Bene gave me a murderous look. I shrugged, waiting.
Gordon took a hell of a long time answering. So long, I had to speak up again.
“Sir, please advise. Do you want us to secure the asset or maintain surveillance?”
Secure the asset,Gen’s eyes pleaded.
I felt for her, but I also knew the risks that came with that kind of action. Did she?
“Do I have €96,000?” the auctioneer asked Anatole.
He cupped a hand over his mouth, whispering urgently over the phone.
“Last call, sir,” the auctioneer offered. “I have €95,000. Will you bid?”
I held my breath, waiting for Gordon to respond.
Anatole stared at the phone, then stuck it in his pocket and shook his head.No.He strode out of the shop, furious, with a very flustered Celeste on his heels.
“Sold to bidder 2641 for €95,000,” the auctioneer announced.
I gripped my phone harder, impatient for Gordon’s reply. “How would you like to proceed, sir?”
Grab Dad’s painting,Gen’s expression begged.
Gordon waited a split second longer, then grunted, “Maintain surveillance.”
I hung up and stood, exchanging wary looks with Marius.
I don’t like this,I muttered into his mind.
He scowled.Typical Gordon shitshow. What’s to like?
Nothing. Especially knowing how Gen and Mina would react.
Chapter Eighteen
GENEVIÈVE
“Boy, does Anonymous move fast,” Bene observed, watching the live stream on our screen.
The moment bids on the painting closed, two men entered the shop and flashed IDs at Monsieur Robert. He typed into the device to interface with Anonymous, then released the painting into their custody.
“That meanswehave to move fast.” Roux pointed to Mina and Marius. “You two — follow the painting. Wherever it goes, you go.”
They nodded and hurried outside.
“Henrik, follow Anatole,” Roux barked, and off went the vampire without so much as an eye roll.
Roux turned to Bene next.
“Stand by inside the antique shop to see if anyone asks questions about Anonymous or shows any unusual interest in that transaction.”
“Roger,” Bene affirmed, taking off.
I stared, impressed. Starting any task at the château came with a certain amount of foot-dragging and cajoling, or at least a show of resistance. Now, the gang jumped into action like a well-oiled machine.
“What do I do?” I asked.
