The Prize

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The Prize Page 2

by Vanessa Fewings


  My fingers trailed over the chain of my necklace and the single emerald glinted its reflection in the window before me. That it had once belonged to Tobias’s mother brought some comfort and I allowed this moment of sentimentality.

  Until a jarring thought swept in, warning this may well be the ultimate trap I’d willingly walked into.

  Steadying my nerves, I stared out at the impressive architectural wonder of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I hoped I’d get to visit there while I was here. My thoughts drifted to Tobias telling me about his gallery opening in the Bronx. There was so much good we could continue to do. So much at stake. If I left anything behind from the devastation of my life perhaps it would be what we achieved tonight. The kind of access that would bring down an evil empire.

  My breath caught in my throat—panic-stricken to see the young man talking with Elliot Burell was his son, Eli. There he was arrogantly ruling the room as he surveyed the guests as harshly as his father with those piercing eyes, his haughty refined nose raised in judgment and that fop of dark hair brushing over his silver mask.

  Never had I felt more vulnerable; alone in a room with two monsters.

  When Eli’s gaze swept my way, I froze and took a sip of wine to further conceal my face, and then breathed out a slow sigh of relief when his glare slid away.

  I’d not doubted Tobias, until this moment.

  A stark chill caused my forearms to prickle.

  All I had to do was head toward the elevator and get in it and get the hell out of here, find my way to safety and a place where I could think straight and breathe in the autumn air that my constricted lungs needed. Still, the thought of leaving Tobias here sent a stab of guilt into my chest. I couldn’t do it. We were too connected. I had to trust him implicitly.

  Just breathe.

  Centering myself, I glanced at the window again and saw Elliot Burell alone and savoring his drink while people watching. Eli was no longer beside him. I scanned the room but couldn’t see him and was sure he hadn’t recognized me. Observing his father’s reflection, I saw Burell set down his empty glass on a side table and walk away. I spun round and headed in that direction and reached out for his tumbler. Another hand was ahead of mine and swept it away. I watched in dismay as the waiter made off with Burell’s fingerprints.

  Shit.

  Tobias gave my shoulder a nudge and I breathed out a shaky exhale to see him again, widening my eyes toward the tumbler that was being carried on a silver tray toward the kitchen. He arched an annoyed brow at the waiter and we followed after him.

  Tobias cut him off and said, “Excuse me. Will there be food?”

  “Yes, sir.” The waiter shifted his tray. “Hors d’oeuvres.”

  Tobias gave a nod of thanks as I darted my hand out to grab the glass.

  I cringed that the glass had been touched by Burell’s lips as I watched the waiter scurry off into the kitchen.

  “Well done.” Tobias sidled closer. “You okay?”

  “I saw Eli.”

  “Did he see you?”

  “I don’t think he recognized me.”

  “I shouldn’t have left you.”

  My gaze narrowed on him. “I don’t need protecting.”

  “I know.” He dipped his head in contradiction. “We have to make a small adjustment.”

  “Our exit?” I tried to read the answer from him.

  “The fire escape’s guarded. Our only way out is the way we came in. The main elevator.”

  “That’s doable, right?”

  “Let’s hope no one notices we only arrived ten minutes ago. Ready to finish this?” He led me around to a quieter corner.

  We weaved through the crowd of tuxedos and haute couture with both of us offering lazy smiles at the other guests who caught our attention. The people thinned out by the time we reached into what looked like a guest bedroom.

  Carefully, Tobias took Burell’s tumbler from me and carried it across the room and stepped behind the curtain. I discreetly glanced up at the ceiling to see if any cameras were trained on us and couldn’t see any. Wilder was taking an extra precaution in case we were being surveyed. I stepped toward the window and peered down at the sheer drop. It reminded me how unnervingly high we were.

  This was the proof I needed that Wilder was a master at his craft and I became riveted to the efficiency with which he used the thin piece of plastic tape he’d brought to slowly lift Burell’s prints.

  He tucked the strip into his trouser pocket. “Let’s get out of here.”

  We hurried out the doorway and he set the glass down on a passing silver tray that was hoisted above an unassuming waiter. The young man with a crew cut carried our specimen into the kitchen to be washed. Wilder interlocked his fingers with mine and led me into the sea of people toward the elevator. I drew strength from him and secretly savored being this close to such a charismatic man that the crowd parted at his sheer presence.

  I yanked on his arm when I saw our way was blocked. Eli Burell was standing before the lift doors and was casually vaping; puffs of air curled into nothing and he turned slowly to focus on us. My body stiffened at that stark memory of how Eli had a passion for hunting stag and how he liked to shoot them in the head.

  He’d already tried to kill us once.

  “Okay, then,” Tobias whispered under his breath. “This way.” He pulled me into the throng and we moved fast toward the back of the room.

  It was imperative to remain calm and not look any more suspicious then we already did as we rushed into an anteroom. A few guests were talking privately and several more were huddled in close proximity on a studded leather couch. They gave us a passing glance from behind their masks.

  Hanging on the far wall was a large painting by Carle van Loo of The Victory of Alexander over Porus, a dramatic battle scene where men and their horses had fallen victim and were overlooked by an arrogant conqueror riding his frisky white stallion. Tobias yanked my hand when I slowed to admire the portrait, which I pined to spend more time with. This was my world, the one I’d left behind and I wanted to return to my beloved art world desperately.

  Tobias gave a confident nod to a bouncer who granted us access into a glass elevator. When the doors closed on us I realized from the buttons on the panel the lift was only designed to ascend between this floor and the one above. I stared in horror at Tobias as the floating notes of a violin faded beneath us.

  The doors opened to a night chill that I hardly felt. There was a vibrant throng of partygoers on the roof and Tobias and I stepped out onto a blue carpet and scanned the scene of guests who’d mostly discarded their masks. They looked like a younger version of the hors d’oeuvres–eating, champagne-drinking crowd from downstairs and were caught in a rave beat, leaping in the air in time with the bass. A DJ was lending an arty flair to the chaotic scene.

  With my heart pounding, I pushed through the horde of dancers toward the entryway to the stairwell. I followed Tobias and the grip of his hand on mine verged on painful. The door burst open and an intimidating tuxedo-wearing guard appeared and spoke into a mouthpiece as he scanned the space.

  The music slowed to a sultry “At Last,” by Etta James, and the bouncing mass morphed into couples slow dancing. We sought refuge in the center of the throng with Tobias yanking me against his chest and twirling me in a circle. If he was panicked too, he was hiding it well, and his firm grip was the only sign we were under threat.

  “Well look at that.” Tobias seemed unafraid. “They’re playing our song.”

  “Lovely.”

  He turned us in a tight waltz. “This is nice.”

  I scrunched my fingers into the fabric of his jacket and peered over his shoulder to see where that guard was. The man was staring at us.

  “You okay?” Tobias looked so damn calm.

  “Not exactly. They won’t hurt us in front of all these peo
ple, will they?”

  “I’m here, Zara.”

  I hoped he had the wits to talk us out of this situation because right now the hounds of hell were circling.

  “It’s actually a great view.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “Eli looked angry.”

  “I owe you an apology.”

  I focused back on Tobias. “I insisted on coming with you.”

  “Didn’t mean that.”

  “You mean the first night I met you half-naked in The Otillie?”

  “I was half-dressed.” He smiled. “Cute of you to remember me that way though.”

  “What do you think Eli’s going to do?”

  “Let’s implement plan C.”

  No, there’d been no mention of what to do if we found ourselves stranded on a roof with sinister men surrounding us.

  He gave my shoulder a squeeze. “You never asked what I was apologizing for.”

  “This is not your fault.” I wanted to believe this.

  “Forever the optimist, Leighton.”

  From this angle, I caught Eli rushing out of the glass elevator and when he saw me he bullied his way to get to us.

  Tobias stepped back. “I’m apologizing for this—”

  A large blur appeared above my head and I strained my neck to see what it was, hearing excited yells from those around us who were seeing it too. An enormous drone was suspended directly above us.

  “Jade,” snapped Tobias, “down five feet.”

  “What the hell is that?” I ducked and shielded myself with my arm as it closed in.

  “Open the door,” he ordered.

  The dancers scattered backward to allow the pod’s descent toward us and the door flung open. Tobias spun me around, grabbed me, and hoisted me up into the floating aircraft and I grazed my knees on the way in as I scrambled forward on what felt like an unstable floor. Tobias gave my butt a shove and Etta’s vocals enhanced this crazy commotion as everything went into slow motion.

  I pulled myself up onto the seat and groaned at being trapped in this precarious floating glass bubble. The door closed behind me. “No, Jade, we have to get Tobias in.” The drag of gravity rocked me off balance and I fell backward and hit my head with a loud smack on the glass dome as the pod ascended. Stunned, I was unable to exhale from the shock of speed with which I rose.

  I slumped onto my knees, dazed and confused.

  When I righted myself, I gawped at the harrowing view of the towering rooftop below and its view of dancers growing more distant. Vertigo shook me and nausea welled as I peered out aghast at the drop. I was going to plummet to my death. I crawled into a ball, too terrified to move and not wanting to comprehend what was happening.

  This was worse than a damn elevator.

  Tobias?

  I braved to open my eyes and turned to stare out the back window—

  Terror surged through me and I sprang up and clawed at the glass when I saw Tobias on the roof fighting for his life with two men in tuxedos. One of them threw a fierce punch to his stomach and Tobias bent double in pain. Another blow came to his jaw knocking him backward and he struggled to stay on his feet.

  Eli was standing by watching the fray with a psychotic calmness. Tobias got away from the men but they quickly grabbed him again and the scrap continued as they yanked off his jacket. Tobias ripped at his own shirt like it was on fire.

  Another blow to his face knocked him to the floor.

  “Go back,” I screamed. “Jade, go back!” Dread caused me to freeze and I clutched my aching belly as I watched on unable to do anything.

  Drifting toward Central Park in this suffocating pod, I cupped my hand over my mouth when I saw Tobias clamber back onto his feet. He broke from their grip and sprinted toward the edge of the roof with them closing in behind him and he took a running jump onto the parapet and teetered peering down at the sheer drop.

  Trapped.

  He threw a quick glance toward my pod as though confirming it was carrying me away from danger—

  Wilder dived off the six-hundred-foot-high roof and plummeted out of view.

  When my constricted throat finally allowed air to pass, my scream echoed around me, and everything went black.

  CHAPTER TWO

  MY RAGGED BREATHS echoed within this upside-down drone that was hanging twenty feet in the air, caught in an enormous tree somewhere in Central Park. Shaking violently, I stared out at the branches holding me up. They were going to snap under the weight at some point and I was going to bloody well break something.

  If I did manage by some miracle to remain suspended up here, once morning shone a glint of sun off this glass drone it would attract attention.

  Oh, God... Tobias.

  That dreadful memory—

  As tears soaked my face I knew I’d never recover from this nightmare. I lied to myself by thinking I was shaking because of the cold and not because hell had unleashed around me.

  Wait.

  They’d find the fingerprints on Tobias if they looked closer at the strip of tape in his pocket and perhaps that might help point where the blame lay. Though the chance of Elliot Burell ever having had his fingerprints taken was unlikely. A sob burst from me as I tried to budge open the door with my shoulder.

  If Burell or his son thought this was over, they were wrong. Their final mistake was hurting Tobias, my beautiful, sweet Wilder. All he’d done was try to make right some of the cruelest acts in history. One day the world would hear his story and come to comprehend the profoundness of his achievements.

  A shudder of dread made me freeze when I squinted through the window and made out a sporty-looking motorcycle driving along the pathway toward me. It stopped directly before the tree line and a tall man wearing a silver helmet and black leathers extended the kickstand and looked in my direction.

  He made his way down the bank toward my tree. I held my breath as though such madness would make me invisible. Crooking his neck upward, he peered through his black visor and folded his arms across his chest as though contemplating how I’d gotten up here in the first place. And probably wondered what kind of contraption I was in.

  My heart raced as I considered what I was going to say. What did you say when caught in one of these? I had a vision of me running off and leaving my hell box behind me.

  He removed his helmet—

  I sucked in a deep breath and yelled, “You’re out of your fucking mind!”

  “I gave you one job, Leighton.”

  “I thought you were...” I couldn’t say it.

  “Clearly, I’m not.”

  I half hoped this pod would land on the bastard’s head; oh, the irony. “Get me out.”

  He arched a seductive brow. “If you promise to behave.”

  “Wilder!”

  “Jade,” he ordered. “Out of the tree.” He took a few steps back and arched an amused brow as he waved the drone down.

  Seriously? It was this easy?

  I knelt so not to hit my head again as the pod shuddered and then lifted away from the branches and ascended with a rocky start. It landed with a thump and I tipped forward as it settled, my palms splayed on the glass for balance.

  The door sprung open.

  I ducked my head and climbed out as gracefully as possible. My high heels sunk into the soil but I didn’t care about ruining these Louboutins. I was too focused on breathing in a deep sigh of relief. Tobias offered me his hand and I waved it off.

  “You have to admit that was fun.” He smirked.

  I leaped toward him and struck his chest with my fists, forcing him backward against a tree trunk, my heart soaring in confusion. I scrunched his hair to bring his mouth to mine, biting his bottom lip in anger and kissing him fiercely in retaliation, punishingly so, and he reciprocated by bringing a hand up to capture the back of my neck to hold m
e to him. His scratchy three-day beard brushed my cheeks and it felt annoyingly arousing and sparked a delicious throbbing between my thighs. My fingers released his hair and trailed down to his shoulders, and the erotic tension rose further with the sound of rippling leather and kissing and my gruff annoyance. I’d wanted to be this close again more than air itself, this connected, to be his again—

  I broke away and slapped him.

  On unsteady heels I wobbled and my back hit the tree behind me. He came at me fast and pinned me between the trunk and his rock-hard body, crushing his chest to mine as he continued to devour my mouth with an unmatched passion.

  I struggled to shove him away but he didn’t budge. “You were wearing a parachute?” And then I realized it was why he’d stopped me from touching his chest in the car. “I hate you.” I fisted my fingers to grab his hair and pulled him in for a kiss.

  He thrust his pelvis against mine, sending a pang of arousal into me. “Leighton, I told you we’re going to have to be smarter,” he said darkly, “faster, more inventive then we’ve ever been.”

  “You should have told me.”

  “I didn’t actually think I’d be parachuting off a high-rise tonight. I prefer elevators.” He tilted his head as though to say, Unlike you.

  “Can you imagine what it was like to watch you fall?”

  “Did you really believe I’d leave you like that? I waited until you were safely out of harm’s way. I made every concession to protect you.”

  “You’re reckless.”

  “You have a wild imagination, Zara.”

  “Have you not read Shakespeare? This kind of stuff goes bad fast.”

  “I can see why Romeo drank the poison.”

  I pointed to the drone. “I could have been trapped in that thing forever.”

  “If only we were that lucky.” He shrugged off his leather jacket, revealing a black polo sweater and jeans he now wore.

  His change of clothes and that motorbike meant he’d planned for this.

  Stepping forward, he wrapped his jacket around my shoulders. “Did you even think about talking to Jade? I returned your access.”

 

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