Chapter Twenty-Six
“I have a question,” Verity said, dipping a spoon into the heavily sugared bowl of cereal.
Cross glanced up. He’d been wondering how long it would take before her natural curiosity overrode her desire to pretend he didn’t exist. So far, their morning had been conducted in deeply awkward silence from the moment they’d woken. The fact of finding themselves still wrapped in an embrace and a tangle of sheets clearly coming as a shock to both.
Looking back, he hadn’t intended to spend the night there at all. He’d merely wanted to ensure she had fallen fully asleep before he moved away. But he had been awake for almost thirty-six hours and that exhaustion, combined with had been a truely spectacular fuck, had defeated him.
He’d woken first, his annoyance at having fallen asleep quickly replaced by the curious realisation that his first instinct was not to carefully extricate himself from her loose embrace. Instead, he’d found his thoughts wandering to how nice it would feel to roll her onto her back, settle into the soft vee of her thighs and bury himself deep inside the glorious slick warmth of her cunt.
And he was still wrestling with that suggestion when Verity yawned and blinked awake. There had been one moment, while her gaze was still blurred by sleep, when he thought she was about to smile and reach for him. Then he saw her expression change, her eyes widening as events shifted back into focus and the hot rush of shame sent a blush rising up her throat, staining her cheeks crimson.
She scrambled backwards, almost falling off the bed as she struggled to free her limbs from the twisted covers. Sheet clutched to her chest she backed away, taking it with her.
Cross held onto the end that was still wrapped around his hips, partially because he was enjoying the escalating alarm on her face as she rapidly considered her dwindling options and partially because he wasn’t prepared to display the full extent of his arousal in that moment.
There was a brief tug-of-war as she tried, unsuccessfully, to wrench the fabric from his grip and then he slowly started to wind it around his wrist, dragging her closer.
Inch by inch her heels scuffed over the carpet and her frantic struggles intensified. Gradually, the amount of sheet remaining to cover her modesty reduced and her movements became increasingly jerky as she tried to halt the inevitable slide in his direction. Conceding the unequal battle with a yelp, she let go of the remaining length of cotton and sprinted for the bathroom. He had one moment to appreciate the truly impressive colourwork he’d made of her arse the day before before the door slammed shut.
Probably for the best, he told himself, falling back against the mattress with a chuckle. He needed to give her a chance to recover her strength, and the activities his body had been suggesting would not have aided that recovery. But his hand moved under the sheet to grip his painfully hard erection as he tucked one arm behind his head and stared at the ceiling.
Whether last night would turn out to be a mistake, he wasn’t sure. It had, at least, led to a decent night's sleep for both of them, which was much needed. But if he’d been hoping to lower the barriers between them, it might have been too much, too soon. As he firmly stroked himself, his eyes lingered on the closed door to the bathroom. He really should be feeling annoyed at himself for how things ended.
But he wasn’t.
Closing his eyes, his pace quickened as he remembered the feel of her skin beneath his fingers, the scent of her arousal filling his head and the taste of her coating his lips. His heels dug into the mattress and he suppress a groan as his hips jerked–
The sound of Verity clearing her throat dragged him sharply back to the present and he shook his head. “Sorry, what?”
Her eyes were narrow with suspicion and he realised he’d frozen, holding a piece of toast halfway to his mouth. Trying to cover the lapse, he lowered his hand and returned his attention to her original question. “What did you want to ask?”
Verity frowned and then gave a grumpy shrug as she dropped her gaze to the cereal in front of her. “You never explained.”
“Explained what?”
“Why you needed me to break into Mathieu’s office in the first place? Why you were spying on him?”
Cross considered his answer for a moment and then shrugged. “I didn’t. I’m not. Mathieu was in on the whole thing.”
Verity squinted up at him, her confused frown growing deeper. “I don’t understand.”
“I was confident you were capable of stealing a key without raising suspicion and breaking into somewhere you weren’t supposed to be. But I needed to prove it. Needed to see for certain if you were as good as I thought.”
Her eyes widened in outrage. “So that was all fake? It was just a set up? Another test?”
Cross tilted his head to one side. “More of a demonstration. The partners needed convincing that you could deliver as promised before they were prepared to sign off on my actual plan.”
She went back to half-heartedly stirring the soggy mixture of cornflakes and milk. “Well I guess they got their answer.” She gave a snort. “How embarrassing for you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well it wasn’t exactly a resounding success!”
Cross leaned towards her. “To the contrary, they were very impressed with your skills. You managed all the required elements without any difficulty. The demonstration only became derailed when you displayed a thoroughness and attention to detail we had not anticipated.”
Verity expression was evolving into a mix of horror and disbelief. “So what, you want to do it again? For real this time?”
“That is the plan.” He paused, his gaze lingering on her face. “If you feel up to it.”
She gave a harsh laugh. “Not a chance. The second this enforced supervision period is up, I’m out of here.”
He nodded and got to his feet. “That’s understandable.” He started to load the dishwasher with his empty mug and plate. Almost as an aside he added, “And I’m sure that will come as a great relief… to Valentina at least.”
There was a chink as her spoon hit the side of the bowl and then silence. Cross waited, aware that he was holding his breath.
“I know what you’re trying to do,” she muttered.
Closing the door to the dishwasher he turned and leaned back against the counter. Verity was scowling at him and he couldn’t resist a grin in response. “Is it working?” he asked.
She glared at him for a few seconds and then her hands balled into fists against the marble countertop and she clenched her teeth. “Yes it’s working. Damn you. If Valentina is against the plan, then obviously I’m in.” Clearly annoyed by his blatant manipulation and her own inability to resist the lure, she muttered a barely audible curse beneath her breath and shoved the bowl away. “Explain. How exactly is this going piss off Queen Bitch.”
Cross nodded towards the bedroom. “Go and get dressed. I need to make a call, check that I have authorization to proceed. Once I have that, I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
She continued to glare at him in silence for a few long seconds, then slammed down her spoon and stalked off into the bedroom.
Once Verity had disappeared, to no doubt wreak havoc and destruction on his walk-in wardrobe, Cross pulled out his phone and dialled the number for Henderson, the senior partner. Mentally he crossed his fingers as he waited for an answer, hoping the man was still in the country.
“What is it, Cross?” a voice snapped, clearly annoyed by the interruption. “I thought we were done here, I’m just finishing my packing.”
Cross didn’t bother with small talk, he knew Henderson preferred brevity. “I’ve changed my mind.”
There was a pause and he heard the faint russell of fabric as the man put down whatever item of clothing he’d been folding. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“I want to go ahead with the operation as planned.”
The pause was longer this time. “And Valentina has agreed to this?”
This time it was Cross who paused, needing to take a breath before answering. “Valentina doesn’t know.” He winced, hoping the expression wasn’t conveyed in his tone. “And I don’t want her to know.” To his surprise the man gave a sharp bark of laughter.
“So, you’re finally ready to step out from her shadow. It took you long enough.” There was another pause and a heavy sigh. “She won’t be happy with you.”
“If I’m right, that won’t matter, she won’t be in a position to say anything about it.”
“ If you’re right.”
That sentence hung between them. Cross ran a hand through his hair and forced himself to continue. “So, do I have approval to proceed?”
“I told you, the board will remain neutral.”
Cross clenched his teeth - that wasn’t an answer. “Will you inform Valentina of the change in plans?”
Another sigh. “No. This is between you and her.”
“But you’ll be present at the event?”
This suggestion was greeted with a sharp bark of laughter. “I have no intention of being anywhere near that little soiree, as far as anyone is concerned I will have left the country, but–” There was another pause and Cross held his breath, waiting for the man to finish his sentence. “But I’ll be available, once it’s completed.”
“And if I find what we need, you’ll sign off on further investigation?”
The silence from the other end of the conversation was so complete that for one moment Cross thought the connection had dropped out. Then the man gave a grunt. “If you get the evidence we need, then I will sanction further steps. But if you turn up nothing, I will deny this call ever took place and you will have acted directly against the wishes of another owner. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I am prepared to take full responsibility.”
“Then it looks like I need to change my flight.” And with that, the call was terminated.
Cross sank into a chair, staring at the phone in his hands. This was the first time he’d truly struck out on his own, going directly against Valentina’s wishes. And the support from the Board was lukewarm at best. It had better be worth it, he thought darkly, or his tenure with the Eighth Circle was as good as over. It was unnerving to him that the eventual success or failure would be entirely down to how closely Verity stuck to his plan.
That knowledge was not reassuring.
As if sensing his thoughts, Verity emerged from the bedroom wearing a black muscle shirt he didn’t know he owned and a pair of his boxers. The shirt scooped low over her chest, her breasts moving freely beneath the fabric. Cross felt himself harden immediately. Dammit she made it difficult to concentrate and right now he needed to focus.
“So, when is this party?” she asked.
“Friday.”
“And this time, are you going to tell me who the target is?”
He shifted in his seat, trying to hide his growing erection. “It is not necessary for you to know.”
She wagged a finger at him. “No. That is not how this is going to work. I do better with context, otherwise I start filling in the blanks for myself and we both know where that leads.”
His gaze rested on her face for a long moment. She was right, she would need context. There were several key differences between this exercise and the original demonstration and he would need to trust her.
A muscle tensed in his shoulder. Trust did not come naturally and did not sit comfortably on him. Fortunately, her cooperation wasn’t reliant on any loyalty to him but rather a shared antipathy towards another. He didn’t trust her to have his back but he absolutely trusted her desire to stick the knife in Valentina’s.
Revenge was such a clean motivator.
He took a breath and nodded. “We have been having a problem with our Italian friends.” As briefly as he could, he sketched out the situation with the bungled exchange and the theft of the diamonds while Verity listened in silence.
“So we need you to place a bug, like before, so we can gather enough evidence to sanction a more ‘ in depth ’ conversation with Giancarlo.” He paused, uncomfortably aware of the line he was about to cross. “But I would also like you to find the diamonds he stole.”
Verity gave a snort of amusement. “You think he’s just going to leave a large quantity of diamonds lying about his office while he throws a party??”
“No, I’m sure he’d place them in a safe.”
She shook her head. “I’m flattered that you think I can casually just open any random safe but I’m afraid safe-cracking is not one of my talents. That would require an entirely different skill set, not to mention some specialist equipment.”
“Actually opening the safe will not be necessary, we simply need to make people think you did.”
Verity’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “I thought you wanted me to find the diamonds?”
Cross nodded. “And I do. But I have the means to ensure that you will, regardless of being able to access a safe.” He got to his feet. “Grab your phone and come with me.”
Looking bemused and still somewhat suspicious, Verity snatched up her bag from the corner of the room and fumbled through it for her phone. Once she’d unearthed the item in question she followed him down the hallway to the private lift, which connected his apartment directly to his office several floors below.
The doors slid silently open and they stepped inside without a word. Cross glanced down and saw her shiver as the doors closed, perhaps sensing the shift in tone of their conversation as they began to descend.
He too felt that divide. There would be no turning back once he crossed this final barrier.
Stepping out into the familiar, reassuring space of his office, he took a breath and held out his hand. “Give me the phone.”
Still looking puzzled, Verity handed it over and Cross raised a finger for silence. Selecting the record function he opened his wall safe, a series of electronic beeps acknowledging the code he’d entered. Then he ended the recording and handed her phone back. “Play that sound once you have the bug installed and to anyone listening it will sound like you opening the safe.”
Reaching into the narrow space, he extracted a small velvet pouch. “And once you return with this,” he shook a four carat diamond into her hand, “no one will question how you managed it.”
Verity stared at the chunk of ice in her palm and swallowed hard. “Are you kidding me?? Is this thing real?”
“Not only real, but from the same consignment as the missing diamonds.”
“How? How do you have it?”
“It was a bribe. To ensure I allowed Giancarlo full membership to my establishment.”
Verity’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought the Eighth Circle clubs were above petty bribery. Aren’t you meant to be impartial and all that shit?”
“Indeed. All club owners are strictly forbidden from accepting gifts of any nature.”
“Then why…?”
“I was given no choice. Someone insisted I accept.”
Verity held up the gem so it flashed, catching the light. “Valentina, I assume?”
Cross nodded.
“But why? Why would she take a risk like that?”
He sighed, wondering how best to explain or, at least, how much to explain. “Giancarlo has always been something of a liability. Perhaps it was simply too much money and too little in the way of responsibilities when he was growing up, who knows, but combine that with a volatile temper and you have a recipe for chaos.”
“Sounds exactly like the sort of person you want running a major crime organisation.”
“Quite.” Cross agreed with a tilt of his head. “Things were manageable while his father was alive, he was the steadying influence and was normally able to smooth things over.”
“ Was alive?” Verity asked, echoing his use of the past tense.
“Sadly Stefano died late last year. Very unexpected. A tragedy for the entire family.”
Her eyes widened. “Was he murdered?!”
Cross held up his hand. “There has been no evidence found of foul play, but there were rumours circulating at the time that he was intending to flout tradition and see that control of his business interests passed to his second son.” He inclined his head before adding, “I’d heard he was planning to cut Giancarlo out of his will completely.”
Verity let out a breath with a rush. “Okay, so that would definitely be motive for murder.”
“Yes, and so you understand why the timing of his death has aroused suspicion.”
“What does this have to do with Valentina?”
“Like I said, there was a great deal of suspicion at the time and any number of voices arguing against Giancarlo taking over the reins of the Vitalie empire. Valentina was the first to throw her support directly behind him. She backed his claim and used every scrap of her considerable influence to ensure others did the same.”
“Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know. Her argument, whenever the question was raised, was that traditions must be respected or we risk destabilising the entire system.”
“Is that true?”
“Oh, undoubtedly. Which is why the Eighth Circle has chosen to look the other way.”
“But you don’t believe her?”
He hummed softly before he replied, “Recently I’m finding it harder and harder to believe anything she says. But one thing I know for certain is that Valentina never does anything that doesn’t benefit her in some tangible way and she always has an ulterior motive.”
Verity drew in a slow breath and stared at the gemstone. Clenching her hand into a fist she raised her chin and met his gaze. “And I assume, since she has thrown her support so publicly behind Giancarlo’s claim… if he were implicated in the disappearance of these diamonds, it would reflect poorly on Valentina herself?”
His smile could have cut glass. “Very poorly indeed.”