“Now, darling, we shouldn’t blame innocent bystanders for the failures of others.”
Penelope balled her hand into a fist.
“It’s important to distinguish friends from enemies. There are groups who call themselves liberators—Collectives. Noble thieves, they’d say. But I’ve seen how they operate. They’ll use you to launder their lies if you’re not careful.”
“Our authentication process is quite thorough and hard to fool.”
“These people are exceptionally talented, Dr.Blackwell. You’d be surprised by how they manage to fool even the most sophisticated methods and painstaking assessments.”
“I’m confident in the Meridian’s team.”
Valentina crossed one foot over the other. “You trust your instincts, Doctor?”
Penelope straightened. “I do.”
“Even against…curious, charming interlopers sent to suss out your vulnerability—to use you as a pawn in their game?”
Her pulse jumped. “I’m well-versed in seeing through masks people wear.”
A small smile spread over Valentina’s face. “Of course you are. I hope that confidence won’t cost you more than it already has.”
A pause.
“I’m rooting for you, Penelope.”
~ ~ ~
Penelope stalked out of the room, out of the mansion. She hated that she had to deal with Valentina at all. She slammed her car door shut and drove off into the night, heading home.
She forced herself to loosen her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and ease up on the gas. A speeding ticket wouldnotround off her week.
So Luciawasthe person Valentina had warned her about.
Of course, she couldn’t trust a word that woman said, but the timing was suspicious, and the Bellini was a fake. Just like the Alessi. Even if their authentication process seemed to be fooled regarding the former.
It wouldn’t be the first time a forgery had passed every test, leaving her instincts to fight an uphill battle against official reports. She’d been vindicated before, sometimes years later, but the stakes were higher because for the first time, a personal entanglement had taken root. Roots Penelope should have yanked out already.
She didn’t want Lucia to be part of this mess.
What even was her role? A middleman? A decoy? A patsy? The paintings alone proved nothing, but the fact both came through her and her mysterious “clients,” that was the problem.
If they’d been forged by different hands, Lucia might’ve escaped suspicions entirely.
But they weren’t. The same eye, the same brush. She knew it in her bones. But knowing wasn’t the same as proving.
Worse still––shewantedLucia to be innocent. That longing could ruin everything.
Penelope had accepted the job offer at the Meridianpreciselybecause it housed theMadonna. Because it might lead her to Valentina. And it had.
There shouldn’t be a conflict in dealing with Lucia. Certainly not one that made her heart thud faster and her palms grow damp.
She sounded like a damned cliché.
And yet… If Lucia was the link, she couldn’t look away.
The problem wasn’t just the danger.
It was how easy it would be to fall.
