there is about taxes and employees, so I go to the next one. It has old auction information in it and donors from almost ten years ago. Maybe drawer number three will be the lucky drawer. I pull it open and begin searching, coming up empty-handed once more. I turn to tell Selena what’s going on, but she’s sitting in the chair clutching a piece of paper.
“Did you find it?” I hiss at her.
“Yeah, it says, donor unknown. It was just abandoned here in the overnight donations.” Her eyes are glistening with tears.
“Come on,” I reply, taking a step toward her and pulling her in for a hug. “Let’s find the painting and maybe we can find something on the security cameras. I am sure between the two of us, we can find someone to hack into the footage.”
She wipes her tears away, nodding. “I think the auction takes place upstairs. From what I understand. Since it’s happening tomorrow, things should be all set up.”
“Okay, let’s find the stairs.” I whisper.
Upstairs, we discover a locked door, but together we kick it in, deciding we want them to know we robbed them. They should have let Selena buy the item when she offered the reserve price. Now they won’t get a penny for it unless they have insurance. Judging from the files I looked through, insurance documents were not something I saw at all.
The room is set up with art on walls, and tables covered in silk table clothes. I am starting to wonder if the downstairs isn’t a front for something a bit more illegitimate.
“Selena,” I hiss. “Nab, the painting and let’s book it. I have a feeling about this, and it’s not good.”
“Trust me, I feel the same way. It’s over there. Help me grab it and get it downstairs.”
We cross the room together, grab the painting and book it back downstairs, into the alley, and to the waiting car. Selena leaves the back door open in hopes it will attract the wrong type of people to loot the store. I must admit, it seems like a fantastic cover up.
Chapter fifteen
Ihaven’tseenChristianall day until now. We rode in silence to the secluded restaurant above the city. He usually drives but he rode with me tonight, sipping champagne and eye fucking me the entire ride. The restaurant is breath taking. My mother never allowed us to step foot inside during my father’s visits. I knew they were under our protection, but I was always told it was not a place to flash your power and presence.
I secretly love when Christian gets in a flashy mood. There’s something absolutely irresistible about a man who will murder in cold blood, just because he’s having a bad day and you looked at him the wrong way. Although, he becomes slightly more unhinged when he gets flashy. It’s as if he’s shuts himself off to feeling.
The restaurant overlooks the city, carved into the side of the mountain. Only the most privileged and important dine here. It’s almost impossible to get a reservation, especially as last minute as just a few days, but then again, when you’re buying your protection from the mafia and they request a table, you make it happen. The view reminds me of the safe house, though I can’t be sure if that was intentional or not. In fact, I’m not even sure if tonight was a real date night or just a business move to show them who they belong to. If it is, I’m along for the ride and may as well enjoy myself. The coat check offers to take our jackets, but I hold up my hand, flashing my large emerald ring encircled in diamonds. The matching earrings dangle from my ear, dripping with status, and around my wrist the bracelet shows not a penny was spared on this set. It’s fucking god damn magnificent the way his eyes bulge out of his head. Christian snaps his fingers and two of our men appear. One of them steps beside Christian to wait while he helps me from my fur coat. I told him I needed an opportunity to wear it and swore one day it would finally happen. To my surprise, he didn’t protest tonight. I’m sure I have a part to play, and I will enjoy playing it perfectly. Christian hands the jacket to the man, then runs his hands down my shoulders. Kissing my neck. It makes the coat check attendant blush to see his display of affection. I close my eyes, leaning into him, daring him to take it further. He denies my challenge, stepping back and allowing the other man to remove his jacket.
“Ehem,” the coat check clears his throat nervously, “My apologies sir, but we do not allow weapons in the establishment.”
“Today is different. I have an arrangement with your people,” Christian smirks as he cracks his knuckles.
The man gulps. It’s obvious he’s noticed the hand tattoo. His eyes sweep Christian over a second time. “We don’t want any problems sir, let me get the owner down to take over.” He stammers, uncomfortably.
“Yes, please inform him we have arrived, and he’s not meeting the terms we agreed upon.” Christian’s voice is cool and collected as he returns the man’s blank stare.
He turns to cup my face, pulling me closer, no longer giving the man his attention. “My apologies, mon bijou,my jewel,it’s just a small misunderstanding. I promise we will get it all taken care of. I would never intentionally disappoint or embarrass you like this.“ His words are sweet and apologetic, but his motives are cut throat and ruthless.
Some guests are watching from their tables. Christian is making a scene without making a scene by acting like a perfect gentleman. It’s attracted the stares of many as we wait for the owner to arrive. The elevator dings and out he steps. He smiles at the coat check, then turns to address Christian.
“My apologies. It appears my associate here has forgotten himself. It’s no problem at all. Allow me to show you to the table personally,” he offers, waving us to follow him.
Christian sends the men a knowing look. He’s suspicious. One of them speaks into their ear piece and I’m certain they just alerted the other team about the suspicious behavior.
Christian offers me his arm and we walk deeper inside to speak to the maître’d The man behind the desk stares at Christian in disbelief. As we approach him, flanking the owner. One of Christian’s men clears his throat. The maître’d speaks, in a nervous squeaky tone, “We normally do not allow such outlandish requests, but I was told that for you we have made an exception. If the two men you would like stationed in the kitchen can follow me, then your server will show you to your table and allow your men to get positioned comfortably. We understand the unique security concerns and hope that you will take into consideration our cooperation. There’s also a no weapons policy, but so long as they are not visible, then we’ve agreed to make an exception for this, too.”
