Something Green

by London Miller

  The design of the space was a bit … eclectic. On one side were rows of tulip-filled vases with tea lights intersecting them, and then on the wall opposite, a hanging projector displayed a black screen.

  Now, she was even more curious about the story behind this.

  Kyrnon grabbed two flutes of champagne, handing one to her as he led her through the space until they reached a room filled with chairs facing a stage.

  “Is there going to be an auction?” she asked, wondering if that was why he’d been so secretive about tonight.

  She also remembered the last time she’d gone to an auction with him ...

  “Probably,” was his answer, and she had a feeling he knew exactly where her mind had gone.

  “This isn’t a work thing, is it?” she asked.

  The last time, she hadn’t known he was an art thief, or that she had unknowingly aided him in finding the painting he needed to steal.

  He reached up and smoothed down his beard, that mischievous glint entering his eyes. “Define work thing.”

  “Kyrnon.”

  “You always said you wanted to see how I do it.”

  He wasn’t serious ...

  But as he set his untouched glass aside, she wasn’t so sure.

  “I didn’t think you’d actually let me.” Only he would actually take it seriously and find a way to pull it off. “And you said hell would freeze over first.”

  Because he didn’t want anything to happen to her, he’d always said. Which was fair enough, considering she didn’t have nearly the amount of training he did when it came to this sort of thing.

  “It’ll be fun,” he reassured her, not even remotely moved by her hesitation.

  He was …

  He was actually serious.

  “If I’d known,” she whispered as he came closer, “I would have worn different shoes.”

  Instead of the near six-inch heels she was currently standing in. If he thought she was going to be able to run in these … he severely overestimated her.

  “I’ll walk you through it,” he said, staring down at her. “It’ll be grand. Now what’ve I said was the first rule?”

  She didn’t think it was good at all that her heart rate was kicking up—that she wasn’t walking out before she did something illegal. “The first rule is don’t get caught.”

  He opened his mouth, before shrugging. “Fair enough. Let’s go with rule three then.”

  “Know your surroundings,” she said without having to think about it.

  While she might not have known what he did when he ventured into places like this and walked back out with something valuable, he had told her about it and the many rules he implemented when working.

  His smile was the very best part of him. “Let’s see what you can do then.”

  Reflexively, she gulped down a bit of champagne before rethinking it, setting her own glass aside as he had. “What do you need me to do?”

  It amazed her how quickly the room seemed to change now that she knew they were about to rob it. She was no longer focused on the art but rather on the multitude of exits and how many people they would have to go through to get out.

  Unless there was a back entrance …

  It might have come with time, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out how he could possibly be so calm with so many variables.

  She liked to think she had seen all sides of him—the lover who shared her bed. The mercenary who was willing to beat a man half to death if it meant getting the information he needed out of him.

  But this version—the one in a clean suit—was certainly different from the others.

  Not to mention, she had no idea what the security for the actual art would be like? She doubted there would be any lasers and sophisticated security like in the Prague gallery, but surely, there had to be cameras somewhere.

  Maybe even a security guard somewhere currently monitoring the feeds.

  “Relax.” His hand was gentle against the small of her back. “We’re making good time.”

  “Do we need codenames?” she asked, watching as he removed a tiny earpiece from his pocket and handed it to her.

  “It’s cute that you’re nervous.”

  He didn’t understand the half of it.

  Once she had the earpiece in, he stepped away from her, just far enough so that when he spoke, she could only hear him in her ear.

  “Wait,” she said, looking after him. “We’re not splitting up, are we?”

  He nodded. “We’ll work faster that way.”

  “But what if I mess something up?”

  He shook his head. “You couldn’t. I’m going to walk you through it.”

  He had such faith.

  She hoped she didn’t let him down.

  “First thing I need you to do is get into that room with the black door without being seen.”

  Taking one last calming breath, she turned and spotted the door he meant that was just off the side of the table with the flowers. The majority of the guests weren’t paying attention to that side of the room, and the few waitstaff she saw were too busy seeing to the array of food and drinks.

  It was now or never.

  Trying to appear as calm as possible, she crossed the room, keeping her steps measured, forcing herself not to stare down at her feet.

  Normal.

  She needed to appear normal.

  Glancing once over her shoulder just as she reached the door, she made sure no one was watching before she quickly twisted the handle and darted inside the moment she was able to squeeze through.

  She hesitated there a few seconds before she was finally able to catch her breath when no one came in after her.

  “Are you in?” he asked, the room quiet now.

  “Yep, I’m in.”

  “Good. Second door to your left then—there should be a key tucked inside a pot there on the right.”

  Even as she did what she was told, she wondered who Kyrnon had to pay off to get a key put aside for him.

  Just where he’d said, she found the small brass key and unlocked the next door, slipping through it next.

  This room was colder than the other, and three times as dark—the blackness only seeming more opaque from the backlit podium sitting in the middle of the floor.

  She couldn’t make out what sat on top of it from where she stood, but a part of her had been expecting something ... grander? Something big and ostentatious and easily recognizable.

  Instead, she realized as she finally crossed the room, she didn’t find anything other than a white envelope.

  “I don’t think what you’re looking for is here,” she said as she stared down at it from a safe enough distance in case there was some sort of alarm she couldn’t see.

  “How do you mean?”

  “It’s just an envelope,” she said, sounding every bit as confused as she felt.

  “What’s it say?”

  “But what about—”

  “I’ve disabled them,” he said quickly, though he didn’t say what exactly he had turned off.

  She plucked the envelope from the stand, sliding the card out from within it, finding it blank before she turned it over.

  “Fifteen seconds. Twenty seconds. Thirty-two seconds. Ten seconds.” If there was ever a more confusing note … “I don’t get it. What’s this mean?”

  “Makes plenty of sense to me.”

  “What’s fifteen seconds then?”

  “The amount of time it would take you to get that open.”

  She no longer heard his voice in her ear, but directly behind her.

  She whirled around, startled by his sudden presence, but that surprise slowly turned to something else when she saw he was down on one knee.

  “What are you—?”

  “Twenty seconds for you to read the note,” he tacked on, his eyes bright.

  Feverish, maybe. Nervous.

  But she couldn’t bring herself to think about anything other than the fact that he was down on on
e knee.

  “Thirty-two seconds for you to try to wrap your pretty little head around it—tack on a few seconds for you to turn around.”

  This, she was quickly beginning to realize, wasn’t a heist at all.

  “And ten seconds?” she asked, not even a little embarrassed by the way her voice cracked at the end.

  He hadn’t even asked yet, and she was already turning into a mess.

  “I love you,” he said after a moment as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And I don’t spend nearly enough time telling you that, but if you’ll have me, I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much I do.”

  Amber stared down at him—at the earnestness in his expression—but even as her focus was taken up by every inch of him, she didn’t notice the ring box in his hand until he flipped it open, revealing the ring nestled in the very center with a diamond that was bigger than any she had ever seen in person.

  “You asked what ten seconds means … I’m hoping it’s how long it takes for you say yes.” He cleared his throat, turning those imploring green eyes on her. “Amber Lacy, would you do me the honor of—”

  “Yes.”

  The question didn’t even need to be asked.

  She had gone twenty-eight years without him in her life, and she didn’t want to go another day.

  Kyrnon exhaled as if he’d been holding his breath—as if she could have possibly said anything other than yes. But she could almost see the moment her answer settled in.

  He removed the ring from the box before he picked up her hand and slid it onto her finger. It was more than she could have ever hoped for.

  She pulled him up to his feet and kissed him with everything she was worth. She didn’t know what she had done to get so lucky in finding a man like him—but she was very glad for whatever she had done.

  He was everything she hadn’t known to ask for.

  Kyrnon pulled away far too quickly, resting his forehead against hers for a moment. “One more thing.”

  “Really?”

  Before she could question him further, he took her hand and led her out of the room—while also revealing that everything about how she had gotten into this room was by his own design.

  She almost suspected they were leaving until she heard the applause.

  Now, it made sense why there had been a projector—it provided a view of the room they’d been in. It gave everyone in the room a view of the proposal.

  And at some point, while she’d been unaware, their friends and family had slipped into the room.

  Mishca and Lauren stood in the very center of the room with baby Sacha on Mishca’s hip who looked adorably happy as he clapped along with everyone else, though she was sure he probably had no idea why everyone was cheering.

  Alex and Luka stood to their right with Niklaus and Reagan to their left, along with the other mercenaries she had met over the years. There was the waitstaff—who now that she thought about it, probably worked with Kyrnon in some capacity, but standing off to the other end with tears in her eyes was—

  “Mom?”

  She looked as if she were seconds from having an epic meltdown, but her father was there to console her, though Amber was a little sure he looked a bit misty eyed too. Even her brother had come along for the trip and was currently stuffing his face full of food.

  “You planned all this?” she asked, looking up at him.

  He shrugged as if it were no big deal at all. “It’s what you deserve.”

  She didn’t deserve him.

  Not even a little, but she was sure glad she’d get to keep him.

  4

  Two months later …

  Today was not a day for murder.

  Not when he had more important shite to concern himself with, but it didn’t change the fact that today was supposed to be the day.

  The day.

  His bag was packed and waiting for him at the loft. His flight was booked, and the only thing he needed to do now was get his arse to the airport where Amber was waiting for him.

  “It’ll be quick,” he’d promised when he’d kissed her goodbye, trying not to think about the flash of disappointment he’d seen on her face.

  But years of “I’ll be back before you know it,” had her biting her lip. “We can always re—“

  “I’ll hear none of it. Our flight is at four, and I’ll be there at three, eh? You just ... wait for me. Can you do that for me?”

  He could tell she didn’t want to doubt that—that she wanted to believe in everything he was saying—but it was there, and the very sight of it ate at him.

  Fueled his fucking rage as he rode toward the Den compound.

  It wasn’t often that he regretted the contract he’d signed. Without it, he would never have met Amber or acquired the wealth he had, but moments like this, he couldn’t at all see the benefits in extending it.

  He wasn’t the same man he used to be—fueled by the desire to hurt those who’d forced him to fight as a lad and stole him from the only life he’d known.

  While he’d always be a thief, the mercenary life was weighing on him.

  And that thought only solidified further when the Kingmaker had rung his line in the middle of the bloody night to tell him to come to the compound for an emergency meet.

  Everything was a fucking emergency for that bastard. And with the mood he was in now, he was partially inclined to let him and whoever the woman he was currently going head to head with battle it out, and he walk away from it all.

  Parking his bike, Kyrnon tugged off his helmet and left it on the handlebars before he headed inside, yanking off his gloves as he went.

  Red’s Impala was already parked in the lot, as well as a slew of other vehicles that told him the others had already arrived.

  With a bit of persuasion, he was sure he could talk Red into doing a job with him. His mate had already grown tired of the life they led, more than ready to stay local so he could be with his family.

  But the problem with men like the Kingmaker is they refused to fucking die.

  Enough men had tried already.

  Kyrnon was still contemplating the logistics of a job of that nature as he entered the building and walked down the long hallway, but before he could reach the conference room they always used, he spotted Syn coming from the opposite direction with a woman he hadn’t seen before.

  Though if he had to guess, she was the one he’d heard so much about.

  Iris, he thought her name was.

  Despite how her relationship with Syn might have begun—Winter hadn’t been shy about sharing that bit—they seemed to have worked things out, considering she was standing at his back, and he glared at another man just for looking at her.

  When Syn’s gaze found him, however, he smiled wide. “Celt,” he called with a flick of his wrist in that salute of his. “Vacation’s been good on you, mate. I think I see a glow to that pale Irish skin.”

  Maybe he’d add Syn’s name to the list ...

  But some part of him knew that his anger wasn’t at Syn, but rather at the man currently waiting on the other side of the door in front of him.

  The man who, as Kyrnon entered the room, didn’t turn. He didn’t even flinch. He kept his back to the room with his hands clasped together, his focus on the screens he was currently staring at.

  Screens that all depicted the same woman in white.

  And unlike most surveillance images he had ever seen, she wasn’t staring off to the side, unaware that her photo was being taken, but rather she stared directly at the camera.

  “What in the hell d’you want with me, Kingmaker?” Kyrnon asked, ignoring the warning look Red shot him from his position at the table, his legs propped up on the table and crossed at the ankles. “My lady’s waiting in the middle of the airport for me. What in the bloody hell was so important?”

  “Oh, and he brought the Brady Bunch in too,” Red added with a jerk of his chin in the direction of the four men who weren’t, actu
ally, a part of the Den.

  Bank robbers, he reminded himself. Called themselves the Wild Bunch.

  There was a clear divide in the room—on one side was the only family he’d known for many years, and on the other were men he hadn’t known for half as long. He wasn’t particularly bothered by them—not in the way Red was—but Winter sitting to the right of the big one meant he was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.

  If she liked them well enough, then he was sure they’d get on.

  “You all were brought here for a reason,” the Kingmaker said as he turned, leveling dead eyes on him. “There’s a woman in New York City I need to find. Over the past year, you would have known her by the name Belladonna.”

  This wasn’t the man Kyrnon was used to meeting with.

  In his place stood someone as sullen as he was dispassionate. It was unlike anything he had ever seen from him. But while some part of him—the man who was thankful for the opportunity he’d been given—wanted to feel sympathy for him and the current problem he was dealing with, the selfish part of him couldn’t give a single shite.

  Not when Amber was expecting him.

  And after a glance down at his watch, he knew the only possible way he could make it to JFK in time with this traffic would be if he left in the next twelve minutes.

  He needed to get this meeting done with.

  “This moment,” the Kingmaker continued, “ladies and gentlemen, was what you were trained for. Understand me when I say she is not to be harmed. If a hair on her head is hurt, in any way, I will personally see that you suffer tenfold.”

  Only this man would actually open his mouth to tell a roomful of mercenaries not to harm the woman who was currently hell-bent on seeing him ruined.

  “Easier said than done, I’d imagine,” Kyrnon said, reluctantly taking a seat. “Unless something’s changed, doesn’t she have that Jackal fella? He nearly made you into Swiss Cheese, and Grimm could very well be the same for all we know.”

  “That’s what they’re for,” the Kingmaker said with a nod of his head toward the Wild Bunch. “While they deal with him, you all with bring me Belladonna.”

  “And how, exactly, do you expect us to get close to her?” This from Calavera, who was sitting directly next to her husband, Kit. “I imagine she’s waiting for you to make a move.”