Page 9 of Scarlett Thief (Criminal Underground 2)

"Are you being blackmailed to be here as well?" I asked.

"No." Just that one simple word, but it held a wealth of meaning. No, he wasn't being blackmailed to perform. Not like I was. He was on one side and I was on the other.

"I see." And that was it. If he wanted honesty from me now, that would come at a price. I had hoped not to have to try to escape or kill him tonight. I had stayed his non-enemy for the last several years for a reason, after all. It wouldn't do to be on the wrong side of his trigger.

"Here we are," he said a moment later as we strode into a large library. Two men—one lounging on a deep gray couch, and the other standing against a wall of books with his massive arms crossed over an equally large barrel chest—looked up as we entered. "Now that everyone has arrived, shall we head to the courtyard?"

I eyed the men, starting with the one against the wall. He was built wide, all muscles and brawn. A thick, rugged blond stubble covered the lower half of his face. The rustic appeal wasn't something I was used to. Most of the men I saw daily were in affluent circles—some more prone to the criminal echelon than others. Men of wealth often tried to appear younger with perfectly cut and tailored suits and clean shaven faces. Not so with this man. It didn't appear as though he cared at all about appearances if the jeans, scuffed up boots, and black T-shirt were anything to go by.

The second man, however, was exactly the type I was used to. He wore black slacks, not unlike Gaven’s. He was dressed impeccably well with a thick watch on his wrist—a gold toned Versace Palazzo Empire which meant he had money. What he did, however, remained a mystery. His lips tipped up in a half smile as he rose to his feet and lifted his head, his eyes catching mine. Full, masculine lips twitched in amusement as he realized what I was doing.

"See something you like, sweetheart?" he inquired with a sardonic grin.

I arched a brow. "Depends."

"On?" he asked lightly as Gaven pushed the door open and held it for me. I turned and strode toward it, listening to the following sounds of their footsteps.

Tossing strands of dark hair over one shoulder, I glanced back. "On whether or not you're involved with this Mr. Black."

His amused expression darkened immediately, and his rueful grin turned significantly more predatory. "Unfortunately, I am,” he said with a cold look, eyeing me. “But I believe it’s the same type of involvement that’s brought you here.” He strode forward, coming up alongside me as Gaven moved ahead. “Tell me something, Princess,” he continued. “What did a pretty thing like you do to be blackmailed? Are you in need of rescuing?”

Well, that answered my question. He wasn’t one of Mr. Black’s hired men, not like Gaven—or if he was, he was a plant, meant to lie his way into my good graces. It wouldn’t work.

“I believe I can rescue myself, thank you,” I said coldly, moving ahead.

My eyes slid to the third man, walking a bit slower than the rest of us, hovering in the background like a shadowy behemoth. I could sense his growing irritation. Unlike the Casanova at my side and Gaven, he wasn’t trying at all to hide his anger. His mouth was pressed into a firm line, but his eyes never strayed from the back of Gaven's head.

As I watched him, I noticed that he moved quietly despite his size. He casually scanned the area from side to side, striding with a steadiness that spoke of his confidence. If I had to guess he was used to watching and waiting.A mercenary, perhaps? It wouldn’t surprise me if he was.

Who were these men?I wondered absently as I returned my attention to the man at my side. With hair as dark as mine, he looked younger than the other man, and he moved gracefully, not as cautiously as the other. If I had to hazard a guess, these two were in a similar predicament as me, and that, too, brought with it a whole slew of questions I doubted would be answered anytime soon.

Gaven approached a set of double glass doors, and from the other side, two servants reached out and pulled them open just before he reached the threshold. Stopping just past the doorway, he turned and gestured out into what appeared to be a lavish courtyard with a concrete table laden with a beautiful silk tablecloth and giant floral centerpieces.

"Gentlemen," Gaven nodded, "and lady," he winked my way, "if you'll find your nameplates and take your seats, we'll begin with the appetizers."

My gaze cut to the side as I passed him and circled the table until I came across my nameplate. A quick glance to my right and my left determined that my fellow guests were named Wolf and … El Diablo? My eyes widened when the first man took his place in front of Diablo's nameplate while the larger mercenary man took the second in front of Wolf’s.

I sat gingerly in my seat and allowed myself to be pushed forward by an attendant. Gaven took the seat at the head of the table. My lips pressed together as I held back my questions. As difficult as it was, I knew now that this was a stage and we were all actors taking to our characters.

Whoever these men were, it was apparent they were like me. Criminals in danger. And criminals in danger could be highly volatile creatures.

Garrett appeared at Gaven's right as a few attendants came into the courtyard, pushing along a service cart. "The appetizers," he announced as silver platters were placed before us and their lids removed with a flourish. Despite the addition of new people and quick movements of the staff, no one looked down. Our attention remained centered squarely on the man watching the three of us with no small amount of amusement.

"What is this about, Belmonte?" the man to my left—Wolf—finally snapped. "I didn't come here for fancy finger foods. I want to know why I’m here. I’d specifically like to speak to Mr. Black."

"I'm afraid that's impossible," Gaven replied coolly, his expression remaining the same as Wolf released a growl in response. Despite my irritation, I found myself responding to that low sound. It slithered along my nerves and down into my nether regions. I crossed my legs and gently placed my hand over my lap, sliding a disconcerted look toward Wolf once before lifting my head to glare at Gaven.

"I’m afraid I have to agree, Gaven," I stated. "I know whyI'mhere, but I didn't expect there to be others. I’m beginning to suspect that this is a very careful orchestration on Mr. Black’s part.”

"Of course this is all orchestrated." Diablo sat forward as he set his elbows on the edge of the table and steepled his fingers together, his golden watch gleaming in the low light. His eyes focused on the head of the table. "You've been hired by this Mr. Black to bring the three of us here to this estate—which is owned by a multi-national corporation with ties to mafia syndicates across the globe. You're here to ensure his identity remains a mystery. Do you even know who he is?"

Gaven’s head tilted to the side and his amused expression deepened until a grin flirted at his lips. That amusement of his was beginning to grate on my nerves. It was as if our mounting irritation was a pleasant show for him.

"Perhaps," he replied. “Are you sure you don’t want something to eat before we discuss business?”

I clenched my fingers, letting the bite of my nails into my palms force a calmness back into my system. "I'm not here for the food, Gaven," I stated, my patience slowly leeching away. "I'm here for answers. Who is Mr. Black, and what the fuck does he want from me?"

"From us," Diablo added, cutting a look toward me before returning the brunt of his assessment back to Gaven.

Gaven picked up his fork and slid the tongs into one of the stuffed mushrooms on his plate. before lifting it and biting into it. He chewed and swallowed—making every second without answers feel as though it was being stretched into an eternity.

"The Harlington Estate has some of the best resources,” he mused. “It would be a shame to see it go to waste. The chef was flown in straight from a Michelin 5-Star restaurant in Paris—you were supposed to be there this weekend, isn't that right, Ms. Scarlett?" His head never turned, but his gaze found mine as his lips twitched.

Fucker, I thought. My gaze hardened.

"We're sure," Wolf growled even though he hadn’t been the one Gaven was speaking with.

Gaven took another bite and finished chewing before wiping his hands and leaning back. "Very well then," he said, "let's begin."

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