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“In time, I believe you’ll discover we’re stronger if we pool our resources,” Carina says. “Gideon is out there, plotting. And he’s not going away anytime soon.”
“When I make that discovery, you’ll be the first I call.”
Extending her hand to shake mine, she says, “I just hope that when you do, it’s not too late.”
“We’ll be fine.”
Her lips pull into a straight line, but she nods. “It was good to see you, Arran.”
“And you, Carina. Come back anytime.”
* * *
An hour after my meeting with Carina, and I’m already devising a new plan for where I can move my father. It may have angered me that she figured it out. But it also shook me. If she was able to, so can Gideon.
Father might not be happy to hear it. Or perhaps he won’t give a fuck. It’s possible he’ll sink further into his head, into whatever world he’s created there.
I’m peering at my laptop, searching for options, when a knock at my door gets my attention. “Yes?”
Devon, my assistant, enters. “Mr. Ritter is here to see you.”
I groan. “Tell him to make an appointment.”
“He did. It’s now.”
My jaw clenches. “I didn’t see his name on the calendar.”
“That’s because I just added it this morning,” he tells me. “I did ask you first, remember?”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I lean back in my chair. “Unfortunately. Does he look happy?”
“Unfortunately,” Devon echoes my reply.
“That means he has some stupid proposition to make me.” I let out a long, tired breath. “Let him—”
Before I can finish my sentence, Wes pushes past Devon, almost knocking the slender man down in the process. But Devon is able to catch himself on the door.
Glaring daggers at the much beefier Wes, he smooths his hair and straightens his suit as he leaves.
If Wes noticed Devon at all, he doesn’t show it. It’s not like him to be aware of anyone around him. “Arran, my man. How are you?” Leaning heavily on his black cane, he makes his way to the chair across from me and sits. He’s grinning like a fool as he reaches over the desk to shake my hand.
“What can I do for you?” I ask him, hoping he’ll get to the point.
If possible, his oily smile only grows wider. “What? You’re not going to ask me how I am? What I’ve been up to?”
“You only come around when you want something, so no. Just tell me what you need.”
His brows arch comically. “Fuck, you really are a son of a bitch, you know that?”
“Wesley, get to the point.”
“I’ve recently come into possession of something I believe will interest you.” He places his cane between his legs and rests both hands on the handle, a large gold ring glinting from his middle finger. My gaze goes to it immediately.
The ring, with anMand anHengraved on the top and a ruby set in the center of them, is a key to the Maxton Pierce Auction House. Only the most wealthy, powerful, connected, and corrupt have access to my black-market auctions. Art, antiques, stolen artifacts believed lost long ago. You can get that and more. For the right price.
Although Wesley Ritter isn’t among the wealthiest, he has connections to them, which makes him powerful. That’s why he’s wearing that ring, why I accepted to see him this morning, and why, when he says he has something that will interest me, I listen.
“What it is?” I ask.
