Chapter Thirty-Two
“Stop gawking!” Cross muttered out of the corner of his mouth.
“I’m sorry, but it’s all so…. tacky.”
“Shhhh.”
“I mean who has a life sized replica of Michael Angelo’s David in their foyer.”
“You’re attracting attention,” he snapped, “and that’s the last thing we need!”
Verity huffed and dropped her chin, leaning into his arm and affecting a polite smile. “I’m just saying, I think I preferred Mathieu’s party, even given how it ended.”
“I must remember to tell him that, I’m sure he’ll be delighted.” Cross replied, giving a bland nod of acknowledgement to one of the other party guests.
“Is he going to be here tonight?”
“No, he has other matters to attend to.” The words were close enough to the truth, he decided. Mathieu wasn’t exactly here, but he was close, keeping an eye on the end of the alleyway, ready to intercept Verity as she made her escape and whisk her away.
“That’s a shame.”
“Should I be jealous?”
“It would be nice to see a friendly face.”
“Don’t worry, we have plenty of friends here.” Cross caught the eye of one of the waiters. He’d been carefully infiltrating the catering company for the last few weeks. If you included the openly invited ‘guests’ he knew could count on, he probably had more loyal personnel at this party than Giancarlo.
He wasn’t leaving anything to chance.
But of course, not every face was so friendly. Across the room he could see Valentina, resplendent in an emerald green sheath and surrounded by an adoring entourage. The queen bee - tended to by her devoted drones. Her gaze swung in his direction, eyes enlarged by the extravagant makeup and he revised his opinion. Not a bee, he corrected himself, nothing so mundane. The insect Valentina resembled was far more deadly and exotic. A praying mantis, who would devour her mate with glee once his purpose was served.
He suppressed a shudder, hopefully there was still time to avoid that fate. Her gaze drifted over him and as it came to rest on Verity, he watched her eyes narrow. Jaw tight he cursed himself. He should have let Verity gawp; that lack of self-awareness would probably draw less suspicion from Valentina than the society smile she was currently wearing. Possibly sensing the increased tension in his arm Verity glanced up.
“So what now?” she asked, “Do we dance like last time and gradually twirl our way towards the man of the hour?”
Cross blinked and refocused his attention on the rest of the room. Over the top of Verity’s head he could see Giancarlo bearing down on them, his gaze fixed on the artfully created swell of her cleavage.
“Sadly, I don’t think that will be necessary,” he said.
She glanced up at him in confusion, “Oh?” Then her head turned to follow his gaze and she stiffened, pressing back against him. “OH!”
Cross gave her hand a light squeeze. “Are you ready?”
Verity swallowed hard and forced a smile, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Seconds later her hand was dragged from his as Giancarlo embraced her in an effusive gesture of welcome and swept her towards the dance floor.
Accepting the offer of champagne from a passing waiter Cross moved to the side of the room and watched their performance silently. As Giancarlo’s hands wandered liberally over her body, Verity’s frantic gaze peered over the bulky shoulder to meet his, but rather than offering assistance Cross raised his glass, grinning at the curse she mouthed in his direction.
The minutes ticked by and Cross found his smile harder to maintain. If Giancarlo thrust his hand any further down the back of Verity’s dress he’d be tickling her knees. Shoulder twitching, he fought down the urge to intervene, aware of Valentina’s watchful gaze from the other side of the room. He had to maintain the expression of bored disinterest. She was suspicious enough without him adding further fuel to that fire.
Finally choosing to feign a coughing fit, rather than submit to any further invasive groping, Verity managed to extract herself from Giancarlo’s embrace. One hand braced against his chest to hold him off, she cupped the other across her mouth and mumbled an apology. Giancarlo backed away with a look of distaste as Cross interceded smoothly, taking Verity’s elbow and offering her a glass of water.
At his glance, one of the other guests stepped forward to clap their host on the shoulder and heap praise on his magnificent property. Giancarlo preened under the compliments and allowed himself to be drawn away.
“Did you get it,” Cross asked as soon as they were out of earshot.
Verity shook her head. “He’s not carrying it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure! If I’d frisked him any more thoroughly one of us would be pregnant right now!”
“That makes no sense. He never lets that card out of his possession.”
Verity shrugged. “Unless he was warned.”
“No one would have–” He broke off, his gaze zeroing in on the seated figure on the far side of the room. There was no way Valentina would be that reckless, surely? To deliberately undermine the inner workings of the Eighth Circle was unthinkable! Wasn’t it?
Verity moved closer to him, placing a hand that could only be described as proprietorial on his upper arm. His gaze narrowed. She was wearing an unfamiliar expression, a soft smile playing about her lips as she reached up to run her fingers through his hair.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m playing a hunch,” she murmured, barely moving her lips.
“What hunch?”
“Well, if I wasn’t able to carry a valuable item myself, I would give it to someone I trusted implicitly to hold for me.” Her gaze swung briefly across the room to Valentina, then she gave a bright chime of laughter and patting his shoulder, her expression reproachful. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Valentina stiffen. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure what game Verity was playing, but he was certain he’d be the one who ended up paying for it, one way or another.
But it was too late to worry about that now as Valentina unwound from her chair and stalked towards them, a tight-lipped smile pinned in place.
Once she’d reached them, she embraced him with an exaggerated show of warmth. Placing one hand flat on his chest she leaned across him to sketch an air kiss to Verity’s cheek and exclaimed in a loud voice, “Emily! I’m so glad you could make it.”
“Verity.” Cross corrected.
“Oh I’m so sorry.” The bright peel of laughter undermined the apology. “All your girls look the same and you go through them so quickly, I can never keep track.” She gave Verity a conspiratorial smirk, “You know how it is, they are all blonde, and…” she paused to look Verity up and down. “And usually pretty.”
“She’s not–” Cross began.”
“Surprised,” Verity finished, cutting across him. She tightened her hold on his arm and gave a light sigh. “Not surprised at all. Who wouldn’t jump at the chance of spending time with this magnificent man, however brief it might be. I can well imagine the offers he gets from…” She returned the scathing gaze Valentina had given her appearance. “ all sorts , hoping their luck is in.”
For a moment, Cross thought Valentina was going to slap her, then her glossed lips curved into a cold smile and she took hold of Verity’s chin. “Well if he’s not after you for your looks, you must have other talents less openly displayed.” Not letting go of the front of his shirt, Valentina pulled Verity closer until their lips brushed.
Was it appropriate that he was turned on by this? Cross wondered. Then Verity let out a small sigh, ran her fingers along Valentina’s jaw and into her hair. As the kiss deepened, Cross was forced to shift his stance in an effort to hide his growing erection. The fact that he knew full well both women loathed each other only made the entire scenario hotter for some perverse reason.
The kiss ended as Verity gave a squeak and pulled away, a thin trickle of blood running over her chin from where Valentina had bitten through her lower lip.
Wiping away the evidence with a mocking thumb the older woman gestured Verity towards the door. “You need to fix your makeup, my dear. Now run along.”
To his surprise Verity yielded the floor without argument and retreated to the door. One hand on the handle she paused and then threw him a quick wink. Cross felt his eyes widen.
She had the key card!
He hadn’t even seen her take it. Ruefully, he acknowledged he’d been distracted by the kiss, which had clearly been the point all along. Everyone was distracted and no one noticed the theft. Snapping back to the present he locked eyes with one of his men who had been feigning mild inebriation.
More importantly, everyone needed to remain distracted.
Cross gave a surreptitious nod and the man rose unsteadily to his feet, swayed for a moment, then knocked the elbow of a passing waiter. Champagne flutes smashed to the ground and the man stumbled backwards into a table, grabbing the table cloth as he fell. The ensuing chaos garnered the attention of the strategically placed security personnel and as they moved forward, Cross grabbed Valentina by the elbow and propelled her back against the wall.
She gave an excited gasp as her frame connected with the panelling with a little more force than he’d intended.
“My my, Thomas. Are you jealous of me getting too close to your latest little pet?”
“I want to know what you’re playing at Valentina? What hold does Giancarlo have on you?”
Her smile faltered and she pulled against his grip, trying to free her arm. “Now you’re being ridiculous. He is a member of my club, nothing more. I was fond of his father.”
“That doesn’t explain your behaviour towards him.” He gave her a rough shake. “Did you warn him about the Eighth Circle and their suspicions?”
Her eyes widened in what looked like genuine outrage. “No, I did not warn him!” Her hands came up to push him back. “I would never do that. But you should have listened to me. You should have got rid of that girl after the last fiasco, but no, the great Thomas Cross always knows best. Will not listen to advice ”
Cross tightened his grip on the struggling woman. “I think I’ve been listening to your advice for far too long. Maybe it’s time that changed.”
Valentina went very still, her voice little more than a soft hiss. “You forget yourself, Thomas. Have you forgotten that accident you had? It was by my intervention that your little problem went away. But I can make it all come rushing back.”
The smile Cross gave her in response was pure malevolence. “And how exactly are you threatening to do that? There was no accident, no death, there was just a con-artist looking to make some easy money. And you had someone executed for that crime. All I was ever guilty of was driving under the influence.” He leaned closer, “Perhaps I’m the one who can bring the past rushing back.”
Valentina had gone white beneath her makeup, but she recovered herself, waving away the accusation. “It’s all in the past now, Thomas. Ancient history. Surely you are not angry over a little ‘misunderstanding’? It was so long ago!”
“Nineteen years and eight months ago - to be precise,” he replied, not even trying to keep the bitterness from his tone. “Nineteen years that you let me think I’d killed someone, and that it was only by your intervention that I was not in jail. Nineteen years that you have held that threat over my head.”
She paused to run her eye over the lapel of his suit. “It looks to me like you have done quite well out of following my advice over the years. Do you think you would sit where you are now, without my help?”
Cross paused. There was truth to that. It was her contacts that had brought him to the attention of the Eighth Circle. Her recommendation that had secured his first position and her vote that had given him his own club. He frowned, quite possibly it was her intervention that had seen the demise of the previous owner of the London club. He was never sure exactly how far her claws extended.
But he was not about to let her talk her way out of this and he shook his head. “I think you have benefited more than I, from any favours bestowed. You’ve effectively had run of two Eighth Circle establishments, and have always been assured of at least two votes at board level.
“Well, when this little scheme of yours turns up nothing, we’ll have to see how long you retain your seat at the table.” Her smile failed to reach her eyes. “Perhaps it’s time I start looking for a new owner of our London venue. Someone more amenable.”
Under the guise of a fit of temper, Cross thrust Valentina away from him and stalked to the french windows. Outside, the evening was chill and the terrace, thankfully, deserted. Stepping into a patch of shadow, Cross slipped the earpiece into place and turned on his mic.
The chatter that immediately filled his head, informed him that Verity had made her way to the ladies’ powder room, activated her comms device and was in the middle of swapping outfits with her duplicate. He heard the russell of fabric, a giggle and the sound of a zipper. Strangely he could also hear the muffled growl of traffic in the background and he frowned. The property was almost hermetically sealed with triple glazing which rendered it completely soundproof, he shouldn’t have been able to hear–
His train of thought was interrupted by a familiar, impatient tone saying, “How are you ladies doing in there?”
Cross stiffened, that was Henderson’s voice, what was he doing here? His thoughts raced. On the one hand, it would add veracity to their findings if there was a senior partner present to bear witness, on the other hand, Verity would need to give the performance of a lifetime to avoid arousing suspicion.
“I wasn’t expecting you to join us, sir .” He hoped Verity would notice the use of the honorific and realise they had company on the call.
“Well, I was sitting in my hotel room waiting for the call and I realised it’s been too long since I was directly involved in an operation. So I rang your man, Price and said I’d be joining him. That’s not a problem is it, Cross?”
“Not at all, sir. The more the merrier,” Cross replied, running a hand through his hair. He checked his phone and realised he had five missed calls from his second in command Ethan Price. Why the hell had he put the damn thing on silent?
Verity interrupted the awkward pause with a cheery welcome. “Hey, you’re back with us! Finally managed to escape Valentina’s clutches?”
“Yes, I was able to get rid of her.”
“Permanently?”
Cross almost smiled at the hopeful note in her voice. “Sadly not, but I should be free for a few minutes.”
“Has the distraction worked?” Henderson’s impatient tone cut through the banter and Cross glanced back through the glass doors.
“Yes.” He confirmed, watching the borderline fight that was in progress in the room behind him. “Everyone is fully distracted.”
The next thing he heard was Verity’s confirmation. “Okay, we’re ready.” There was a brief exchange of words between the two girls and then the creak of a door opening followed by a trill of laughter growing fainter until it was cut off abruptly by male voices.
“What’s going on?” Cross asked.
“Relax,” Verity replied, “she’s doing great, she’s even managed to get two of the security guards to accompany her downstairs. Frankly, she deserves a raise.”
Watching through the window, Cross could see the Verity-clone descending the stairs, her evening purse clutched to her chest as she was firmly propelled into the foyer by the security personnel. From this distance the likeness was uncanny and Cross released the breath he’d been holding.
Once on the ground floor, her escort immediately moved to address the disturbance in the main room, leaving her free to drift about in the background, visible enough to be noticed but keeping a careful distance from the other guests. She was doing well, he thought with approval. Verity was right - she would be getting a bonus.
A voice in his ear interrupted his self-congratulation. “Oh shit she took–!”
“What is it?”
“Nothing, don’t worry, everything fine, I just–”
“Verity?”
“It’s all good. I’m ready.”
Frustrated that he couldn’t demand a clearer answer from her, and with a growing sense of alarm he heard the creak of the bathroom door opening.