Page 100 of The Scarab's Game

“Something like that.”

The idea of selling stolen art didn’t sit well with me, so Emmett’s mission to return the scarab to its rightful owner made me proud.

Midway through the second room, Emmett stopped and flicked his gaze up to the windows of Martine’s office. “I need to speak with her for a moment.” He gestured to a doorway built into the cavern wall opposite the office. “Why don’t you go into the auction room and wait for me inside?”

I placed my hands on his chest, sliding them to the nape of his neck. “I’ll miss you.”

Emmett ran his fingers down my arms and kissed me. It was chaste, a kiss that wouldn’t mess up my lipstick, but it lingered, as much breath as lip. When we parted, he scanned my face, his gentle smile warming me from the inside. He’d been so vulnerable and honest with me since I’d moved into the suite. Somehow, I’d grown to want him even more than I had before.

“I’ll see you inside,” Emmett said, kissing my cheek before leaving.

As I watched him go, the same thoughts that had been trying to creep in all afternoon pushed into my brain. ‘It was your father,’ Emmett had said. My father had chased Emmett away. How could he have done that to me? My parents let me believe Emmett had simply lost interest, but my father was behind it the whole time.

Although, it shouldn’t have surprised me.

How different might my life have been if my father hadn’t interfered? What if Emmett and I had been given a shot?

Honestly? You were fifteen. It likely wouldn’t have worked out, anyway. Sure, some people stayed with their high school sweethearts all their lives, but would that have been us? Or would we have dated, broken up, and ruined my friendship with Scarlett?

Maybe it had been for the best, after all, and now we had a chance to try again?

You’re getting ahead of yourself, Jenn. It’s only been a day.

I headed to the auction room, presented my invitation to the security guard, and went inside. It was more of the natural cavern, with a lower ceiling than the main rooms, but also decorated with elaborate chandeliers. Rows of chairs were set up near the front, while various objects were displayed near the back. Obvious security guards lined the walls, sweeping the room with their eyes.

Soft, stringed music melded with the voices surrounding me, playing from hidden speakers. At the front, the auction block stood higher than the chairs, with large screens above it, looping through items for the auction.

A server greeted me with champagne. “Bonsoir, madame.”

“Good evening,” I said, both advising him I spoke English and accepting the drink.

He nodded. “The auction items are on display until the auction begins. Then our staff will move everything to the storage area, where they will be prepared for pickup or delivery to the winners after the auction is completed and payment is confirmed.” He handed me an auction catalog from his tray. “No digital devices are allowed inside the Casino Rocher, so you may use this to follow along.”

I thanked him and began flipping through the pages. Once I found the listing for the scarab, I wandered over to look at the tiny item in person. Two million euros to start. Amazing. And five of Emmett’s team members came to Monaco for it.

What were they doing as support while he and Drew were here? Why so many of them, when the entire job had been Emmett talking to people, and tonight bidding on the item? Surely he could have done it alone.

Scarlett had always been vague about her job, which I took to mean she thought it was boring. It certainlyfeltboring. Not nearly as active or involved asmyjob.

Speaking of my job…

I searched for theWheatfieldpainting, eventually spotting it across the room.

Nervous energy swirled around my stomach as I stared at it.

Had Dante been honest about Massimo mixing up the paintings and ensuring the right one made it to the auction? Should I check it out? What if it was still the fake? What would I do? WhatcouldI do if I didn’t want to get kicked out?

Curiosity won out, and I moved through the crowd.

Some people smiled as I passed, while others looked me up and down. I gripped my black studded clutch tighter. I didn’t belong among these people with such blatant wealth—so many diamonds and exotic leathers.

You’re wearing five figures’ worth of designer clothes, Jenn. You belong.

At least, I looked like I belonged.

Five feet away fromWheatfield, my heart sank. The B and L in the signature didn’t quite touch, which was the error in the copy. Even from so far away, it was unmistakable. Dante had lied. Probably told me to stay quiet about the painting and assumed I wouldn’t attend.

Emmett was right again.

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