Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
My lips curled, and I felt something like pride fill my chest. This woman…it was becoming clearer every moment that she was fucking amazing. And it only fueled my desire and resolve to have her in my bed.
“I don’t want to trample over anyone, but it’s a cutthroat business, right?”
I wasn’t sure if she was joking, but I almost laughed because she had no idea just how right she was.
“So bloodthirsty,” I teased. “A quality I quite admire in you.”
She giggled and shook her head. “It’s not like I’m going to bump off my competition.”
“Bump off?” I repeated, adopting a confused expression. Despite how well I spoke English, it was not my first language. And though I’d heard the phrase—I was in the fucking Mafia, after all—I thought it might be better to play dumb.
Kerrigan snickered and looked at me with a little less suspicion. “Sorry, I should have realized you might not know a slang phrase like that. It means to kill or murder someone. With a sort of Mafia-type ring to it.”
“Ah. I see,” I commented, amusement coloring my tone. “I believe the French Mafia might use the phrase buter quelqu’un instead.”
“Okay,” she laughed. “I’m not going to buter quelqu’un.” Then she raised her eyebrows questioningly. “Did I say it right? Or completely butcher it?”
I smirked. “Not bad, miette. With some private instruction, I believe you could sound just like a native.”
She blushed prettily, and I was sorely tempted to kiss her.
But the temptation was interrupted when the song ended. I knew I should let her go and check on Isaiah, but another song began to play. It was slow and sensual, so rather than releasing her, my arms tightened around Kerrigan.
“Tell me then, if you don’t intend to ‘bump someone off,’ how are you planning to climb to the top?” I briefly thought about interfering and lifting her there myself, but I instinctively knew that if she found out she hadn’t earned it, she’d likely be even angrier than if she found out who I really was.
I wasn’t going to test that theory on either end.
Although I was hell-bent on having Kerrigan, I had no intention of letting her anywhere near the darker parts of my life. Especially not the darkness that lived inside me.
But when she answered my question, she threw a fucking wrench into my plans.
“I have a theory about a forgery,” she admitted. “And if I’m the one to expose it, that could snag the attention of the higher-ups. Or even better, private curators. They’ll trust me to add to their collection because they’ll know I can spot a fake.”
“Not a bad plan, miette,” I mused carefully, lowering my head so that my lips brushed her temple when I spoke. “Is this suspected art piece being auctioned off tonight?”
Kerrigan sighed and melted into me a little more, resting her head on my chest. “Yes. It’s the Nativity with Saint Francis and Saint Lawrence. There is just something about the story that doesn’t add up.”
Putain de merde.
I stayed silent while she told me a little more about the painting and why she suspected it might be a forgery. There was no way that she would be able to know for certain, but if she cried foul, it might bring closer scrutiny that we did not want to deal with.
There was also the possibility that if she stuck her nose in places it didn’t belong, she might run into knowledge that could get her killed.
“That’s an awfully big risk to your career, miette,” I said softly, keeping my response casual. “I can tell that you’re bright and gifted when it comes to art, but even so, your experience is limited.”
Kerrigan sighed. “I know, but I think if I keep searching for answers and find the right people to help me, I could—”
“Why this painting, miette?” I interrupted, needing answers so I could figure out what to do next.
Kerrigan raised her head, looking up at me with a sheepish smile. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
“Je promets, petite miette.” I crossed my heart, making her chuckle.
“I just feel it in my bones. The story doesn’t add up. Why now? If the painting was worth hiding for over fifty years, why would the thieves part with it now? No one seems to be able to confirm the identity of the current owner. And if it involved the Sicilian Mafia, like the rumors say, why is it being auctioned in the States?”
“Whoa.” I moved one hand to cup her chin and smiled. “Slow down, Kerrigan. Breathe.”
She grinned and took a deep breath before shrugging. “Sorry, I can get passionate about things.”
“Hmm,” I hummed in a suggestive tone. “Your passion is one of the things that draws me to you, miette. I’m hoping it isn’t only art that brings out this fire.”
The hand resting on her lower back slid down a few centimeters, just enough to dip a few fingers under the fabric of her dress. A small gasp left her mouth, and I rubbed my lips lightly over her cheek while my digits brushed over the sensitive skin at the crack of her ass.