Beneath These Lies (13 page)

“You want her back all in one piece, or are you not too particular about it?”

“That’s a ridiculous question,” I shot back.

“Then we do this my way.”

“Your way is taking too damn long.”

Dropping his arms, Rix backed me into the wall again. “My way is smarter than some snatch-and-grab that could end with her having holes in her body where there were none before.”

“I don’t believe you. I’m pretty sure you’re capable.”

“You’re right. I am. I could have had her home in hours that first night.”

My mouth dropped open, but no sound came out at first. “What?” I yelled, my tone edging into the territory of a screech. Both of my hands shot out and I shoved at his chest. It was completely solid, and Rix didn’t move. “Why? How could you just leave her there?”

Rix’s expression hardened further. “I’m trying to keep this from becoming a war. Innocent blood gets spilled when that shit gets unleashed, and it ain’t what we need right now.”

“A gang war?”

He gave me a short nod before continuing, and I wondered if he’d said more than he’d intended. “I can’t agree to their demands without losing power and position. So I’m working the angles. Takes a little more time, but I’m gonna get her back without looking weak or starting a fucking bloodbath.”

The reasoning made some sort of strange sense. But I still didn’t like it.

“Work faster. She has to be terrified. I don’t care what you have to do, but you need to get her out, and
quick
. God only knows what they’ve done to her.” My stomach, which had been tied into knots since Trinity had disappeared, twisted violently.

Rix laid a hand on either side of my face and tilted my head so I was staring directly into his unusual eyes. “You have my word that they haven’t touched her. They don’t want a war any more than I do. And I swear to you, I’ll get her back as soon as I can. But we’re doing it my way. This ain’t your world, duchess, so you’re not callin’ the shots here.”

What could I do, short of calling the police and forcing them to launch a full-scale recovery operation? Rhett would almost certainly believe me when I told him. Maybe. But I believed what Rix said, and I didn’t want to put Trinity at risk.

The cops were not a safe option.

Against all odds, the man in front of me continued to be my best choice.

“Okay, but please hurry.”

Rix’s expression softened a fraction. “You’re lucky I like you, duchess, otherwise those orders wouldn’t fly.” His gaze dropped to my lips. “Fuck. I gotta taste you again.”

I didn’t have time to think or protest before his lips landed on mine. This kiss was slower than the first, almost as if Rix was savoring it. Savoring me.

With a soft moan, I pushed up onto my toes and leaned into him, my arms rising of their own accord to loop around his neck. It was my turn to savor.

I had no idea how long we stood in my foyer, tasting each other with long, lazy strokes, before Rix pulled away again, this time stepping back and letting me go.

“I’m gonna collect sooner rather than later. That’s a promise.”

I
’M GONNA COLLECT SOONER RATHER
than later. That’s a promise.

Rix’s words haunted me, and I was caught between lying to myself and admitting what I really wanted. This fascination wasn’t healthy, and it absolutely wasn’t normal to hope that someone would break into your house and be waiting for you at night. And yet here I was fascinated and hoping.

Because I want updates about Trinity. That’s why
.
That’s it
. It was at least part of the truth.

Thankfully, today had been a constant stream of buying customers, which might have kept me busy, but didn’t stop me from thinking about Trinity constantly. I was failing at keeping her safe. Should I have gone to the cops? Would this all be a bad memory already?

I faced that decision head-on when Rhett walked in the door of Noble Art. He smiled and nodded at the older woman leaving with a small watercolor by a local artist.

“In the market for some art?” I asked, keeping my tone intentionally light.

“More in the market for the proprietor.” His gaze was direct and intense, just like his words.

I fumbled for a reply. “The proprietor appreciates your interest.”

“That’s a good thing because I’m taking her out tonight. Just wanted to make sure plans hadn’t changed.”

His green eyes were sharp, taking in my every expression. It would be so easy to open my mouth and spill everything.
But at what cost?

I’d lost the thread of conversation for a moment. “Nope, plans haven’t changed.”

“Good. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“I’ll be ready. Text me or call if something comes up.” I was assuming the cop life meant he had a schedule that he couldn’t always control.

Rhett nodded. “That means you have to give me your number.”

I blinked. I knew he had it already. “But you have it.”

Another slow nod and serious stare. “And I’m not going to use it to call you personally until you give it to me somewhere other than your case file.”

A shard of pain panged my heart at the reminder. There was no way to erase that part of our past. Rhett and I would always be connected by what had happened to me that night.

I forced a smile and turned to my desk to grab a pad of paper and pen. After I’d jotted down my number, I tore off the top sheet and handed it to him. We were starting a new chapter, and what had happened in the past was irrelevant.

“Here you go. Personally from me to you.”

Rhett looked down at the paper, and I wondered if he already had my number memorized before he slipped it into the breast pocket of his suit jacket.

“I’ll be sure to use it.”

I had nothing to add, so I just smiled. I wasn’t prepared for his next question.

“No employee today either? Did you fire her?”

My heart thudded against my chest.
Dammit.
The man was a detective, so it wasn’t surprising that he was curious, but I also was terrible at lying. This was my opportunity. My opening. I could tell him everything and ask for help.

Before I could open my mouth, the door opened again and two familiar and welcome faces strolled in. Yve and Lucas Titan.

“Detective Hennessy, you really are everywhere,” Lucas drawled. He extended his arm and the men shook hands.

“How are you, Titan? Mrs. Titan?”

Yve smiled as her eyebrow arched. “I still have a first name, Detective.”

“I recall. I’m glad to see you survived your belated bachelorette party.”

Lucas’s deep laugh filled my gallery. “I sure won’t be forgetting that night anytime soon.”

Yve shot a pointed look at her husband but the chuckle didn’t stop; Lucas’s wry smile only deepened. Rolling her eyes, Yve turned her attention back to me. “I suppose if I invite you to a girls’ night, you might have second thoughts this time.”

I considered for a beat before responding. The alternative was waiting around my empty house at night for an update on Trinity from the man who would break in.

“Not at all. I’m in. Just tell me when and where.”

Yve’s grin was quick and looked lovely on her. She’d been through so much more hell than I had, and I loved seeing her happy. “Good. I’ll text you the details. Now, I’m starving and this guy promised to feed me.”

“I promised to feed you
after
we picked out a piece to go above the fireplace. I’m making you spend money today, and you’re not going to get out of it by pretending to be hungry now.”

The grin morphed into a playful glare. “I’m not pretending. I’m always hungry.”

I interjected. “By all means, Lucas, please spend some money. I’m happy to take it off your hands.”

Yve’s smile came back. “I guess if I’m going to spend his money anywhere, it might as well be with friends.” She rubbed her hands together. “Okay, let’s do this.”

She strode toward the walls of artwork and began perusing them with an eye toward lightening Lucas’s wallet, which made me one happy gallery owner.

“You’ve got to have more than one fireplace, Lucas. I’m sure you need more than one piece.”

“That’s all up to her. It’s impossible to get her to buy anything for herself, so I have to resort to extreme measures.”

“I’m sure we don’t need to know what those are,” I replied.

“No, you really don’t,” Yve added from across the room, right before she gasped. “This one. This is the one. It’s beautiful.”

I walked toward where Yve was crouching by a painting leaning against the wall. My confusion mounted as her body blocked it. I didn’t lean pieces against the wall; they were all carefully displayed for maximum impact.

I racked my brain for what could have happened. Remy Burton, my other gallery employee, had returned from vacation and been working this morning, but he wasn’t careless either. I’d been so sidetracked I hadn’t even noticed.

Jeez, Valentina, get it together.

Yve stood and lifted the canvas, bringing it into view.

What. The. Hell.

I stutter-stepped in midstride.

That canvas wasn’t supposed to be here. It was supposed to be in my studio at home, behind another stack of canvases.

And there was only one explanation for how it had gotten here. I was going to kill him.

“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Yve whispered, holding the painting up for all of us to see.

A woman reclined on a divan with colorful swaths of silk covering her strategically. Her dark hair hung in long curls, mixing with the vivid colors. I’d painted it months ago and never looked at it again.

Lucas met Yve and paused. “It’s beautiful.” Turning his gaze to me, he said, “We’ll take it.”

“Wha—what?” I stammered.

His eyes narrowed on me before flicking down to the painting and back. “There’s no artist signature. Whose work is it?”

I cursed Rix silently for landing me in this situation. “The artist prefers to remain anonymous, so I can’t share that information.”

Glancing down at the canvas again, Lucas lifted it from Yve’s hands and turned it over. “No price either.”

I’d never considered selling my artwork, and therefore I had never thought to put a price on it. I fought the urge to wring my hands, and instead adopted my cool businesswoman mien and turned for my desk.

“Let me check my catalog. I’m afraid I haven’t committed that one to memory.”

“Do you have any other pieces by the same artist?” Lucas asked.

Shaking my head, I reached with trembling hands for the three-ring binder on my desk containing the details of all the pieces in my studio. “No. The artist provided only the one piece.”

“Well, ask the artist to provide more. The vivid colors and bold technique are exactly what I’d envisioned for the living room, and we’d love to see more.”

“It sure is impressive.”

This comment came from Hennessy, and I kicked myself for momentarily forgetting about his presence.

I flipped through the plastic sheets in my binder, my brain racing for something to say. They wanted to buy
my
art. Over everything else in my gallery. Stunned didn’t even begin to cover how I was feeling.

Think, brain, think.

I stopped on a page and stared down at the picture. It was a piece of art by a relatively new artist with little exposure and few sales. I was selling her pieces for substantially less than the others in my gallery, and reasoned therefore mine should be about the same.

I tossed out a price to Lucas and Yve, and all the heads in the gallery snapped in my direction.

“You’re underpricing that piece by several thousand dollars, in my opinion,” Lucas replied.

“That’s a steal,” Rhett agreed. “And I don’t know jack shit about art.”

“Well, that’s the price. So I guess you’re getting a bargain.”

With any other piece, my shrewd business instincts would be cringing because I was leaving money on the table. But for my own work? I couldn’t be objective. I wasn’t a real artist. My work wasn’t in this gallery for the very reason that it wasn’t the same caliber as what I normally sold.

Lucas came toward me, canvas in hand. “Then you’ll have to disagree when I say I’m paying you based on the perceived value and not your sticker price, which I think is ludicrous.”

“That’s not how you’re going to keep those billions, Titan.”

“Deal with it.” He handed the canvas to me and pulled out a money clip. Peeling off bills, he laid a stack on my desk. “Tell the artist we want to see more.”

Lucas lifted the canvas from my hands and waited for Yve to join him.

“Thank you so much! You made this way less painful than I thought it would be. Normally we end up arguing over every goddamned thing, but this we agreed on. Shocking.”

“Would you like me to wrap it up for you?” I asked, still stunned that Lucas and Yve had bought my painting.

“No need. It’ll go in the car where it can’t be damaged. Thank you again, Valentina. I’m sure we’ll be seeing you soon.”

And then they were gone, leaving the sound of the chime fading away and me alone with Rhett and a stack of cash on my desk. Part of me wanted Rhett to leave so I could count it and find out how much Lucas Titan had deemed as the perceived value. The other part wanted to beg him to stay and tell him everything.