"That's terrible," Damon says, his tone oozing false sympathy. "I'm so sorry you had to go through such trauma. I hope you find the culprit."
Pei's face twists with frustration as he adds, "As do we. Fortunately, the diamonds were insured, yet I doubt we will recover the full value."
Han shakes his head at his wife, berating her. "I should have never let you wear those jewels, you foolish woman." He checks his watch and sighs. "We have a meeting with the insurance company now. I'm afraid we are not able to accompany you to the airport. Thank you for attending my party. I hope to see you both in the near future."
"I understand," Damon replies, playing his part perfectly. "Thank you for your hospitality. We’ll be in touch."
“Sherri will escort you to the car,” Han says, nodding as he bids us farewell, and he and Pei strut away, leaving the three of us alone.
“Sherri—” I’m cut off as she glowers at Damon, crossing her arms.
“Do you know how difficult it is to throw oneself against a fucking doorknob?” She lifts a brow. “You are a bastard, Daman Cavanaugh.”
Damon blinks, and I frown.Shedid that toherself?! “I said make it look like a robbery.” He shrugs. “I never said maim yourself in the process.”
Sherri rolls her eyes, guiding us out of the hotel. “You said make it believable, and so I did.” She clicks her tongue. “I stilldon’t understand why you stole the diamonds. It’s not like you need?—”
“That’s enough.” Damon holds up his hand. “No more. It’s done, Sherri. Pretend like this never happened.”
Sherri purses her lips as she stands beside the SUV. She subtly glances around, and when she sees that no one is looking, she slips a piece of paper out of her bra and hands it to Damon.
“Call me, Mr. Cavanaugh,” she whispers, smirking at him. “Perhaps next time will have a more favorable ending.”
Damon grins, plucking the paper out of her hand. “We’ll see, Mrs. Li. Perhaps.”
“Doctor,” Sherri says, giving me a polite nod. “Safe travels.” And she leaves.
I gawk at Damon as we climb into the SUV, refraining from commenting until I can’t bite my tongue any longer.
“Shestillwants to fuck you?” I ask, tone chock-full of disbelief. “After you essentially robbed her and forced her to hurt herself? Shestillwants you?”
Damon shrugs, coy and smug. “It’s a gift, Q. You know this. Women… They adore me. They can never get enough.”
I roll my eyes. “You are incredibly obnoxious.”
Damon scoffs. “I’m sensing some jealousy.” He tilts his head. “We all have our skills, Quinton. This happens to be mine. We can’t all be world-renowned cancer researchers. Some of us are simply good with our cocks.”
“Out of all the topics I wish to discuss right now, your cock isn’t one of them.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and pull out my cell phone, checking our flight route. “Your buyer knows we’re coming, correct?”
Damon blinks at me. “Is that a joke? Of course, he knows. We’ll meet him in his London office at 4 a.m. He wasn’t overly pleased with such an early wake-up call, but given the time difference, I told him there was no other option.”
“He better be there. After we land, we’ll only have eight hours until the deadline at noon.”
“Once he inspects the diamonds, he’ll transfer the funds,” Damon says. “I’ve given him our account information. It’s all ready to go. You need to trust me, Q. We’ll get her back. We will.”
My knee shakes with anxiety all the way to the airport. I keep checking my phone, praying that Red calls us soon. If Damon is wrong, if the money doesn’t matter, then we need a location.
The chilly pre-dawnair bites our skin as Damon and I stand before Edward Sullivan’s office, a weathered neon sign flickering above the entrance. My breath escapes in misty puffs as I stare up at the sign.
Is this truly our saving grace?
Given the location of his office and the rundown exterior, I somehow find it difficult to believe he’s got half a billion dollars tucked away for a rainy day. Damon told me on the plane that Edward is an old associate of his father’s. I’m not at all surprised that Jonathon Cavanaugh became acquainted with someone who operates on the fringes of legality. Fits the bill, in my humble opinion.
As Damon knocks on the office door, I scan the building. It's average looking, nothing special. More fitting for an insurance agency than a shady headquarters of a fence. The door creaks open, revealing an older man with glasses, a housecoat, and slippers.
Edward Sullivan greets us with a lazy yawn. "I can’t say I’m pleased to be awake at such an ungodly hour," he mutters, squinting at us through the narrow opening. “Well, don’t just stand there. Get inside. It’s freezing.”
Damon doesn't bother with pleasantries as he strides through the threshold, his hand steady on my shoulder, almost as if to calm me. The office is dimly lit, and the air smells musty, like an antique shop. A desk cluttered with various forms and papers sits at the far end of the room, and Edward gestures for us to take a seat.
