“It’s probably just a fraction of what she will receive from Alexandre in a separate, private transaction,” Henrik said. “But only if things go to plan.”
Marius chuckled bitterly. “Well, they aren’t.”
“For the record, Celeste, I’m not to blame this time,” Mina huffed bitterly at the screen.
“She can’t hear you,” Gen pointed out.
“I wish she could,” Mina growled.
The bids continued inching up, surpassing €90,000.
“€91,000,” the astonished auctioneer read from his screen.
If a vampire’s looks could kill, Celeste would have been facedown in a pool of blood.
“I wouldn’t want to be Celeste now,” Bene muttered. “Anatole’s boss will be furious if this deal doesn’t go through.”
Gen shivered. “Maybe he’ll send her after whoever buys the painting.”
Henrik snorted. “More probably, he’ll feed her to his coven.”
Gen paled. “Would he?”
Henrik gave her an obnoxious look that said,Sometimes, I marvel that you’re still alive.
He had a point, but I would take Gen’s good heart and optimism over his dark, gloomy soul any day.
“€92,000,” the auctioneer acknowledged Anatole’s bid.
Anonymous countered immediately with €93,000.
“Someone really wants that painting,” Bene muttered.
The auctioneer looked at Anatole. “Do I have €94,000?”
Everyone in the room stared, giving him more attention than any self-respecting vampire liked.
Gripping the armrests of his chair tightly, Anatole nodded.
“I have €94,000,” Monsieur Robert acknowledged.
Anonymous came back with €95,000.
Anatole paced around the back of the room with his phone at his ear.
“Much as I love to see him sweat, something tells me this will only make things harder for us,” Marius muttered.
I had the same sinking feeling. Gordon wanted us to identify who was interested in the painting, assuming there would only be one party. Now, we had a vampireandan anonymous bidder to hunt down.
“I say we go to Plan B,” Bene said. “Grab the painting and run.”
I grabbed my phone and texted Gordon.Any word on the anonymous bidder?
He called back, because why miss the opportunity to bark at me personally?
“No word on Anonymous yet. But whatever happens, do not let that painting out of your sight. Do you hear me?” he thundered.
“Benedict suggests Plan B, sir,” I said.
