Page 71 of Legacy

No, something wasn’t right. A prickling sensation skittered along the back of my neck like eyes other than my security’s were on me.

Knowing never to question my instincts, I took a path closer to Besa and his men. I paused in front of a bicycle shaped out of old spoons. It was whimsical and amusing.

At the same time, a woman approached to study the piece. I’d noticed her earlier in passing but thought nothing of it. She tilted her head side to side and expelled little sighs and murmurs as though she were some great art critic.

God, if only Cali was here. She wouldn’t keep her mouth shut about this one. Our experiences with “art connoisseurs”in Prague were too many to count. We’d turned it into a game to pick out those who truly enjoyed art versus the fakers.

Go ahead, lady. The piece isn’t something I’d buy. I’ll stick to the glass.

I barely finished my snarky thought when she moved closer, stepping too near for comfort. Besa shifted as if to intervene, but I shook my head.

I couldn’t be in dangerhere, in public, in the daylight. Even if I were, I could handle it.

Deciding to be just as rude, I stared at her, taking her in, giving her my, as Laya called it, “bitch face.”

If she wanted something from me, she should come out and say so. I turned, facing her without changing my expression. At first glance, something seemed familiar about her, but no name or specific memory came to mind.

She was a natural beauty, years younger than me, closer to Laya’s age, with long glossy locks of a light chestnut. She wore a tailored black jumpsuit, accentuating a curvy, toned body. Her eyes were nearly black and held no kindness or feeling.

It was apparent she didn’t like me.

Something about her looked familiar. Perhaps I’d passed her in town, but nothing came to me. I couldn’t place her.

“I’m Francesca,” she stated as if I should know her.

Was she a local celebrity? Cali may know, or Laya.

When I gave her no reaction other than a head nod, a flash of irritation crossed her face before she schooled it away.

“Isn’t it a lovely design?” she asked, annoyed. Shegestured at the artwork, and I nodded again. “Such a masterpiece. All that blue. The incorporation of those tones with the theme…”

The theme of what? It is a fucking bike made out of spoons sitting on a blue tablecloth. What the hell are you talking about?

I remained quiet, letting her ramble about the piece. None of what she said matched the description provided by the artist, an environmentalist aiming to highlight the waste humans leave behind in the world.

After a few minutes, she asked, “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“I didn’t say.” I glanced at her. “Then again, you already know it.”

A crease formed between her perfectly arched brows. “You shouldn’t have come back.”

“Do I know you?” I asked in a tone one used with an errant child. “Did we meet in a different life? Let me guess, we weren’t friends.”

“The Vitalis name died fifteen years ago and needs to stay that way.” The venom in her words made me wonder if her hatred came from last week’s elimination.

“It never died. It’s time to relearn local history.” I kept my face an emotionless mask, and my focus trained on her.

The best way to poke at an unhinged being was to get them to act the fool.

She jabbed her finger at my face. “Mark my words, you and your sisters will regret returning.”

Fire burned under my skin, molten and ready to scorch.She could threaten me all she wanted, but not my sisters. I’d do it if it meant buying every piece in this gallery as I destroyed that pretty face.

The muscles in my hands quivered, ready to grab her hair and smash it into the masterpiece of blue.

“Listen, Francesca. Word to the wise. Stay out of matters that don’t concern you,” I warned. “I’m one enemy you can’t afford to make.”

“Itdoesconcern me.” She put her face in my space, clenching her teeth. “Elias is an idiot to downgrade to a woman like you.”

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