Chapter 19 The Mona Lisa
THE MONA LISA
QUINTON
No updates.
I stare at the text message from Red, my grip on the phone tightening.
No news should be good news. But it’s not.
Unease ripples through my bones as distant chatter from the Summit’s banquet breakfast filters into my ears.
It’s been weeks now and nothing. No more hacked stereos.
No more electronics on the fritz. No emails or calls or cryptic letters.
Nothing. It’s like she vanished into thin air.
And that’s a problem. How can we prepare for something when we can’t see it coming?
“Are you texting with Damon?” Emery asks, leaning over my shoulder as she tries to get a glimpse of the screen.
"No, just work emails," I reply quickly, pocketing my phone.
If there’s no news, what’s the point of bringing it up?
Emery has made it clear she’s not afraid of Toni or what she’s capable of doing.
I’m alone in this fight. At least she agreed to hire the bodyguards.
It’s not an ideal solution. Not for long.
But it’s enough for now. Until we catch her. Until she’s behind bars.
Emery expels a heavy sigh. "Oh. I thought maybe Damon texted you. He's been ignoring me."
I frown. "He’s been ignoring you?"
She takes out her phone, showing me the messages between the two of them. I scan through the texts, realizing how brief Damon's responses have been. "Well…technically, he’s replying.”
Emery's frustration is palpable as she snatches her phone back. "The letter 'K' is not a reply. A thumbs-up emoji is not a reply.” She crosses her arms defensively. “Liking my message isn’t a reply.”
I rein in a knowing chuckle. "Darling, you text like that.”
Emery scowls. "But Damon doesn't. He's a rambler.
This," she gestures to her phone. "This isn't rambling." She expels a labored rumble. “We shouldn’t have left him. He’s probably at home all alone sinking into a deep depression. I mean, I wouldn’t blame him. He hasn’t had the best couple of years, has he?”
I briefly glance around the banquet hall, weighing whether I should risk showing Emery affection in a room full of worldwide executives. I know she made rules for this weekend but fuck it. I don't care. She can be mad at me later. I place a tender hand over her shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
“It’s okay, Emery. I’m worried about him too.” I motion to the lobby. “Why don’t we go give him a ring? A video call?”
Emery thinks about my offer for a moment before nodding, and I hope that seeing his face, alive and well, will alleviate her concern. At least temporarily.
I lead Emery to a secluded area in the lobby, away from prying eyes and ears. Praying he answers, I video call Damon.
The line rings for a few seconds before Damon's face appears on the screen, his expression already somber. "What's wrong?"
I lift a brow, frowning at I scan Damon’s surroundings. He outside. The wind whistles faintly through the speaker. A dog barks. At least he’s outside, not cooped up in his self-imposed prison.
"Nothing’s wrong," I say hesitantly, not wanting to make it seem like a mental health check. “We just wanted to say hi.”
"Hi," Damon replies flatly, his gaze shifting slightly.
“How are you?” Emery asks, her smile weak and worried. “We miss you.”
Damon clears his throat. “I’m good, yeah. Just, uh, just at the park.”
“That’s good,” Emery says. “Fresh air and—”
“Bones! No, leave it!” a feminine voice exclaims in the background.
Damon winces. “Yeah, it stopped raining this morning, so I’m—”
Emery leans closer to the screen, frowning. "Who was that?"
Damon swallows, his tone wavering slightly.
"No one, just a random person," he says quickly, a hint of discomfort in his voice. "Listen, I've got to go, but I appreciate the call.” His gaze shifts to me. “Good luck with your speech tonight.” Back to Emery. "I’ll, uh… I’ll call you later, okay? I love you. Bye.”
Emery's frown deepens as Damon ends the call. "Is he cheating on me?"
I snort softly, blinking at her reaction. "You heard a woman's voice and your first thought is that he's cheating? Darling, give Damon some credit. He may be the world’s biggest tool, but he’s loyal to those he loves.” I playfully bop her nose. “And he loves you.”
Emery sighs, her shoulders slumping. "I just... I feel bad. I keep trying to help him, but I feel like I'm always making it worse. He's in such a dark place, and I-I feel so happy. It's unfair.”
I place a comforting hand on her arm and press a soft kiss against her temple.
"You're not responsible for Damon's happiness, Emery. It’s not on you to fix him. He's going through a rough time, and sometimes, all we can do is be there for support. You’re doing the best you can, and so is he.” I pull away and offer her a reassuring smile. “Plus, he’s outside. That’s a good sign, right? ”
“I guess…” She leans into my chest and adds in a grumble. “Even if it is with another woman.”
I roll my eyes. “Trust me, Emery. You’re enough woman to last him a lifetime.”
The spotlight shines down on me as I bring my keynote presentation to an end. There are dozens of people in the crowd, yet I only see her. She’s like the sun, impossible to ignore. Always there. Giving me life.
The room erupts in applause, and Emery beams up at me. Her smile is wide, so proud and unfiltered. My gaze shifts to Amir, who lets out a theatrical sigh and rolls his eyes but there's no disdain in his features, only hints of playfulness.
With a sharp breath, I offer my peers a gracious smile before exiting the stage and shaking several billion-dollar hands as I make my way through the conference room toward Emery.
Stopping by the table, I flash her a cheeky grin. "So? How'd I do?"
Before Emery can reply, Amir presses a dramatic hand over his chest and groans. "You were so boring, Quinny boy, I almost drowned in the soup.” He dips a pinky into his bowl and licks it. "Mmm. Death by butternut squash. What a miserable way to go."
I cock my head, feigning a glare. "And yet you somehow survived. How unfortunate for us all."
Emery shoots me a look of disapproval, which I wave off. In the last forty-eight hours, I’ve discovered that Amir is…tolerable. Plus, I don’t mind watching men flirt with Emery. Quite frankly, it’s a major turn-on.
With a loaded sigh, Amir stands up, scanning the ballroom.
"Well, I'd say this trip has been fun so far, but that would be a lie.
The median age here appears to be 102, and if I'm being honest, they're all duds.
" He glances between Emery and me. "I've decided to throw a party in my suite. I take it you'll attend?"
Emery winces slightly. "A party? I don’t really—"
I cut in with a grin. "Emery isn't particularly a fan of social gatherings." Emery shoots me a glare, and I raise a playful eyebrow. “What? Am I wrong?”
Emery turns back to Amir, adorably defiant. "We'll be there."
"Great!" Amir claps his hands, already beginning to waltz away. "I'll see you up there."
Emery blinks in surprise. "Wait, like now?"
"Yup!" Amir sings over his shoulder. "Now!"
As soon as Amir is out of sight, I cross my arms, grinning down at Emery. "We'll be there?"
Emery glowers at me. "I suppose so."
I chuckle softly. "But you hate parties."
"Yes," Emery admits, standing up and brushing a crumb off her backless black evening gown. "But I hate people speaking for me even more."
My lips part slightly, my tongue grazing the inside of my bottom lip as I take in Emery's jaw-dropping curves. Christ. "I'd argue with you, darling, but I find myself rather...distracted."
Emery smirks, her lips forming a coy pout. "You like the dress?"
I lean in close, whispering in her ear with a low murmur, "I much prefer what’s underneath.”
She swallows hard as my lips graze her lobe. “Well, that’s too bad,” she whispers, but there’s restraint in her tone. “We’ve got a party to attend.”
My hand wraps around her waist, my palm resting on her warm skin as I caress her with my thumb. “A room full of powerful men never stopped you before, darling.”
A shiver dances up Emery’s spine as she arches, a beautiful little moan rumbling at the back of her throat. “This isn’t the club, Quin,” she breathes. “I highly doubt this bunch will be…discreet.”
My touch becomes possessive, firm, as I pull her flush against my side. Every ounce of my self-control is tested as I peer down into her sparkling green eyes. “I know one man who’d be discreet.” I smirk. “And I’m sure he wouldn’t say no to a show.”
Understanding floods Emery’s lustful gaze. “You want to give Mr. Hadid a private show?”
I hitch a casual shoulder. “He’s like me. He likes to watch.”
She bites her lip, and I know she’s thinking about Damon and whether or not he’d approve. But we’ve agreed to the rules. We’re each our own man. And she’s her own woman. How we decide to play together is up to us.
“Fine,” she says, cheeks slightly rosy. “But we do it in my room. On my terms.” She nods toward the exit. “Maybe a personalized invitation would be more appropriate?”
I smirk. “How very professional of you.”
Emery rolls her eyes as I guide her out of the conference room and toward the elevator. My hand lingers on the small of her back, relishing the feel of her soft, supple skin. The elevator doors open, and we step inside.
Emery’s breath hitches as she leans against the mirrored wall, her gaze locked with mine. “I’m kind of…nervous. We’ve never done this before.”
I close the distance between us, my lips brushing against hers. “He won’t touch you, darling,” I murmur. “He’ll only watch.” My lips feather a trail down the slope of her neck. “And I know he won’t be able to look away.”
The elevator pings open and we spill out onto Amir’s floor.
There’s a faint echo of chatter and music coming from his room.
Emery’s hand slips into mine as we enter the suite, and I grin, impressed.
If anyone can throw a last-minute party, it’s Amir Hadid.
I glance around the room. Half of these women look like professional entertainers.
Although, I suppose that’s entirely up Hadid’s alley.
Within a few seconds, Amir spots us and waves enthusiastically, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Welcome, my friends!” Amir exclaims, guiding us toward the center of the room. “I’m so glad you could make it.” Amir leans into us conspiratorially, his voice low as his gaze flickers between Emery and me. “I have something special planned for tonight.”
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? It just so happens we have something special planned as well.”
Amir narrows his curious eyes. “Is that so?”
I smirk at him. “You first.”
Amir purses his lips, looking between us. “Acrobatic stripper. Your turn.”
“Go on, darling,” I whisper to Emery. “Tell him.”
Emery’s lips curve into a seductive smile as she turns to Amir, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “We were wondering…” She glances up at me briefly, and I give a nod of encouragement. “We were wondering if you were interested in…taking in a show tonight?”
Amir raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. “A show?”
“Mhmm…” Emery tilts her head. “A very…private show. I know you’ve said I’m not your…type. But perhaps that doesn’t apply to a…viewing.”
Amir’s throat bobs. I stifle a laugh. It may as well be Christmas for him. “And what time—” He coughs. “And what time does this show start?”
“Give me twenty minutes,” she says, batting her lashes. “The star needs a costume change.”
Amir tosses me a hesitant look. “I better not get punched in the face for this. I know lover boy isn’t as keen to sharing as you are.”
I snort. “Your million dollar nose is safe, Hadid.”
He feigns consideration for a second too short before clapping his hands. “Now it’s a party.”
Emery tugs on my sleeve, pulling me down. She whispers in my ear, “Leather or lace?”
“Surprise me.”
And with a wink, she exits Amir’s suite, Larry and Barry on her tail.
“I’m starting to really like her,” Amir mutters. Out loud, unfortunately.
I cast him a hardened glare. “You can look, Hadid. But you can never touch.”
He playfully throws his hands up in the air. “Hey, she’ll be my Mona Lisa for life.”
He’s right. She is the Mona Lisa.
Priceless.