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I opened my mouth but then closed it, glancing at Kyle when I felt his desire that I let Aidan help. “How good is your persuasion with humans?”
“Very good given my age, but I don’t like doing it,” he hedged.
I told him the abbreviated version and he simply blinked at me. “I’m not telling you to have her kill someone. She’s already doing that. We just need her to finish it. Now.”
“You are never boring, darling,” he sighed and then nodded.
Even better.
Ten minutes later, we were sneaking into the compound. I used my power to have him call his lawyer and instruct him to revert the will all back to his wife. That he thought the mistress was doing something to him and he was going to the doctor the next day and blah, blah, blah. He signed some stuff and faxed it, sending emails, and even recording something on his phone so his kids were protected.
Except the mistress hadn’t actually done anything to make him change his mind. She’d convinced him that since he’d had kids with poor trash who could barely read, no one would ever take them seriously and his empire would fall apart. That bastards with someone higher class and from the right family was better.
Like her.
Duh.
Except she was connected, and he couldn’t control her as he wanted. So she was on the pill and jerking the guy around.
But he was still more than willing to betray his kids. He knew what would happen to them. I mean, there was no way around him basically signing their death warrants.
Then again, the guy had made his money selling countless children into slavery. He didn’t care.
The lawyer was glad that the guy had come to his senses and finally saw through the “slut’s” bullshit. Oh boy.
Right as I finished up, the mistress came in and gave him a drink with the rest of the poison to take him down.
I glamoured to be one of his security after I called the Spanish police—clean ones waiting for the call—and Aidan went for the dirty guy before he could take charge. Before anyone could figure out what was going on, EMS and the Spanish police were there to declare the guy dead, take away the mistress and her accomplice, and get the ball rolling on what we needed next.
They were going to handle the attorney part in a bit, the story being that she gave him the drink because she heard he was going to make the change, but he drank it after calling the lawyer. When that happened, people tried to take the wife and kids for control, but the only clean guard got them out and to Germany where a deal was made.
Done and done.
And we were going to round up all the bad guys who we couldn’t trust in Spain’s prisons because of the corruption. So that was a pickle.
Aidan asked if we had any problem with them simply disappearing and never being found again.
No, no, we didn’t, and I had a feeling some vampires wouldn’t need to feed from bags of blood anytime soon.
Such a shame with people who kidnapped and sold children to monsters. Really, I felt—I fucking loved it. Anyone with a soul would have wanted the same thing.
“Boss, I’m pretty sure I’m looking at something stolen,” one of our guys said in the earpieces we were all wearing. “Like I think this is a Monet.”
“Lovely,” I drawled. “Shit, we didn’t consider that. And our art expert isn’t available.”
Yeah, because Ally was being the Chancellor of Germany and was needed all week publicly. There was no way to get her out and handle this.
“That is absolutely a Monet,” Aidan confirmed when we were standing in front of the painting. “And it was stolen about a decade ago, thought to be lost. If there’s one, there are others.”
“I’m not trusting your council with this,” I muttered. “Nor the Spaniards. Fuck.” I pulled out my phone and swore again, connecting to Director Stevens.
“This is shocking given how we left things,” he answered.
“Yeah, well, there’s a bit of a side project going on and we hit a snag. Do you have someone in ISLE who is like an art expert and would know how to quietly return something we found? And not like abscond with it because our art person is tied up. I can give some good PR to ISLE if that’s what it takes to make it worth it.”
“Boss, we found crates more of art and some of the tags on them are of museums.”
“Of course, they fucking are. Tell me this asshole walked out of the Smithsonian’s storage or something and just really give me a fucking migraine.” I cussed up a storm when he confirmed there were a few of their items according to the crates. “I was being a smart-ass. You go in time-out. No more bad news from you.”
