Page 123 of The Scarab's Game

“Your son stopped the painting auction,” Noah informed him, while not letting go of my arm.

Massimo muttered something in Italian, his face contorting into anger. His gaze locked onto me, and I felt myself shrink under its intensity. “That was your doing, was it not? You’ve poisoned my son.”

“Um… he…” I was going to be hurt while I was here, wasn’t I? He’d take something out on me.

There was a sharp crack.

Blinding pain.

Bright lights seared my eyeballs.

I clutched the spot where Enzo had backhanded me.

Noah jerked my arm, spinning me behind himself so he stood between me and Enzo. “Don’t touch her!”

“What are you going to do?” Enzo raised his chin, advancing on Noah. “Find another fire extinguisher?”

“So youdidknow it was me,” Noah said, his tone cocky despite the tension sucking the oxygen out of the air. “Well, let me be clear—you need to get some fucking control. Martine did us a favor by letting us in. How do you think she’ll react to you killing her guards?”

Enzo leaned in, his gravelly voice full of menace. “I should have thrown you and the skinny one into the pit in Venice.”

“Your impulsiveness is going to ruin everything.” Noah didn’t back down, countering Enzo’s intensity with confidence. “How many pieces of the phoenix would you have without me? So unless you’ve got something more impressive than framing an innocent man twenty years ago, shut up and do your fucking job.”

I cowered behind Noah. How was I relying on this man who, only a day ago, I thought was dead? Who’d thrown me over his shoulder and taken me—by force—out of the Casino Rocher?

Such shitty irony.

At least Simon never hit me. But hehadlied to me.

Tears blurred my vision. Again!

Everyonelied to me. Was I that gullible? That stupid?

You should have listened to your father.

“Come with me,” Noah said, guiding me from the garage onto the boat’s back deck. He kept himself between Enzo and me, a human shield I never thought I’d be grateful for.

As we stepped out into the night air, I squinted—sending a fresh wave of pain across my cheek—into the darkness, my eyes drawn to the museum in the distance.

Please, Emmett, please.

But then…

Was that…

Movement? Lights?Yes!Lights flickered at the base of the Rocher, just below the museum.

Noah followed my gaze, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Ahh! They’re on their way.”

Theywerecoming for me.

But what would Enzo—or the other men with the guns—do when they got here?

Chapter 46

Emmett

I leaned forwardon the speedboat, my knuckles white as I gripped the windshield frame. My gaze remained fixed on the yacht ahead.

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