by Warren, Skye
GOLD MINE
Skye Warren
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Excerpt from Overture
Books by Skye Warren
About the Author
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
Adam
The mansion glows like a goddamn castle. Yellow light glows from every window, reflecting onto the moat that surrounds the modern fortress. I want dark shadows and bloodshed.
Instead I’m given glaring light and champagne.
I step carefully onto the rickety pile of wood they’re calling a boat for the crossing. A man dressed in old-world gondolier clothing stands at one end, wielding a long stick. “Hello, my fine friend,” he says in Italian. “How goes your night so far?”
Bullets flying would be preferable to this. Water. Not my favorite. “Bene.”
He steers us gently across the twenty-foot-wide space, not being especially fast about it. I suppose he’s hoping for a large tip at the end of my ride. “Do you look forward to the food? The drink? The beautiful women?” He laughs. “They are very beautiful tonight.”
“Yes,” I say, my voice grim. He’s correct about that, I’m sure.
There’s only one beautiful woman I’m concerned about.
We pass under a bridge made of stone. It would have been far easier to walk across it, but it’s closed for the evening. And I’m not playing the part of a person who would scale the wall. I’m not playing the part of a thief or a criminal. Instead I’m playing myself. Adam Black. A man born to an empty legacy. A hollow dream. Money and nothing else.
The boatman lingers only a few feet away from the landing dock, and I grit my teeth against the urge to make the jump. Adam Black wouldn’t do that. My true identity would recline for the ride, looking forward to the food and drink and women. And a few less legal vices.
“Is it your first time visiting the Castello del Esposito?” he asks.
I was here once as part of a raid for stolen artwork. And another time, I stole through the roof to break into their jewel safe. Two sides of the same coin.
In both cases I took what was not mine. Power. It’s addictive. And draining.
“Si,” I say, because Adam Black has never been here.
In a sea full of billionaires and crime lords, I hand over a tip that will be his best tip of the night. I need all the friends I can get for what I’m about to do. I leave him singing his thanks to me and enter the receiving line. I’m checked at the door. Not for weapons. Almost every man in the place will be armed. And many of the women, too. No, they want to see my passport. They could spot a fake a million miles away. It’s my real passport that I give them. Adam Black. American citizen. Well traveled, but never to places with war and famine.
They wave me through.
In the main ballroom the event has reached its pinnacle. Men and women swarm the parquet floor, fabric rushing, skin sweating. Laughter spirals to the gold-plated ceiling.
I scan the grinning, wild-eyed faces for one in particular.
And I find her. Almost.
She has the same curve of her cheek. The same turn of her shoulder. The same blonde and honey-colored hair, only a little lighter with artificial highlights. She’s not the woman I seek. That’s what I tell myself, anyway. That I didn’t come here for her.
She’s Holly’s sister, which means she’ll lead me to her.
London stands toward the back of the room, her lips pressed together in a sharp line. She’s worried, which means the game has already started.
A man approaches her, and I know immediately what he wants.
I stroll up quickly, my movements exaggerated. In this game I’m drunk and entitled. And powerful. I put my hands on her shoulders and bring her in for a kiss on each cheek. “Darling. I’ve missed you. It’s been too long since I’ve had your sweet company.”
She looks bewildered for a moment. The half-mask I’m wearing, I suppose.
Then her eyes widen. She tries to back away from me, because she thinks I’m the most dangerous man in the room. That might be true, but I won’t hurt her. Because it would make Holly sad. So I force her onto the dance floor, my grip uncompromising.
“Darling,” I say, warning in my voice as she stands there.
With stiff movements she puts her arms on me and allows me to lead. We move with the heavy, seething motion of the crowd, an almost frantic edge to the antiquated waltz.
“What are you doing here?” she says, her voice low and panicked.
“I’m here to protect you,” I say in a mocking tone.
She yanks her arm, but I don’t let go. “Get away from me. And my sister.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Now, is she already talking to that bastard Taggart? And where did he take her?” And why are you here alone? Why are you so goddamn breakable?
I could break you.
Worry bleeds into London’s pretty blue eyes. “He was dancing with her. I was watching them, and then suddenly, it happened so fast, they were gone.”
“Where did you last see her?”
She points to a corner of the dance floor. I know for a fact that the corridor entrance is right behind there, leading to dark antechambers for people to fuck or use drugs. Or in this case, conduct an illegal exchange of diamonds.
“Good. I’ll find her.”
“Please.” Her lips tremble, and if I were an ordinary man, I would find it delicious. It would be a pleasure to make her tremble for another reason. Instead I’m perverse. I want to bite her lips. I want to watch them bleed. I hurt anyone that I come near, which is why I’m determined to stay away. I’ve come just long enough to save her, to save her sister. To make amends.
And then I’ll leave Italy.
Her sister is in love with Elijah North. He can’t be far behind me.
And wherever Elijah goes, Lieutenant Colonel Mark Jefferson is not far behind.
“There’s one thing I need you to do for me. Dance with the men. The ones who look the most dangerous. Keep them interested. And stay at the center of the crowd.”
“What? Why?”
“Because that man wanted to take you somewhere dark.” And despite my very best intentions, I’ve become the reluctant defender of the Frank siblings. “Most likely he would have been given instructions not to harm you, but you can never be sure. And most men of his kind don’t consider a few stolen kisses to be harm.”
I should know. I used to be a man like that. Too late.
“Okay,” London says, her voice shaky. She really is gorgeous. The kind of delicate, wide-eyed beauty that will make men fall over themselves to dance with her. To save her from herself.
Unfortunately I’m only interested in ruining her.
I take a step back as the waltz ends and give her a small bow. “Addio.”
CHAPTER TWO
Holly
Five minutes earlier
Heavy foliage creates th
e illusion of a jungle.
Each leaf has been painted a matte or glossy black, with the rare pop of metallic gold. That’s the color theme for the event. The ballroom overflows with black silk and gold jewelry in every arrangement imaginable. There’s only the rare pop of white—a dress shirt, a string of pearls. Gleaming white teeth in a too-large smile.
Dread creeps over my skin, and I shake out my glittering skirts in a nervous gesture. The more boisterous the crowd becomes, the more I regret coming here.
It was not really a choice.
A waiter passes by with a gold serving plate full of champagne. I swipe a flute and drink down the bubbly liquid too fast. Air tickles my nose. I cough until my eyes tear up.
Something rustles the plants behind me, and I jump.
Is it them? Is it time? A couple emerges from black-painted leaves, stumbling over their own feet, laughing, the woman’s dress askew, the man’s bow tie undone.
They disappear into the crowd.
Pain lances my palm. I look down to see that I’ve crushed the champagne flute in my hand. The glass sliced through my skin. A thin line of red mars the austere color scheme of the event.
My sister appears with a white linen napkin. She swipes at my hand, her movements rough and uneven. “You need to relax,” London mutters, sounding shaky herself.
“We should go,” I whisper, trying and failing to keep my voice even.
“Go? We haven’t done what we came here to do.”
“We’re going to make an exchange of illegal goods at the most crowded place in the world? Why did we ever agree to this? This is a terrible idea.”
“Don’t go supersonic.”
“I’m not going supersonic.” Deep breath. “Okay. Okay. I’m serious though. What if they aren’t going to show up? Or what if this is a trap?”
“Set by who? The diamond police?”
A man appears at my side. The women here wear elaborate masks in every color and fabric that match their gowns. Mine is gold. London’s is silver. Meanwhile the men primarily wear black to match their tuxes. This is one of the rare exceptions. He wears one of those masks with long noses, the kind that remind me of the plague. Instead of being black and dreary, his is white and embroidered with gold thread. The joviality of the colors combined with the grimness of the shape sends a shiver down my spine.
“Hello to two beautiful ladies,” he says with a slight bow. “May I have this dance?”
“No, thank you,” I answer for both of us.
The man gives a slight smile, as if I’ve said something clever, a joke that we’re both in on. “Now I know with whom I must dance. It’s you, of course. The leader.”
My eyes narrow from behind my glittering mask. “No means no.”
“I think you want to dance with me. In fact, I think you came here expressly for this purpose.”
A slight gasp from beside me. My sister knows what I’ve suspected. This is the man who’s supposed to make contact with us. “Perhaps we can go somewhere more private?”
He makes a tsk sound. “And skip the foreplay? I think not.”
He holds out his arm, and I take it with great reluctance. It feels a little like taking the scaly arm of an alligator, one who’s already showing me his hundreds of teeth.
A waltz begins, and he sweeps me into a smooth arc. The man can dance, I’ll give him that much. He may be an international thug, one who threatens my sister, but he’s a skilled dancer. He leads me with such effortless skill, it almost feels like floating.
“Call me old-fashioned,” I say, “but shouldn’t we conduct illegal business somewhere where there aren’t a thousand other people?”
He glances down my body, to my cleavage. My skin crawls. “Oh, we will. Right now I’m having a good time imagining all the places you might have hidden the diamonds.”
“Maybe my sister has them.”
“No,” he says decisively. “It’s my business to know who has the power. It’s you.”
“It’s us,” I say, correcting him. “We have what you want.”
He grins, showing a gleaming white smile beneath the long nose of the mask. “I know, sweet thing. I do know that. That’s why I haven’t killed her yet.”
I stiffen in his arms, almost stumbling to a halt amid the whirl of other couples. “Don’t you touch her. Don’t you touch a hair on her head or I swear to God I’ll—”
“Calm down, calm down. I have no intention of hurting her. All I want is the money she owes me. You seem to be in some doubt as to my role here. I’m a businessman, first and foremost.”
“I know exactly what you are.” A loan shark.
“Good.” His hands tighten. “Then there won’t be any tricks tonight.”
“No tricks.” It will be a relief to give up the diamonds, actually. They’ve become heavier with every day that’s passed, gained a thousand pounds of emotional weight with every month. So heavy that dragging them around makes my muscles sore, even if it’s only in my head. Every day has taken us farther away from Elijah, and each day has broken something inside me.
He nods once, decisive. Ian Taggart has a reputation that even I’ve heard about in my insulated American experience. An international loan shark with dangerous tactics. More than one of his competitors have disappeared.
Without missing a beat, he sweeps us out of the flow of dancing couples.
Two men appear out of nowhere in plain black masks and large builds.
They surround me on either side, forming a human cage. I glance back, wild-eyed, for my sister, but there’s only a whirl of black and red and gold.
“Don’t worry,” the man says, reading my mind. “You’ll return to her shortly, once you and I have finished conducting our business.”
The way the words roll off his tongue, it sounds as if we’re going to meet for a private affair, rather than a cold, violent business deal. Then again, that’s probably what everyone thinks as I enter one of the antechambers. There’s not only one man with me. There’s three. What must people think of me? A slightly hysterical laugh bubbles up.
Then we’re alone, the sound of the waltz abruptly muted, and my laughter disappears.
Shadows reign in the lush antechamber. They patrol the perimeter of the room. They lean on the armchairs and tables. The man sits on an oversized sofa, one arm slung over the back, his legs spread. He whips off the plague mask, revealing handsome features and a cold expression.
He’s clearly the king in this scenario, and I’m his subject.
I lift my chin and take a step forward. “So, let’s do business.”
Another slow glance over my breasts, my waist, my hips. It makes me feel naked instead of encased in gold satin. “You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”
I lean down to pull something out of my petticoat. A small black velvet pouch holding a single diamond. I toss it to him. He catches it deftly and tips the gem onto his palm. “Seems real enough. Worth maybe ten thousand dollars. Not even close to the five hundred thousand your sister owes me.”
“I have the rest. Once I get your promise that she’s safe.”
“I’ve already told you I have no interest in hurting her.”
“And once I get your promise that you won’t loan her any more money.”
That earns me a dark laugh. “You drive a hard bargain.”
“Your word?”
“You understand that I could break my promise.”
“It’s possible.”
“And you understand that I could tear that pretty dress from your curves and retrieve the diamonds myself. I wouldn’t mind doing a full-body search.”
I struggle to hide my shiver. “That’s also possible. I’m hoping you behave honorably.”
“God. When’s the last time someone expected me to behave honorably?” He glances at one of his muscle-bound men in tuxes, as if they might have the answer, but they stand there stone-faced, still in their plain black masks. “Fine. You have my promise.”
“On both c
ounts.”
“On both counts. Though you should know that I’m not the only person she borrowed money from. Nor am I the most ruthless. Your sister has a slight drug problem.”
It’s my problem now. I won’t let her face this alone. She’s been doing well enough without the drugs—though in a sudden flash of insight, I realize she might be procuring them when she goes on walks. She needs a real rehab center, not a string of hostel beds.
That’s something to figure out later. The deal here is complete. Any other debts will have to wait for another day. I reach down to pull out the rest of the diamonds. I’m bent over, exposed, defenseless, when I hear the cock of a gun.
CHAPTER THREE
Holly
Adam faces the four of us with a pistol in his hand, no fear in his cold gray eyes. He looks taller than I remember him, stronger than I remember. “You’re under arrest.”
The two men on either side of Ian Taggart already have their weapons drawn. They point at Adam. Adam points at them. We have a standoff, and I’m right in the middle.
Ian Taggart speaks in rapid Italian. “Are you AISE?”
“Interpol.”
“He’s not really Interpol,” I say. “He’s corrupt.”
“You know him?” Ian’s eyes narrow on me. “You fucking brought him?”
“No! I swear! I had no idea he was even here.”
Ian stands, as calmly as if there were no fingers on triggers in the room. I wonder if I’ll ever have his casual self-possession in the face of imminent death. If I have any more dealings with Adam and Elijah, it just might happen. Either that or they’ll make me insane.
“I’ll take this as interest,” he says, holding up the small diamond to the low light. The light refracts in even the tiny surfaces, showering glitter across my gold dress. “And you can be assured I’ll be back to collect the full payment.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Adam asks.
“Back to the party. Unless you want her pretty dress splattered with blood.”
Then Ian strolls out of the room, the two men following, their guns trained on me until the last possible moment. I whip around to see Adam put his gun away, looking fierce, a warrior thwarted. “Hell,” he says. “How did you get mixed up with that thug?”
