Page 65 of The Wicked

With a clench in my jaw, I looked away from the picture as she dropped the phone back in the bag. “I’m still not following how I could help you.”

“We happen to know that in a few hours, you’ll be going to the same exhibit as—”

“Forget it.” I started stuffing the papers back into the paper bag. “Not happening in this lifetime.”

“Oh, come on, this is important.”

“And I should care because?”

“Your brother is involved.”

Maybe if I had shot him, this form of blackmail wouldn’t be possible.

“Your people remain under my protection; even if you don’t steal the—weird—chihuahua painting, they cannot reach you if youstayindoors.”

Something changed in her demeanor, her eyes widening in a plea. “We collected the money, and when we asked to refund, they refused. It’s just one job, one stupid painting, and things will go back to normal. It’s our fucking reputation on the line. We’ve never disappointed clients.”

“If you think I give an ounce of care for your reputation, then you are very ill-informed about me.”

“I know you don’t care, but those documents in your hand could open the door for you. With Edoardo.”

“I can as well do that on my own.”

Her eyes searched mine, and I knew she was trying to find a way to get me to agree. “Okay, fine, do this one thing for me, and I’ll answer one question. Anything you wanna know about me, I’ll answer truthfully.”

“Indeed?”

“Yeah, anything.”

“Hm.” I thought carefully about the question, keeping my eyes on her. “How are you related to Manuel Conti?” I asked.

Her eyes widened as she stumbled back a step. “How—” She stopped; the horror in her eyes told me I had hit the nail on the head with that question, and my curiosity grew. That name had come up during my intense research on her background, but there wasn’t enough information on their relationship.

She took a shaky breath and raised her chin a little, a stance to show courage. “I used to work for him.”

“What work?”

“I answered your question,” she snapped.

I remained quiet for a few charged seconds before I spoke. “You understand that many important people will attend the exhibit tonight.”

She sighed in relief, her shoulders dropping as the tension slipped out of her. “Yes, we had a whole plan to get in and steal the painting after the show, but—Angelo has confiscated a lot of our equipment, and we can’t go in blindly with just comm devices and wits, and since I’ve gathered putting your brother in danger is unforgivable, you’re my best shot at this.”

“I am not stealing a—chihuahua painting.”

“No, you’re not. You’re just getting one of us in as your plus-one; you can go back and merry away with your fellow buddies and talk about the weather when we do our thing.”

“Who am I taking along?”

She let out a breath of relief. “Any one of us. Milk is more—”

“The dress code color for women is white. Please look responsible.”

She blinked at me. “Oh, I’m not volunteering; I can’t be among social gatherings like that.”

“Can’t?”

“I mean, I can, bu—”