Page 64 of The Scarab's Game

“Smart move,” I said. “Brie’s not your typical jewelry wearer.”

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Will’s mouth, his voice growing almost wistful. “Yeah, I didn’t think Jenn wouldappreciate a habit-tracker ring or a necklace pendant she could fiddle with incessantly.”

The note of fondness in his voice almost had me pushing for more. I’d half expected something romantic to develop between him and my younger sister over the years, but it never had—both regularly dated other people.

I filed the thought away for later and opened the box Will had handed me, revealing a delicate gold bracelet. Nothing too flashy or attention-grabbing, but a motif resembling screws dotted its surface. And it came with a gold screwdriver to ensure it stayed on. “You’re kidding me.”

“What?” Will asked, sliding his backpack on again.

“This is a Cartier Love bracelet.” The iconic design was unmistakable. How could I give this to Jenn?

“Scarlett came up with the idea a few months ago, so I’d had this prototype almost ready.” Will tapped the screwdriver in the box. “It’s discreet, and the screw closure means no one takes it off.”

It made sense. Neither Jenn nor a security guard—nor a kidnapper—would bother with it because it was too difficult to discard. But still. I was going to give Jenn a Love bracelet?

“Sorry, but it’s what I had.” Will shrugged.

Fuck me. After everything that happened last night—how clear she’d been about wanting more from me—telling her the truth might have been less risky than giving her something like this.

“I finished both of those on the flight.” Will lowered his voice. “The scarab decoy should be done tonight, so long as I can get several uninterrupted hours of work.”

Closing the box, I sighed. The bracelet would help keep Jenn safe, so I couldn’t argue against it. “Have you checked into the hotel yet?”

“I left my bags with the concierge on my way over. Checking in is my next stop.”

Mine should have been to the training facility Jayce was at—a large office space with high ceilings that we’d rented for preparations. But could I leave my vantage point? I was close enough to Jenn I could do something if she was in trouble. Going to the office would leave her exposed.

And I’d sworn to keep her safe.

Chapter 22

Jenn

I steppedonto the deck of Massimo’s yacht,Lustra II, trying to understand everything happening around me. The sea breeze whipped my hair across my face as Dante spoke to one of the crew members. Several people busied themselves with cleaning, no doubt preparing for the yacht’s departure.

“Grazie,” said Dante to the man, who headed off with his cleaning materials. He turned to me. “My father’s not here.”

“Now what?”

“They’re setting sail tomorrow after the auction.” Dante ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in his tone. “Perhaps he’s at the apartment overseeing the packers.”

I chewed my lower lip. Dr. Ferraro was certain the painting I’d been working on was fake, but Dante insisted it was genuine. Was he covering for his father? Or truly in the dark?

Was Emmett right about the De Rosas being dangerous?

“It used to hang in the upper deck lounge.” Dante waved me toward a wall of glass, which slid open with a whisper as we approached. “Maybe someone rehung it.”

As we walked through the yacht’s luxurious interior, I couldn’t shake the prickles skittering up and down my arms. The staff moved about as though everything was normal, butsomething was off. Unless it was just me, and Emmett’s warnings were simply tainting everything I saw.

Or Dante’s irritation had me on edge.

At the top of a narrow circular staircase, we entered the lounge. The room was decorated with sleek white leather furniture, a small table for four at the center, and a bar off to the side. The subtle scent of leather and lemon polish permeated the air.

My eyes were immediately drawn to a painting hanging by the bar. I stepped closer to examine it. “Is this?—”

“The copy,” Dante finished. “At least, that’s what I thought it was, but now you tell me.”

I pulled out my phone to compare this version ofWheatfieldto the old auction catalogs. I zoomed in on the signature. It was so obvious, it practically screamed at me. “These are identical, Dante. Even the craquelure is the same.”