Layla was different in every way. She was tall, graceful, like a model. Her lips were as red as blood, and I doubted it was simply lipstick that made them look so full and lush. Her dark eyes were lined with thick lashes so dark that I doubted she needed to even wear mascara. The red dress that clung to every curve complimented her naturally tanned skin. And she held herself with a confidence I could recognize easily enough. She was a made woman—someone who had clawed her way to the top and was proud of it.
“This one is actually mine.” A knowing look glimmered in her eyes. “I had it commissioned after I graduated university by an obscure artist I’d found. It was a thank-you for making him a shit-load of money.”
“Is it of you and the artist?” I asked. I hadn’t wanted to ask, but there was something in the tone of her voice that bugged me.
“It is me.” She tried to look bashful, but modesty wasn’t a good look for her. “But the man in the painting is not the artist.” Layla’s gaze slid to me. “You should ask your husband about it.”
“Why would I—” Oh. The man painted here was Dante. Not the artist. Clenching my jaw, I forced myself to say nothing. I would not let someone like her goad me. She was nothing—an art dealer who tried so desperately to belong in this world. I could see the truth beneath the careful facade she’d spent years putting together.
I had been born into this world. She had not. And that gave me all the power.
Feigning interest, I tilted my head. “Funny, looks a lot like the position I was in just a few minutes ago.” I narrowed my eyes, tilting my head to the other side. “Only less…erotic. If your artist ever needs better models, let us know. We could show you what it really means to fuck.”
“Enjoy the rest,” Layla said sweetly. “I hope you find other paintings to your liking, though I’m sure this one will outshine all the others.”
Her meaning wasn’t lost on me. I didn’t spare her a glance as she walked away, clearly pleased with herself. What Dante had done—who he’d screwed—before me didn’t matter. Layla didn’t threaten me. Dante was mine so completely, as he’d proved time and time again.
My hand rested on my stomach. It was too early to start showing, but the small flutters I thought I felt were real enough. Nothing mattered now but the life growing within me and our future. Its future. Turning away from the painting, I wandered into the hall to go into the next room when something caught my eye at the back of the building.
Two security guards stood side by side before a door. I paused in the hall, pretending as if I couldn’t decide where to go next while I mentally checked the schematics I’d memorized. That door led to the back offices, though I had no idea why the auction house would place guards out front unless they really didn’t trust the patrons they’d invited.
I swept into the next room, my hand reaching for my ear. “Dante.”
“Are you alright?” He sounded tense, as if he already expected trouble.
“The back office. They have guards out front.”
He was silent for a moment. “I’ll check it out. David?”
“Yeah, that sounds good. You’ve been in there for an hour, and we haven’t seen any sign of the Snake. I think that’s our best bet.”
“Killian?”
“I’m already by the back doors. They have security guards at the office doors here as well,” Killian whispered.
“I’ll head towards you now, Sienna.”
I moved from painting to sculpture to painting, keeping an eye on the hall. Dante appeared minutes later, straightening his suit jacket. I could see him sizing the guards up from the corner of his eye.
“We need a distraction,” he muttered over the line.
“One distraction coming right up,” I replied.
My scream made those around me jump. Moments later, the men who’d been guarding the door came running in, their hands already at their sides. Behind them, I could see Dante slipping past the room’s open doorway, heading for the offices. When the security reached me, I stopped, fanning my face and feigning embarrassment.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I breathed. “I thought I saw a spider. They absolutely terrify me.”
The small crowd in the room relaxed, a wave of whispers rushing around us as the security guards exchanged annoyed glances. They headed back towards their positions, leaving me with my imaginary spider. I huddled in the corner, fingers swiping across the earpiece.
“Are you in?”
“Yeah. I guess I did make you scream after all.” I could practically hear the smile in Dante’s voice.
“Do you—” My phone buzzed in my purse, interrupting me. Ignoring the dirty looks from the others in the room, I pulled it out and headed to the corner.
“Hello?”
“Sienna?” My mother’s voice filtered through the phone. I stilled at the sound of it. Her voice shook and cracked, as if she was terrified.