Page 13 of City Of Thieves

It can’t be…

The next few moments are lost in a haze of white noise. I don’t hear the auctioneer explaining about the artist and painting style. I don’t even hear the opening bid. The likeness is too startling. Her sadness, too striking. Her head isn’t pointing to the left this time, it’s pointing to the right, but her posture and expression are almost identical.

Oh my God… “Ines” has a twin.

How did I miss this? I’ve been so distracted I never thought to look at the rest of the auction brochure. Besides, it’s not like I have a load of extra money to burn right now. I only came here today because Konstantin ordered me to.

Still, I want her.

Damn, I want her.

Even if I have to sell my apartment and live in a rented condo in The Bronx.

My palms are sweating, and my head feels light. My consumerist compulsion is affecting me like a drug. She’s more than just a painting to me. She’s a lifeline to my past.

“My turn.” Richard straightens up and switches his phone to his other ear, and it’s suddenly clear his “money” wants my lifeline, too.

“Reserve bid of five hundred thousand,” the auctioneer announces.

I force myself not to move a muscle. Everyone knows only novices bid first.

The auctioneer snaps out a curt nod. “Five from the back. Do I hear five ten?”

My head whips around, my gaze colliding with the man in black again. He’s staring straight at me, as if he never stopped—the shadow of a smirk now gracing his beautiful mouth.

“Five fifty,” the auctioneer declares. “Do I hear five sixty?”

As I watch, Marchesi lifts his hand again, throwing all auction etiquette to the wind.Doesn’t he know bidding is like a long joke? It only gets good with the punchline.He’s playing his hand way too early,unless…

Unless he knows how much I want it, and he’s toying with me.

I jerk my head back to the stage, my heart racing again.

But how the hell would he…?

“Six hundred thousand.”

Unable to wait any longer, I give the briefest of nods, and the auctioneer pounces.

“Seven hundred,” drawls a deep voice, eliciting shocked murmurs from the audience. It’s also frowned upon to call out the bid in an elite auction house,but something tells me that a blunt crook like Marchesi doesn’t give a damn about protocols.

I nod again.

The auctioneer notices.

“Seven ten to number—”

“Eight hundred.”

Mafia bastard.

“Do you have an upper bid?” Richard murmurs, skipping into play with a nod of his own to take the bid to eight twenty.

“Limitless,” I grit out.

“I thought you weren’t here to ‘buy,’ Tatiana?” he says slyly.

“Oh, fuck off, Richard,” I snarl in a rare flare of emotion, and he chuckles as Marchesi takes the bid to a million.