Page 79 of City Of Thieves
“She’s called ‘Mary’,” I say, soaking in her happiness. “I hope she goes part of the way in making up for what I did to her sister.”
With everything that was happening in London, I’d shoved the gallery, the debt, and the painting to the back of my mind…
But Renzo kept his half of the bargain.
I’d received a message as I was crossing the Hudson from my assistant, Erika. A wooden crate had arrived for me fromRegency’s. When I checked the shipping note, I realized he’d sent it the moment he bought it. Even before that first night when he’d propositioned me, but for once I’m not bothered about being a foregone conclusion.
“Where did you find her?” she asks in wonder, her beautiful face flushed with excitement.
“Auction house last week…” I trail off when I notice her staring intently at something on the back of the canvas. “Oh my God, Rick,” she exclaims. “It’s an original. It has the letter.”
“What letter?”
I watch them exchange a look before she’s slipping a hand into mine and tugging me to my feet. “Come with me. This won’t take long.”
Intrigued, I follow her into her study. There’s an empty space on the dove gray wall where ‘Ines’ used to hang. I don’t want to think about the last words that we exchanged in this room, but they’re still haunting it. They’re displayed on every surface… Suspended in every painting.
Wordlessly, Mom hangs the portrait in ‘Ines’ place, the size of the frame matching up perfectly with the faded square. Returning to my side, we gaze at it together for a moment.
“What’s her name?”
“‘Mary’.”
“I meant your daughter’s,” she clarifies softly. “I overheard what you said to your father in the lobby.”
“Anastasia.” I flinch as I feel her hand slipping into mine again, smashing the locks to my final box of secrets.
“Talk to me.”
I shake my head violently. “I can’t. I don’t know where to start.”
“Then start at the beginning, and I'll still be holding you at the end.”
Suddenly I can’t see ‘Mary’ anymore. My eyes are too full of tears.
“The first time was in Dad’s office…” I falter, before pushing myself to continue. “He had a sick sense of enjoyment over that. From then on it was always in seedy motel rooms, chosen to make me feel as dirty as possible.” She squeezes my hand tighter but doesn’t interrupt. “He’d pick me up on my way home from friends’ houses or school and hold his threats to my head like a loaded gun. I told so many lies to you, to Dad’s security team...”
“Oh God, Tatiana.”
I can’t do this. I’ve already hurt her enough.But again, she squeezes my hand. Refusing to let go.
Catching me as I fall.
I think of Renzo, then. I think of how he saw through all the layers of my varnish and found the dying woman underneath. How he’d pushed and pushed me until I’d cracked wide open for him.
“Where is she now?” she asks.
“He stole her from me, then sent me back to New York. He said he’d harm her if I ever made contact with my friends and family again.”
I hear her sharp intake of breath. “That’s why…?”
I nod and she starts to sway.
“We have a plan to get her back, but I need to speak to Seb.”
“Who do you mean by ‘we’?”
“Renzo Marchesi,” snarls my father, appearing in the doorway. “He’s the man who bought the painting at auction last week. I just had it confirmed… Christ, Tatiana,” he says, striding into the room. “How the fuck did you get involved with the mafia?”
