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“No one messes with the Quinate.” I’m a little shaky on all their laws and rules, but I do know no one goes again the Quinate and lives. It’s why I didn’t want to work for Jac in the first place, a lifetime ago.
But these people think the jewels will get them in and maybe Jac and Hendrick out, but until that happens, I’m mostly safe.
More importantly, I need to do my part and make sure they’re aren’t being targeted anymore. Especially when I’m gone. I know they’re big and powerful men, but if I’m going to run, they need to be safe. Harry needs to be safe. And this handing over of the jewels will do the latter, help me with the former.
I’m only a jewel thief, I know, but I’m clever and slippery.
I can do this.
“Wait here,” I say to her.
“I should fucking come with you.”
“No.” I take her shoulders and stare into her eyes. I can’t risk her, too. “I do this, tie up all loose ends, and then we can go.”
Her gaze darkens. “Lena…”
I hug her.
“Love you, too, Harry. This is us. Against the world.”
And then I turn and head for the front door of the building.
The gun pointing at me when the door opens is sleek, deadly, but I don’t recognize the man holding it, so there’s that.
Even though the apartment building’s nothing to write home about, it’s clearly lived in. There’s mail on the floor of the foyer but no other furniture or carpeting. No welcoming glow.
“We’re fumigating,” Mr. Gun says. “Go away.”
“With a gun? I’m not sure that’s how fumigation works.”
His eyes narrow. “Which apartment?”
“I don’t live here. I’m visiting, but I don’t know his name. I’ve got a special delivery.”
He continues looking at me with deep suspicion. Then he pulls a phone from his pocket and frowns.
“You’re not on the list.”
Shit, I don’t know the name of who I’m trying to meet, and he didn’t ask for a name, so is that what the tracker was for?
“I don’t like wearing jewelry. I took the bracelet off.”
He frowns again. “Who—”
“I don’t know who summoned me. There’s a Kincaid. Lucas?” I take a breath. “Quinate.”
“You’re not Quinate.”
This guy’s either the world’s best bouncer in the wrong job or his dumb as a bag of bricks.
“No, I’m not,” I say as pleasantly. “I’m the Invisible Cat.”
He just stares at me.
For fuck’s sake, this is… “MG Rossi. Magdalena. I have the jewels.”
Halleluiah, a light goes on, and he steps back.
