Page 8 of Wild Card
Talia Brandt.
Wife of none other than Dalton Brandt, the silver-haired overlord of the Citadel. She’s stepping into the elevator wearing a slinky black dress, sunglasses the size of dinner plates, and on her neck—clear as day—is the sapphire necklace. One of the Weeping Jewels.
“No way,” I breathe, leaning closer. “She’s wearing the damn necklace.”
Aria stares at the screen like she’s trying to melt it with her mind. “She wasn’t even on the guest list for the exhibit preview that night. That wing was restricted.”
“Which means either she bypassed security,” I say, “or someone let her in.”
Aria lets out a breath through her nose. “Of all the people…”
We both just stare at the screen for a moment before I say it?—
“Well, maybe the curse doesn’t apply to her.”
Aria looks at me sideways. “Why’s that?”
“Because being married to Dalton Brandt hasgotto be worse than any ancient jewel curse.”
She snorts. “Fair point. That woman’s probably been cursed since the prenup.”
We both laugh, and for a second, the tension between us slips away again—just two people standing over a screen, caught off guard by a ridiculous, totally unexpected twist.
Then the reality sets in.
“We need to talk to her,” Aria says, her voice turning serious. “Figure out how she got access, if she’s still in possession of the piece, and if she knows anything about the rest.”
I nod slowly, watching the footage rewind and play again. “Yeah. We need to interview her.”
Silence. Neither of us moves. Neither of us wants to go anywhere near Talia Brandt.
She’s beautiful, terrifying, unpredictable, and somehow manages to make everyone in a ten-foot radius feel like they’re on trial for tax evasion. She’s also notorious for pretending not to know people she’s met twelve times—and for having zero filter when it comes to insults wrapped in compliments. And her husband could have us fired in seconds.
“You first,” I say.
Aria shoots me a look. “Oh no. This was your discovery.”
“Exactly. I’ve done my part. Discovery ends at documentation.Interviewingher falls to… intelligence operations.” I nod toward her. “You.”
She narrows her eyes. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it together.”
I sigh like it pains me. “Fine. But if she tries to seduce me to get out of answering questions, I’m blaming you.”
Aria rolls her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I’m just saying,” I grin, “if I end up cursed by proximity, I want hazard pay.”
She shuts down the screen, already grabbing her jacket. “Come on, Romeo. Let’s go see if the queen of the Citadel knows anything about jewel theft… or if she’s just playing dress-up with stolen artifacts.”
As we head for the elevator, I glance at Aria. She doesn’t look thrilled—but neither am I. Still, I can’t deny it— we make a damn good team, even when we’re walking straight into the lion’s den.
CHAPTER
FOUR
ARIA
The Brandt estatelooks like it was designed by someone who walked into the Bellagio and said,“Yes, but make it bigger.”
