Chapter Thirty-One
Cross tucked one arm behind his head and stared at the ceiling. It was still early but his churning thoughts were refusing to permit further rest. Every meticulous detail of his plan for that evening was surfaced and examined. Nothing had been left to chance but far too much of the eventual success rested on the narrow shoulders of the young woman slumbering next to him.
Seemingly untroubled by the concerns that had woken him, Verity slept on, curled into his side, her head resting on his shoulder and one leg casually slung over his. Cross turned his face into the soft tumble of her hair and breathed in her scent. The light floral notes did more to sooth his nerves than any amount of planning. That realisation prompted another round of concerns and he returned his attention to the ceiling. This was all becoming far too comfortable and familiar. He had to keep reminding himself that this wasn’t real.
Or at least, it couldn’t last.
Once she’d delivered up the evidence against Giancarlo, she would become just another loose end. One who knew far too much and whom he trusted far too little. She would need to be dealt with and swiftly. It would be best for all involved if she just simply disappeared.
He grimaced and raised a hand to his temple to massage away the headache he could feel forming. In the past, he would never have considered this an issue. The violent reputation of the club was well known and well deserved. A reputation that he had, in no small part, helped to build and foster. Even if he wasn’t prepared to enact that final scene himself, Cross had any number of acquaintances who would willingly assist. And yet he found himself searching for another solution.
Gaze still fixed on the ceiling he frowned, wondering if an alternative means of ensuring her silence might be as simple as the application of carrot and stick?
The carrot was fairly easy; he imagined Verity would be amenable to a pay off and he had more than sufficient funds of his own to match her meagre expectations. But the stick half of the equation was less clearly defined. In order to apply the right amount of pressure, you had to know your target’s weak spots, their vulnerability - you needed to find something precious to them.
It occurred to him that, beyond revenge, he couldn’t name one single thing Verity cared about. That bothered him on more than one level. Without that essential counterbalance, how could he ensure she remained silent?
His other reasons for being concerned by his lack of insight, he chose to ignore in that moment.
***
Verity’s fingers caressed the dark, midnight blue silk. The dress was equally beautiful to the one she’d worn before, but far less obvious. The halter bodice was fitted but not as ruthlessly restrictive as the boned corset. Of course it was still sexy, she was sure Cross would insist on nothing less, plenty of cleavage on display and an open back that dipped almost indecently low, but there was a subtlety to it that had been lacking in the first design.
As if summoned by her thoughts, she suddenly felt his presence at her shoulder and a ripple of excitement ran through her.
“Better?” Cross asked.
“Much better,” she agreed, giving a bright smile that she hoped would hide the tension she was feeling.
“And look–” His hand brushed over hers, disappearing into the rich folds of the dress, “--it has pockets!”
Despite her concerns over how the night would end, Verity giggled, her fingers following the same path, sliding into the silken pocket and interlacing with his. His other arm wound around her waist, his hand firm against her stomach, pressing her back into him and reminding her of their first dance.
This time, when he took her in his arms, she would be able to feel the skin of his palm burning directly against her spine, no fabric between them. She gave a warm shiver at the thought and closed her eyes. As if sensing her daydream, Cross shifted his weight, gently swaying to silent music and she relaxed back against his solid frame.
“One day, I need to teach you to waltz,” he murmured into her ear.
Those words shattered the illusion and with a heavy sigh Verity stepped out of his embrace. There was no ‘one day’ and she needed to remember that. The fact that he’d considered and addressed her concerns over the previous outfit might be reassuring, but the appearance of the dress suddenly made everything feel very real. This was actually happening, and as soon as they left this apartment the little bubble of unreality they’d created would burst.
Cross cocked his head. “Are you ready? The beautician will be here shortly.”
Verity groaned and rolled her eyes. “Can’t I do my own hair and make up?”
“No. It needs to be done to a very specific design.”
Verity frowned.“Why?”
“Because you’re not going to be the only one sporting it.” As her look of puzzlement increased, he gave a sigh and explained. “There is another girl. Roughly the same build and colouring as you. She’s already on her way to the party as part of the wait staff. When it’s time, she’ll meet you in the ladies bathroom on the first floor and you can swap clothes. She’ll then rejoin the party and drift about in the background. As long as no one gets too close, it should be enough to allay suspicion.”
“Leaving me free to stage the theft.”
“Exactly, and once you’re done, you can slip out through the kitchens. I’ll have a car waiting for you at the end of the alleyway.”
Verity nodded. All in all, it was a good plan and she could see how it might work. But she was uncomfortably aware that it probably wouldn’t be a getaway car waiting for her at the end of that darkened alleyway. And that it would be much safer to come up with her own exit strategy.
Tightening the belt to her robe, she nodded. “Sounds like you’ve thought of everything!”
“Oh I have,” Cross replied, but the professional smile he wore did nothing to settle her nerves.
***
Verity was anxiously chewing gum as Cross made his final preparations before their departure. He suppressed a shudder. She must have picked it up from her flat. He should have added ‘gum’ to the list of contraband items he’d told Michaels to look out for.
Opening the safe, his fingers hesitated for a moment and then he withdrew the velvet pouch containing the diamond. Once this was ‘discovered’ on Giancarlo’s property, there would be no questioning his guilt and the Eighth Circle would be swift to act. Of course Valentina would know its provenance, but there was no way she could say anything without revealing her attempts at bribery.
Despite the reassurances he’d given to Verity, he very much doubted that Valentina would lose everything, in fact he was counting on her retaining control of her club. If faced with total ruin, she’d be quick to throw any suspicion she could his way and admitting to her own attempts at coercion would be the far lesser evil.
But Valentina was a realist. If Giancarlo alone was tainted with scandal she would immediately cut ties and side with the Board. Her judgement would be called into question, meaning she’d lose influence and prestige, but she’d keep her club and, ultimately, that was what mattered to her. Therefore, it also mattered to Cross. He needed her clinging on to her position, afraid that any additional ripples of guilt might rock her luxury boat. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror. After tonight he should have Valentina exactly where he wanted her.
He turned to see Verity pulling at the edges of the halterneck, checking and rechecking that the tape used to create her artificial cleavage wasn’t showing.
“You look lovely,” he said, hoping to calm her nerves. “The colour suits you.”
Her gaze flicked up to his and she gave a weak smile. “Thank you.”
He shook his head. “You're going to have to do better than that.” Reaching for her hand, he shook the diamond into her waiting palm. “Hopefully this will add a little sparkle to your performance.”
Verity stared at the rock and released a slow breath. Nodding twice, she opened her clutch but then her hands hesitated again. Cross followed her gaze trying to identify the new source of concern. Immediately, he realised that the tiny bag could already barely close around the phone and lipstick mic jammed inside, which meant the diamond perched precariously on top of the other essential items. Verity dithered for a moment, then transferred the mic to her cleavage and dropped the diamond into the space created.
Snapping the bag closed, she gave a firm nod and raised her chin. “All set.”
Cross watched her for a moment. She might have pinned a smile in place, but he could feel the nervous tension simmering beneath the surface. He couldn’t blame her for feeling worried, they were venturing into hostile territory and, for most of the plan, she would be on her own. He hoped she’d be able to maintain the act or they’d never make it past the front door.
Ignoring his own escalating anxiety, he extended his arm, a smile softening his features as her small hand slid into the crook of his elbow.
“Shall we?”
They exited the office with a flourish but had barely covered two paces before Cross ground to a halt, his eyes fixed on the unexpected presence of his bar manager.
“What are you doing up here?” he said, his tone sounded sharper than he’d intended and he felt Verity’s fingers tighten on his arm. Pulling free from her grip, he stalked forward.
Chris set down the glass he’d been polishing and turned to greet them. “Sorry, Mr Cross. Nick called in sick, I assumed you’d need someone covering this floor. I can get someone else if–”
“No it’s fine,” Cross said, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling that things were slipping out of his control. Perhaps Verity’s nerves were rubbing off on him. As if prompted by this thought she cracked her gum loudly behind him and he spun round.
“Will you get rid of that!”
Hands raised in exaggerated apology, she turned away to grab a paper napkin from one of the tables and made a show of depositing the offending item in the bin where it landed with a dull thud.
“Happy now?”
“Ecstatic.”
Careful to keep himself between her and the bar he grabbed hold of her elbow, hustling her firmly down the stairs and out to the waiting car.
He could not wait for this night to be over.