Page 4 of Power and Possession
“Without a hitch. The National Gallery has no idea that their prized possession has been replaced with a fake.”
“Excellent. The proper people paid off?”
My driver, Mario, started the engine, and the car pulled away from the secluded cove where I received the most precious cargo known to history.
“Five million euros each. Even with such a high sum, we’ll still clear over six hundred million alone. Well worth the effort.”
I nodded, glad the risk had paid off. It wasn’t necessarily the most valuable piece of artwork I’d procured, but I knew the sultan would stop at nothing to acquire it. He was oily and untrustworthy, and I wanted him off my back and my business with him concluded. “Make sure he pays us in full before the hand-off happens. I don’t trust him.”
“The men have already been given those instructions.”
I reached into my breast pocket and withdrew a flask, tipping my head back and letting the scotch burn my throat before I broached the subject I cared about the most—revenge. “Any news on Phillips?”
“He’s hiding out of sight right now. My guess is that he’s left the States and headed to Canada or Mexico.”
“Anything we can use to lure him back?”
“His wife passed away a few years ago. Cancer. Even before she died, they didn’t spend much time together. He’s a major Lothario, a different girl on his arm every week. No one he’d probably care about. But…”
“What?” I asked irritably. I wanted him to get to the point. Every minute Topher Phillips went without punishment, my position in the underworld became more and more precarious. Once people knew I had been taken in, my standing would topple. People would no longer fear me, and fear was the only thing that kept my clients from stabbing me in the back.
“He has a daughter.”
“I’m not going to threaten some child.”
“She’s in her mid-twenties. Not a child. Fair game, if you ask me.”
I scratched at the stubble starting on my chin. It had been a long day, and I was traveling for most of it. I was ready to head home to my estate, take a shower, and then maybe hit a bar to pick up a woman. But, first, I wanted to ensure there was a plan in place to take care of this backstabbing pest. “What do we know about her?”
“I took it upon myself to put a few men on her the second we agreed to work with Phillips. They’ve been watching her for the past couple of weeks. She’s in Derbyshire. Graduated from Cambridge.”
“She’s in England? That’s convenient.” I pushed a button and the partition between me and my driver lowered. “Mario, change of plans. Head to the airport. Call ahead and tell them to have my jet ready. And tell Quincy to prepare the townhouse inKensington.” I pressed the button again, giving me and Cooper some privacy.
“Steele, she sleeps over at the Harrington Estate. Multiple times a month.”
I frowned. I knew Edward Harrington a bit. He circulated some of the same parties as me. He hadn’t purchased anything from me, but several of his acquaintances had. Little did the world know that instead of residing in museums, the vast majority of the world’s historical treasures were in the hands of the excessively rich and extremely elite. Several of Harrington’s friends and distant relatives were good customers of mine.
I knew Harrington had several extramarital affairs, like most men in his position, but I couldn’t believe he’d be bold enough to have his mistress stay over. Especially an American. “She must be good between the sheets.”
Cooper shrugged his shoulders, reaching into the pocket of his suit jacket for his phone. He hated suits but wore one whenever he knew I was coming into the warehouse.
“I have a picture of her, hold on.” He swiped a few times, then handed me his cell. I took it and lazily glanced at Topher Phillips’ daughter. There was no resemblance between her and her father, so she must have taken after her mother. She had long brown hair, pulled back in a ponytail away from her face. Her eyes were dark hazel, and she was dressed in a soft peach-colored blouse and tight jeans that hugged her curves. She wore a backpack over her shoulder and an iced coffee was clutched in her hand like a lifeline. To me, she just looked like an average woman. Thoroughly American. Nothing special about her. Certainly not enough to have some kind of permanent arrangement with Lord Harrington.
“Why did she stay in Europe if she graduated? Did they form a connection while she was at university?”
“Our men haven’t found out yet. What are you going to do?”
“I’ll take her. Keep her for a while. Use her to draw him out. Should be easy enough.”
“Easy? We’ve never taken a hostage before. We don’t do that shit. We might run a massive black market auction, we might get our hands dirty when people betray us—but taking the daughter of one of the richest men in Manhattan? I was merely suggesting you threaten her or send someone to scare her a bit until daddy comes to save the day. Are you sure you’re willing to take on a hostage for the sake of revenge?”
I glared, reminding him I was still furious over his idiotic mistake. Cooper knew better than to question my judgment, especially after the huge error in his. “Absolutely. No one fucks with me and gets away with it.”
Chapter Three
Ashlynn
The police wouldn’t do anything. With no description and no concrete proof, compounded by the fact that it was several different men following me, their reaction was pretty much the same as the security guards at the Harrington’s estate. But still, I had to try. At this point, I was absolutely certain I was being stalked.