“And if there’s anyone getting old, you’re first. Unlike the rest of us, you’re already married with a kid. We’re still catching up.”
Lauren groaned. “Don’t say that. It’s worse because Mishca is already ready for a second. I’ll be lucky to graduate without him knocking me up.”
“But you have to admit. Sacha is too adorable not to have a sibling.”
“Don’t let Mish hear you say that. That’s been his argument since the day he gave me that smile of his and asked me to have his baby.” A sudden blush stained her cheeks as she cleared her throat. “But enough about that. What do you think of the dress?”
Looking back to her reflection, Amber shrugged. “It’s okay, but I wouldn’t say it’s my favorite.” And definitely not worth the price attached to it.
“This one?”
Lauren led the way back toward the front of the boutique where there was a selection of jewel-toned gowns, but there was another that she was focused on, this one sitting on a mannequin in the window.
The top half was made mostly of lace, sheerer around the arms, across the collarbone, and along the waistline. The skirt was full, so long that it would brush the floor, even if she was standing.
And it was blue. Such a brilliant sapphire shade that it was amazing she had missed it when they first came in.
It was a beautiful dress, that couldn’t be denied, but it was different than what she had been thinking.
“You don’t think this one is a bit … dramatic for an auction?”
“Mish once took me to an auction and they were dressed like it was the red carpet, so no, it looks fine. And while it might not be the same kind of auction, the people spending money are.” Lauren smiled wide. “So try it on and see if it works.”
It only took one glance in the mirror for her to decide that she was in love with it and couldn’t possibly say no. Bought and bagged, Amber carried it back to Lauren’s car, laying it out along the back seat.
The shopping done, they found a restaurant to eat at, Mishca’s guy remained in the background and out of sight. Though she had wondered what it would be like for him to trail them all day, she couldn’t actually remember seeing him until they were getting in the car and saw him through the rearview mirror.
By the time she got home and had the dress stashed away, she was pulling out her phone to call Kyrnon.
“Are you coming over later?”
Setting his mobile on the passenger seat as he reached for his gloves, Kyrnon kept his gaze set on the gallery a block down the street. As much as he would have loved to already be with her, he still had a job to do. And as of late, he had absolute shite.
During the times he picked her up and dropped her off, he still hadn’t seen anything that could remotely link him to the painting, or even just the relationship between Elliot and Gabriel. Even when he went inside there once under the guise of visiting her, he still hadn’t found anything.
It wasn’t until he noticed a reoccurring theme with her that he finally understood what he was missing. Before she went into work, and as she was getting off, she would always send a text. So while she slept beside him one night, he checked her messages and found the number, which ultimately led him to a shipping company that Kyrnon knew Gabriel owned.
That was why he was here tonight, to figure out why she would need to contact someone about a painting she was working on.
And more curious, she never talked to him about it.
It was one of the things he liked about her, her willingness to share herself with him. She was open and honest, almost to a fault. Kyrnon was suspicious by nature, so he couldn’t ignore that she was hiding something from him.
“I’ll be there,” Kyrnon said as he carefully opened the car door. “And I’ll even bring dinner. See you soon.”
He could hear the smile in her voice as she hung up. Pocketing the device, he started for Cedar, checking the time on his watch as he went.
Rule number sixteen: Get in and get out in under six minutes.
It didn’t matter if he was only doing recon, or if he was actually taking something from the place he was breaking into, he needed to be sure it could be done in a short period of time. Most days, he tried to keep that time even shorter, especially if there was a better security system.
It would only take one time to fuck up and he’d be spending some time in a federal prison, at least if they caught him first.
And that was if The Kingmaker even let it get that far. There had only been a few in all the years Kyrnon had served as a mercenary for the Den that had been caught.
They didn’t see the next sunrise.
Circling the back of the building, knowing there was another entrance that wasn’t as visible as the one on the street, he turned the dial on his watch, set his timer, and set it off before he was crouching down to pick the lock.
Five minutes, thirty seconds …
The lock was easy enough, and since he had seen Amber enter it enough, he keyed in the security code, watching the lights flash green before he had the door open and shut behind him, and was moving down the hallway.
Though there was no one meant to be inside, Kyrnon still moved cautiously, knowing that the best planning in the world couldn’t account for human error.
It only took one person deciding to stay later, or coming back for a cell phone that would mess up his plan.
Five minutes …
He knew whatever Amber worked on wouldn’t be out in the main gallery, and he had already checked for L’amant Flétrie and found no evidence of it ever having been out there.
But there was one room he had seen her emerge from that was off the back hallway—storage, he had thought it was. Before he started for it, however, he made a duplicate of the camera feed.
Despite the security measures in place, the room was fairly easy to get into. It was storage considering the crates inside the room, plus the supplies, but it was the pair of easels on the other side of the room that caught his attention.
L’amant Flétrie.
And a copy.
Fucking hell.
Had she been the one to do this? If so, she was good. Had he not studied everything he could on the original, he might not have noticed the slight differences between the two, but to the undiscerning eye, they were identical.
But that only raised another question?
Why was she making a forgery?
At least he understood why she had never mentioned it to him. Forgeries were bad business. And he doubted she was doing this on her own. Elliot probably put the deal together.
And that was how Gabriel and Elliot were connected, Kyrnon realized.
Gabriel had the painting, used Elliot to find someone to reproduce it … but that still didn’t explain why it needed to be done in the first place. If they were trying to fence it, why have another made?
Kyrnon was contemplating his next move when doors slammed shut down the hall. With no time to get out of there, he slipped around the side of a crate, still keeping a visual on the door.
Two men entered, one rolling in a dolly, the other checking their surroundings. They didn’t speak much as they made quick work of loading up both paintings, treating them quite carefully as they wheeled them out.
Keeping his steps light, Kyrnon followed behind, checking his watch as he went.
One minute …
“Where to this time?” one asked as he climbed into the passenger’s seat of the large moving truck.
“Monte’s place. They’re supposed to be getting rid of this thing soon.”
It wasn’t much later that they were pulling off, disappearing down the street. Slipping back out the way he came, Kyrnon was on his phone before he was even back at his car.
“Winter, I need a favor.”
Winter was chewing gum loudly, then asked, “What can I do for you, little Irish?”
If she didn’t stop calling him that … “Gabriel Monte. Run the name, get me everything you can. Make sure y
ou find any property he owns.”
“Domestic or foreign?”
“Domestic. New York specifically.” He had already gone through enough trouble bringing it in under The Kingmaker’s nose, he wasn’t going to stray too far now.
“I’ll send you my bill. Ciao.”
Kyrnon didn’t doubt that by the time he got back to Amber’s, she would have everything he needed, and he needed the answer to that quick. On his way to Amber’s apartment, he stopped by a local place to grab take-out. Thirty minutes later, he was there.
Feeling around the top of the doorframe, he grabbed the key she kept hidden there, letting himself into her place. “You need to find a better spot for this, lovie.”
“Is there anything else you’re going to complain about?” she called from where she was sitting on the fire escape, a sketchbook in her lap. “First it was my windows, then it was the deadbolt, and now my spare key. I can’t win with you.”
“It’s not safe,” he said dropping the food on the counter, spotting the envelope and check sitting there. He didn’t pick it up, rather only kept his gaze on it as he pulled containers from the bag.
“It’s perfectly safe, and besides,” she continued, padding over to him. “You’re here at the moment and I’m plenty safe with you.”
That made his ego kick up a notch. “Fair enough.” Glancing back at the check, Kyrnon asked, “How was work?”
Her eyes lit up as she smiled, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “I finished this big project today. Which reminds me. I was invited to this auction and I thought maybe you could come with me.”
So Gabriel was auctioning off the painting? That wasn’t surprising. A lot of his contacts were known to attend private auctions in hopes of obtaining a rare piece, but they rarely invited outsiders … at least not ones they didn’t think they could trust.
Did they think they could trust Amber?
Just how involved was she?
And how in the hell hadn’t he seen it?
“What kind of project?” he asked, walking her back to the couch, pulling her down on his lap.
Though she stayed put, she didn’t look as at ease as she usually did. “I can’t really talk about it.”
“Now you’ve got my interest.” Grabbing her hand, he kissed her palm. “Your secrets are safe with me.”
“I signed an NDA.”
For fuck’s sake. “Why?”
The question came out sharper than he intended, and he could feel the shift in her, the way she tensed against him as she readied to push away, but he kept his hands at her waist, making sure she wouldn’t get anywhere.
“Unless you’re moving artwork on the black market,” Kyrnon said, trying to soften his words, “what in the hell do you need a nondisclosure agreement for?”
Glancing away, she bit her lip. “I can’t talk about it.”
“What’d be the harm in telling me, eh?”
Patience had never been his strong suit, particularly when it came to information he needed, but he didn’t want to push too hard too fast and make her suspicious as to why he was asking.
“Fine, but you can’t say anything, to anyone.”
He crossed his heart. “Scout’s honor.”
“I was contracted to make a reproduction of this painting—the L’amant Flétrie.”
“Aye, I’ve heard of it.” More than she knew.
“I’m not sure what all the secrecy is about, but I had to sign the NDA before I could start. The man who hired me said they wanted to have it, just in case someone tried to steal the original.”
Someone very much like him, Kyrnon thought as she explained. It was smart, he had to admit, especially given the amount of detail and the level of skill used.
“I made a slight change to the canvas though,” she continued. “I added my signature at the bottom so just in case …”
She wouldn’t be held liable should it ever be sold as the original.
Smart.
“He’s putting it up for auction in a few days.”
Which would explain the invitations she had, and the fact that she had been allowed to attend in the first place. The nondisclosure agreement was enough to ensure that she wouldn’t talk to anyone about it, and if Gabriel moved it within the next few days, it would be gone with no one the wiser.
But, it also gave him time.
Now, he at least knew where the painting would be, and because of the replica she’d made, he would be able to take it without anyone realizing it was gone, at least for a time. That was the easy part though, it was trying to move it while with Amber that would be the hard part.
Not only would he have to find enough time to slip away, he would also have to make sure he kept track of her because once it was time to leave, they had to get out.
But despite the obstacles he would face, Kyrnon smiled and said, “Should be fun.”
After an hour and a half of getting ready, Amber was finally dressed, her clutch and heels in hand as she headed downstairs where Kyrnon was waiting. Despite the short timing, he was attending with her. If anything, he seemed more interested in going than she’d expected.
And waiting for her at the entrance to her building was Kyrnon, in all his tall, bearded glory.
He didn’t look nearly as rugged as he usually did. He was all cleaned up, and had even gone as far as trimming his beard. She had to blink twice to make sure he was the same person. His vest and trousers were navy, a crisp white shirt beneath with a solid black tie that was held in place by a silver clip. For the first time since she met him, his hair was also styled, gelled back into place. The navy suit even managed to make the auburn tones of his beard stand out more.
There was just something about a man in a three-piece suit.
“I have to say,” Amber said as she looked him over. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
He smiled, touching a hand to his chest right over his heart as his gaze swept over her. “You take my breath away.”
She gave a little spin, showing him the open back. “Do you like?”
“I like it enough,” he said with a kiss to both her cheeks. “But it’ll be better on my floor later.”
“If you’re lucky.”
With a gruff laugh, he urged her to the car he’d been standing in front of. And it was … well it was amazing.
Amber might not have known just how much money he possessed, but the sight of his car was just another reminder that he had to have a lot of it. A Ferrari, she believed it was, from the logo near the door, but it didn’t look like any she had ever seen before.
“You said acquisitions, right?” she asked as he helped her into the passenger seat, the leather incredibly soft beneath her. “I didn’t know that paid so well.”
He was gone a moment as he came around the front of the car, then was in the seat next to her and pressed the start button for the car. Laying a hand on her thigh, the heat of his palm almost a little too hot, he pulled off.
“Aye, I did, and it does.” With his sunglasses in place, she couldn’t accurately read his expression. “Besides, the work I acquire is worth a hell of a lot more than what I get paid for it. People are willing to pay any price when it means something to them.”
“Really?” She didn’t doubt that, but she was curious about what he did.
He nodded, weaving effortlessly through traffic. “I was once tasked with tracking down this wee statue from the eighteenth century, ghastly little shite really, but the owner was willing to pay three-quarters of a million for me to return it to him.”
“Wow.” That number kind of boggled her mind, but then again, hadn’t she been paid twenty thousand just to paint a replica? “It must have been worth a fortune.”
“It was, but I ken it had more sentimental value than anything,” Kyrnon said glancing over at her.
“Do you have anything you would pay that much for?” she asked, shifting so she was facing him.
Keeping one hand on the wheel, he pulled his glasses
off, dropping them in the cup holder. “A cabin.”
She was intrigued. “A cabin? Where?”
“Near the Irish sea. Just grass and rocks and water.”
His voice had changed, dropping an octave. This meant more to him than just the money he would spend, it was something else.
“You miss Ireland,” she guessed, “and your family.”
“Both. It’s been awhile since I’ve been back.” His smile turned rueful. “I’ll take you out there, see how you like the water then. Cold enough to freeze a man’s bullocks.”
“I would love that.”
“And you?”
She thought on her answer a moment before saying. “Silver Car Crash.”
“By?”
“Andy Warhol.”
Kyrnon nodded. “Fair enough. He does good work.”
Amber loved his work, and that painting was definitely her favorite. “So yeah, if I had endless amounts of money, I would buy one of his works.” She sighed. “But sadly, I’m not that rich, and even if I were, there’s not many of his works left that aren’t in galleries or lost.”
“I’ll look for it.”
Amber’s brows drew together. “What, the Warhol painting?”
“Aye.”
“It was sold in a private auction a few years ago. No one even knows the name of the buyer.”
Kyrnon shrugged like that didn’t matter at all. “I’ll find it.” This time he sounded more sure.
The rest of the ride was spent in a comfortable silence. Thirty minutes later, they had finally arrived.
The Tuscan-inspired estate they pulled into was extravagant. Unlike the concrete jungle of the city, the mansion felt more like it belonged in the hills of Italy as opposed to its current neighborhood.
As they rolled up to the gate, a man wearing a dark suit with a wire in his ear held his hand up, stepped around to Kyrnon’s window. Letting it down, he presented their invitations. It only took a moment for him to check it before he was nodding and signaling for someone to open the gate.
Den of Mercenaries: Volume One (The Mercenaries Book 1) Page 37
