“Well, you just might not understand what you’re looking at,” he said. Connor arched an eyebrow.
“I’m pretty sure I do. And I still don’t understand why someone would buy this.”
“Art is subjective,” Alessia’s voice came from behind him, and Beaux looked relieved to see her. “It’s all about your personal perception. Clearly, this isn’t the piece for you.”
“I think I’ll go check on the rest of our guests,” Beaux said.
He hurried away and Alessia came to stand in front of Connor. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she didn’t look happy to see him, but she wasn’t nearly as pissed as she was two days ago when he showed up at the suicide hotline.
“Perception, huh?” He looked at the painting again, trying to imagine how anyone could perceive it differently.
“Art is supposed to make you feel something,” Alessia said. “Good or bad, that’s the goal.”
He couldn’t resist rolling his eyes at that romantic notion, but Alessia didn’t seem offended by his taste in art like Beaux did.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “Still stalking me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m here to check in on your progress. We can’t trust that your calls or texts are secure, so Owen sent me in person.”
Her eyes darted around before she jerked her head in the direction of a door nearby. “Come with me to my office,” she said.
He followed her through the door, and her office was a bright space with modern furniture. Everything seemed to gleam. The glass-topped desk had chrome legs and there was a matching shelf behind it with art history books. Surprisingly, she didn’t have any art on display in this space.
Alessia didn’t get behind her desk. She stopped in front of it and leaned against the front edge, crossing one foot over the other in a way that brought his attention to her toned legs, which were on full display with her black dress stopping mid-thigh.
“I haven’t been able to find anything yet,” she said, and he could tell that it bothered her to admit that. I snooped around my dad’s office yesterday, and there’s a locked drawer in his desk. I assume there might be something in there, but I couldn’t find the key.”
“Then go back and break into the desk.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to leave damage behind. It’s better if he doesn’t know anyone broke into the desk.”
Connor thought for a minute. The obvious answer was to pick the lock, but he was sure that if Alessia knew how to do that, she would have already. He knew how, but that would mean going right into Mancini’s house with a woman that he still didn’t trust.
But they needed to get access to that drawer. If he thought it was important enough to lock, it was probably a good idea to get in there.
“Alright. Take me there, and I’ll pick the lock.”
Alessia’s brown eyes widened. “Are you out of your mind? If we get caught, we’ll both be killed.”
Was she being dramatic, or did she believe her own father would kill her? Connor knew the guy was a ruthless bastard, but killing your kid was a whole different level of fucked up.
“Well, we’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” he said. “Can you think of any other way? And remember, the longer it takes us to find these women, the greater the chance that they’ll be sold to some pervert and be gone forever.”
Ifher story was true. If it wasn’t, he figured he’d use her as a hostage to get away. Either way, it was a risk, but at least they’d finally have some answers. If he could take care of this, then Owen wouldn’t have to worry about it. He had enough on his plate already.
“Fine,” Alessia said reluctantly. He could practically see the turmoil in her expression, but she obviously knew he was right. They needed to figure this out. The sooner, the better. “I’ll take you to my parents’ house tomorrow night when they’re not home.”
He nodded. One way or the other, tomorrow night was going to change things.
7
ALESSIA
This was a seriously bad idea. She was driving to her parents’ house while Connor laid down in the backseat, covered up with a blanket.
So many things could go wrong tonight, but, despite her reservations, she wasn’t backing out. She couldn’t stand the idea of women being auctioned off while she was dragging her feet, too afraid to act.
She had totry.Her parents went out to dinner tonight, so the house should be empty. When she pulled into the horseshoe driveway, it looked like she was right. The place was dark.
