Chapter Twenty-Two
Steele
I only took Ashlynn to the opera to dangle her in front of the society pages, hoping someone would report on her and it would get back to Phillips and make him livid. I also knew Masten would be there, so it was a perfect time to let him know that he should expect his delivery from my men on Friday. Since this heist was such a big deal, I’d personally oversee the transfer. One wrong move, and my whole empire could come crashing down upon me. If even the slightest hint was laid, and one museum somewhere realized they had fakes in their galleries, the repercussions would be felt worldwide as others had their pieces authenticated. I was fairly confident that our fakes would pass by the harshest critic, and I was on enough boards to bury anything out of the ordinary, but it was still risky.
Ashlynn breathed quickly next to me, and I felt her lungs expand with each breath she took. I hadn’t realized how much this opera would affect her. I felt like an absolute ass, bringing her here and stirring up painful memories.
When she sniffled, the guilt got the better of me. I leaned in and whispered in her ear. She jumped, and I wasn’t sure if she was nervous about me touching her, or if she was just so preoccupied with memories that she had forgotten where she was at.
“Do you want to leave?” Her eyes met mine, and I could tell that her make-up had run all over her face.
She nodded, getting to her feet. I did the same, placing my hand on the small of her back to help guide her out of the box. We walked to the car quickly; I figured she was most likely embarrassed about breaking down in front of me. She was so strong—I hated to see her like this. No matter how much she pissed me off or how often she talked back to me, I never wanted her fire to diminish.
I opened the door to the car for her and she slid in, her face focused ahead. I got in and started the engine, turning up the heat so she’d be comfortable in the revealing dress I’d made her wear.
The silence dragged on, and I felt like I had done something majorly wrong. She had been pissed at me before, but she seemed to enjoy my touch earlier, so I figured it was the opera and the pain it inflicted on her.
I took a deep breath. I was never this reckless, but when it came to Ashlynn, all bets were off.
“I was born in a jail cell.”
Her head whipped around, and she took a large intake of air.
“What?”
“My mother was desolate, poor, and living on the streets. I told you she became a prostitute. She was apprehended when she approached a policeman. Not realizing who he was, she offered her services. I was born four months later. She hid her pregnancy. I think part of her hoped that her parents would have pity on her and take her back after she got out of jail. I don’t know if she planned to keep me, or tell them I died…”
I trailed off, reciting the facts of the situation calmly, trying not to get emotional. I’d made my peace with my past, but I wanted Ashlynn to know that I carried scars as well, both physically and emotionally. I wasn’t sure why it was important for me to tell her this, other than to show her that I, too, had lost a mother.
Her tears started anew, and she looked at me with pity—but, for the first time, she also looked at me like a man. Not a criminal, not her captor, not the person who just warmed her sheets.
I continued, wanting to get the whole story out. It was like a poison festering inside me. “My mother died during childbirth. She tried to deliver me herself, and it…didn’t go well. She hemorrhaged in her cell.”
Ashlynn was openly weeping now, but I couldn’t stop my tale.
“I was placed in a series of orphanages and foster homes until I reached the age of fifteen. I still bear the scars of some of them.” I didn’t go into detail about how they happened. When I turned twenty-one, I’d gone back and killed the man who did it, so he could never hurt another child again.
“After fifteen, I couldn’t take it anymore and I ran away. I lived on the streets of London for two years, and then I came to Paris. I got a job as a janitor for a lesser art museum. I fell in love with the museum at night, and when I looked at the paintings, I felt like I owned them. It was just me and the paintings until dawn. I snuck into art history classes and studied at the library whenever I could. I managed to fake my way into college and majored in Art History at Oxford. I used my father’s name, and they never even figured out that I hadn’t finished high school. By then he’d passed on, and I took over the estate after DNA testing was done.”
“How did you find out who your family was?”
“I hunted down my birth certificate. It wasn’t hard. I took advantage of the connections my family name brought, and I used my late father’s money to invest in my business. He squandered most of it away, but it was enough for me to get started.”
I turned onto my driveway, the security guards nodding as I passed them. Ashlynn looked at my manor, her eyes still glistening with tears. I didn’t want her sympathy, but seeing her open up and feel sadness for me stirred something within my soul.
“You’re an art thief,” she said.
Smart girl.
She slipped off her heels the second she got into the house. We hadn’t said anything further to each other, and I wasn’t sure what was left to say. I’d basically put it all on the line for her. She knew my life story—knew me more intimately than anyone else did. I watched as she climbed the stairs to her room, the room in which I’d placed all her possessions. She looked conflicted, and I wondered if perhaps her heart was softening towards me. I knew that there were things that I was starting to feel for her. I wasn’t sure what they were, but I didn’t want her out of my life anytime soon.
My cell phone rang, and I glanced at it, seeing Cooper’s name pop up on the screen. I answered it, heading towards my study for a stiff drink.
“Hey Steele. I just got into Paris. Did Masten make contact tonight?”
I sat in my leather armchair behind my desk, putting my feet up on the surface of it while I removed my tie.
“He did. He’ll wire a deposit later this evening, and then the full amount once the transfer is made. He wants it delivered to his estate in Santorini.”
“Sounds good. I’ll get the logistics sorted out. You’re still planning on being involved in this one, right?”
I picked up the crystal decanter and poured myself a tall glass of scotch. “Yes. This one is big. I want to make sure absolutely everything goes off without complication.”
“Sounds good. How’s our favorite prisoner behaving?” The second he mentioned Ashlynn, I pictured her tears that evening, first for her mother, and then her sorrow at my background—how her beautiful mocha eyes glistened as the tears made their way down her soft cheek.
I sighed, feeling more confused than I had ever been in my life. “Did you still want that beer?”
I met Cooper at a small bar just outside the city. I’d changed into jeans and asked Quincy to check-in on Ashlynn and make sure she ate something. I’d originally planned to take her to dinner after the opera, but I didn’t think she was feeling up to it.
Cooper was already sitting in a booth when I got there. He was wearing all black, just coming from the warehouse. I sat opposite him, and he slid a beer towards me.
“I took the liberty of getting started without you. But I did order you one so you can catch up.”
I grabbed the glass bottle and took a large gulp. It wasn’t as good as scotch, but I wasn’t picky tonight. Alcohol was alcohol in the end.
Cooper glanced at me, one eye lowered, his brow wrinkled. “Steele.”
I ran my fingers through my hair, looking anywhere but at Cooper. There was a jukebox in the corner, and I felt myself watching the pattern of lights as it flashed.
I cleared my throat. “I—I don’t want to hurt her.”
“So don’t. Get her father to pay or play, and then let her loose. She’s been nothing but a nuisance.”
I rubbed my jaw, feeling the slight scruff that was appearing. “I don’t want to give her back.”
Cooper’s eyes widened, but he quickly hid his surprise by taking another sip of his beer. “You sleeping with her?”
I wanted to lie, but I was done lying. I couldn’t anymore. At least Cooper would understand some of my feelings towards her if he knew we’d been physical together. “Yeah.”
This time he grinned playfully. “That good, huh? No wonder Harrington wanted her.”
I didn’t bother to correct him. It didn’t really matter who wanted her or who had her before.
She was mine now.
“It’s complicated between us.”
“No shit. You kidnapped her and want to kill her father. Not exactly a fairytale. But who cares? If you want to keep her, just do it. No one is stopping you. It doesn’t sound like Phillips gives a fuck what you’re doing with her. Just enjoy her until you’re finished and then move on. Hell, keep her as long as you want. Then you can give her to me.”
I grabbed my bottle of beer and threw it against the wall. The entire bar fell into silence for a few seconds before nervous chatter started back up again. The manager took one look at me, and then went to clean it up.
The look on Cooper’s face told me that there was no more bullshitting here.
“Steele…you can’t possibly—”
I placed my forehead in my hands, rubbing at my hairline. “I think I do.”
I dragged my head up, trying to gauge Cooper’s reaction. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost. He didn’t say anything, but took another long swig of his beer, and then motioned for the bartender to bring me another one.
“Does she—”
“I don’t know. I think sometimes she might. She’s had ample opportunities to run away. Even opportunities to kill me.”
“Not killing someone doesn’t equal love, Steele.” Cooper looked at me intensely. “Are you sure it’s just not lust? She’s hot, I’ll give her that. And if she’s good in bed, that might explain—”
“No. It’s not just that. I find myself—wanting her to be happy. I want to please her. I want to share things with her, things that I shouldn’t.”
“You absolutely cannot tell her anything about the business, Steele. If you did, we’d have to kill her.”
The bartender placed another beer in front of me, and I drank deep. The anger from before was still just under the surface of my skin, and I knew that I needed to control it. Cooper didn’t know the extent of my feelings when he talked about me passing her along. The thought made me sick to my stomach. I never wanted anyone else to look at her again. I wanted to smuggle her away, keep her locked in a vault. I wanted to—I wanted to treat her like all of those amazing pieces of art that passed through my hands every day. Only this time, there was absolutely nothing that would make me give her up.
“No one touches Ashlynn. No one. And if you don’t keep your mouth shut about her, you’ll be out of a job.”
“Steele, think about what you’re doing. You’re risking it all on the off chance that this girl might like you. I can guarantee she doesn’t love you.”
His remark stung. My feelings about Ashlynn were already confusing me, but the realization that this could be completely one-sided wasn’t something I needed reminding of.
I peeled the label off my beer, needing to do something with my hands. A group of university students were laughing and joking in the corner. I looked at them, envious of their carefree attitude and their whole life ahead of them. I’d been robbed of my youth. Any joyful moments I might have had were taken away from me. I’d only known pain, hunger, and the harsh realities of life. I wondered what my life would have been like if my father would have married my mother and forced his family to accept her. Would I be working some boring nine to five job as an investment banker? Would I be married, with a family?
There was no use speculating. This was my life.
Cooper tried to breach the uncomfortable silence. “What are you going to do?”
“I have no fucking idea.”