Page 58 of Heart of a Devil

Thirty-Two

SEBASTIAN

Idon’t think I’ve ever felt so out of place in my whole life, and that includes the time I went to a birthing class with Samantha and practiced deep breathing to a soundtrack of whale song. I glance up from the glass-coated display cases and smile nervously at the assistant, Meredith. She tosses her glossy blond hair over her shoulder and smiles back, revealing her shiny white teeth. She’s exactly the kind of girl I would have gone for not so long ago.

These days, though, all I see when I look at her is a woman I have no interest in fucking. She could climb over that counter and beg me, and I still wouldn’t be tempted. Maybe that’s why she’s here, as a bit of a honey pot. If a customer can’t resist her charms, he really shouldn’t be in this store at all. We’re tucked away in an exclusive corner of London, and it’s not the kind of place you pop into to browse. Inside, it’s all dark wood and plush carpet, antique furniture, and a swanky drinks cabinet stocked with top-shelf liquor. Appointments are required, and only one customer at a time is allowed in. Right now, that customer is me.

“What kind of jewelry does she normally wear?” Meredith asks. “Have you gifted her anything in the past that she especially likes?”

“Uh…” I shake my head. “It’s been what you might call a whirlwind romance, so nothing like that. In terms of what she wears now, it’s pretty simple. I’ve seen her in a plain gold chain with a little cross on it, and one of those, what do you call them, tennis bracelets? But none of it’s been especially flashy.”

“And what kinds of clothes does she go for?”

“For work, very plain, but also stylish—little black dresses and suits that look simple, but probably cost a fortune. When she’s on a night out, though, there’s a bit more bling. And a lot less material.”

“Ah. She sounds like a classy woman who knows how to let her hair down, then.”

“That’s it exactly,” I say, getting out my phone. “This is her, if it helps.”

Meredith gazes at the picture and smiles appreciatively. “Congratulations. She’s stunning. And this does help, because now I have an idea of skin tone.”

I decided I was going to ask Lauren to marry me on our last night in the cabin. She blows my mind and thrills my body, and she fills my soul. No other woman has ever come close, and it seems just plain stupid to pretend I’m anything other than crazy about her. It’s no secret that I’ve been engaged before, so this whole ring-buying process shouldn’t be a mystery to me. The difference is, with the last five women, I didn’t care that much. I bought them flashy diamonds from the same store each time, a bog-standard place on the high street. Last time I was there, the owner joked he should give me a loyalty card so I could collect stamps toward the next one.

This time, everything is different. This time it’s real, and I want the ring I choose for Lauren to reflect that. Nothing in this place comes with a visible price tag, which I should be worried about—it’s probably along the lines of “if you have to ask theprice, you can’t afford it.” But I only want the best for her, no matter how much it costs.

Meredith has made me a coffee, and I sip it as she selects various trays from the cases and pulls individual rings from them. She assembles a new tray for me, with five choices laid out on black velvet. All of them are gorgeous, but one in particular catches my eye. It’s tiny on my palm and relatively simple with a huge red stone and little diamonds winking around it.

“Ah. A good choice, Mr. Donovan. A ruby would look beautiful on her.”

“Yeah. She does like red.”

In particular, she likes red underwear, but I keep that to myself. I don’t want to let those kinds of images into my brain right now or poor Meredith will be getting an eyeful.

“Did you know that precious stones have symbolic value?” she asks. “Going back to ancient times. In the case of the ruby, it’s associated with passion, protection, and energy.” She looks me up and down and gives me a cheeky smile. “I’m guessing that all fits for you two as a couple.”

“Do you make that shit up to suit the customer?” I ask, grinning.

“Of course not. Now, do you want me to put this on hold for you, give you time to think?”

I gaze down at the beautiful ring in my hand and imagine sliding it onto Lauren’s finger. Okay, so there’s the small matter of asking her first, and if there’s one thing I can predict about my girl, it’s that she can be unpredictable. But it feels right. My gut says yes, and my mouth soon follows. “Nah. I’ll take it. How many kidneys am I going to need to sell?”

“At least one, and possibly a lung, but I’m sure she’s worth it. This is made in the average size, but if you want to find out hers, obviously we can adjust it for her. I’d suggest sneaking into her jewelry box and stealing a ring, then bringing it here for us tolook at. Or, obviously, just asking her—but that seems a lot less fun.”

She’s not joking about the kidney, and I could probably pay for the wedding, the honeymoon, and a brand-new Audi for the same amount as this one piece of jewelry. But I can’t bring myself to give a shit. I’ve never felt more sure of anything as Meredith takes payment and boxes it up for me.. I haven’t told a soul—I know what Sam and Gabriel would say, and who could blame them? They’ve seen this all before on too many occasions. But this is different.

We’re finishing up when a call comes through on my cell from Sasha Stepanov. Sasha and I have been talking a lot recently as the Ivan Volkov situation has grown more pressing. Caroline found travel documents in his briefcase that showed he was planning a ten-day trip to Albania. I don’t want to imagine what he’s doing there or how many lives he might be destroying—that could be a question for another day if Sasha has anything to do with it, but for now, our focus is on Caroline and Nicky.

As soon as Caroline was confident he was gone and staying gone, Lauren filed the legal papers. That was three days ago. Even though it’s been done under her assumed name, I still feel twitchy about her being in his home with his men. I want to get them out now. Everything could all too easily go bad. Getting to this stage has been a long, drawn-out process with too many false starts, and I don’t trust him to stay away. Like most predators, he probably has some lizard-brain instinct that’s warned him she’s up to something, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he comes home early or if he’s instructed his people to keep her under close watch while he’s away.

Irina and her husband, Vladimir, are fully on board, and along with Sasha, they came up with a plan to place a sedative in the guards’ food. Tomorrow night, when Irina serves them their evening meal, there will be an extra little seasoning in theform of horse tranquilizer. Never make an enemy of the cook, I suppose.

Once that’s done, Vladimir is going to drive all four of them to Archangel, and we’ll take it from there. Sasha has ulterior motives—this is undoubtedly part of a bigger power play on his part—but he also seems to get a great deal of personal satisfaction from helping the victims.

“Sebastian,” he says as soon as I answer. “We have a problem.”

“That’s not what I want to hear. How big a problem?”

“Vladimir and Irina are dead.”

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