Page 111 of The Scarab's Game

The assistant left Dante and me in the small room off to the side of the auction. Like the rest of the Casino, it was carved directly from the rock. The ceiling hung low, creating an intimate, if somewhat claustrophobic, atmosphere. The soft lighting cast eerie shadows across the rough-hewn surfaces, accentuating the natural contours of the rock.

There were only two doors. One led back to the auction, the other presumably to the water door Emmett had mentioned earlier.

I studied Dante, trying to reconcile Emmett’s warnings and the charming man who’d whisked me off to Monte Carlo for the job of a lifetime. If he was truly as evil as Emmett suspected, why would he have helped me expose the painting? But then again, he’d let it get this far. Was this all just an elaborate act to cover for his father?

Dante planted his hands on his hips, staring after the departed assistant. His jaw clenched, betraying his irritation. “They won’t be happy to hear about this.”

“They?” Did I want to know who?

“You look beautiful tonight.” Dante turned to face me, his expression softening slightly. “I neglected to mention it earlier.”

Seriously? After everything that had gone on, was that really all he had to say? “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing?—”

“Me?” Dante jabbed a finger at his chest, his eyes hardening again. “Marone. Of everyone here, I’m the?—”

“Jenn,” a familiar voice cut through our exchange. We both turned to see Noah standing in the doorway to the auction room.

A jolt of panic ignited in my chest, and I scanned the area behind him, searching the crowd for Emmett. Where was he? He wouldn’t have left me here if it wasn’t safe, would he?

The door closed behind Noah, and my first reaction was to run back through. But I needed answers.

Noah blew out a deep breath as he approached, his gaze intense. “What lies did Emmett tell you about me?”

Dante looked between Noah and me, his brows knitting together. “You two know each other?”

“Yeah, I’ve known this lying asshole for six years.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Minus the two years we all thought he was dead.”

Noah’s expression tightened at my words, but he turned to Dante. “Can you give me a couple of minutes with her?”

Dante angled his head toward the door. “We can all return to the auction and speak there.”

“I have things to…” Noah’s head bowed, as though he were fighting to push out the right words. “I’d like to speak with Jenn privately.”

Dante raised his eyebrows to ask for my approval. When I nodded, he said, “I’ll be right outside the door.”

Once the door shut behind Dante, I was alone with Noah. The little voice in the back of my head that wanted to leave grew louder.

“Scarlett doesn’t understand. I’ve tried explaining everything to her.” Noah ran his hands through his hair, frustration etched across his face. His voice was low, almost pleading. “I told you to leave. I said the same thing to Emmett—that it’s too dangerous here—but he abandoned you for his job.”

“What are you talking about?” I crossed my arms, attempting to project defiance, while I was actually disguising a subtle tremor. “How could you possibly know what Emmett said or did?”

He took a step closer, and I instinctively backed away. “Jenn, please. I didn’t remember anything for the first several months after the accident. And after that? I stayed quiet to keep Scarlett safe.” He held his hands out, palms up, begging me to understand. “You have to believe me.”

I studied his face, searching for any sign of deception, but I’d never been able to tell when a man lied to me. I saw pain, a raw vulnerability that tugged at my heart despite my better judgment. “Then tell me the truth, and I’ll give them the details.”

Noah nodded, relief washing over his features. “I wasn’t behind what happened to Emmett—the kidnapping. I had to go along with it, or they’d find me out.”

“So, whowasbehind it?”

“Did they tell you about Enzo?” Noah asked, his eyes darting to the far door as if checking we were still alone. “The man with the scar?”

I held my shaking arms tighter, remembering the overwhelming urge I’d had to bolt from the gallery workshop when Enzo had checked in on me. I nodded slowly.

Noah glanced at his watch, a flicker of urgency crossing his face. “Did Emmett tell you why Reynolds is here?”

“We were talking about Enzo.”

“They’re stealing the scarab,” Noah blurted out.

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