Page 48 of Every Last Breath

Her poker face didn’t falter. “Too bad.” She sipped the golden bubbly, seemingly at complete ease.

“Nonsense,” Van Helden said. “Then I wouldn’t have his business. He wanted the product moved quickly. I provide legitimate buyers and establish a fair market value.”

Only monsters could give death a fair market value. Cole swallowed his opinion and slid his hand to Maddox’s back.

With exaggerated flair, Van Helden clasped his hands. “So fortunate you were able to attend.” He spun, facing the others, and strode to the center of the room near the dining table. “Mr. Reinhart.” He indicated the stocky guy. “Mr. Kassar.” He swept a hand toward the lethal fellow, who looked ready to slit a throat. “And Mr. Reznikov.” Van Helden looked in Cole’s direction. “Since the bidders who are still breathing have arrived, the auction shall commence.”

Slipping his hands in his pockets, Kassar stepped toward the table near Reinhart. “I propose we weed out the government agent first.” His gaze homed in on Maddox.

Something visceral clawed through Cole, clenching his muscles, setting his pulse on fire.

How in the hell could Kassar know an agent was here?

Indignation lit Van Helden’s face. “My staff have been vetted and with me for years, and I screened the bidders personally. All are legitimate and clean.”

“Did you screen her?” Kassar asked, staring at Maddox, his accent heavy.

“And I believe you said that Reznikov isn’t the one you invited,” said his Bond villain companion.

Yep, those two were going to be a problem.

Van Helden threw a disillusioned glance at Cole and Maddox. The four guards in the room lifted their weapons as they closed in.

Raising his palms, Cole steered Maddox behind him. Based on the way her feet stuck to the floor, he gathered she had reservations about using him as a shield.

She was going to be a problem too. Great.

“I’m offended by your implication,” Cole said. “My family is well-known. Doesn’t get more legitimate than a Reznikov.” He camouflaged a nervous breath with a cool smile.

Maddox stepped around Cole, holding her glass of champagne as if she had nothing to fear. “Kassar is the faceless arms dealer. Anyone who has been in this business long enough knows that no one has any idea what he looks like. Mr. Van Helden, can you verify this man is in fact who he claims? Two bidders have already been killed, and an attempt was made on my brother-in-law’s life. Maybe this man wants to weed out one more competitor with this insane allegation.”

Nice point, but she needed to get with the program. There was no shutting down Cole’s protective instincts, so she damn well better let him, starting by staying behind him.

Van Helden stared at Kassar. “Can you prove your identity?”

“I have millions at my disposal, ready to be wired in payment for product you’re selling.” Kassar’s eastern European accent rang through clearly. Slavic. “I have proof of funds. Do they?”

All eyes zeroed in on them. A palpable tension rose in the room.

Van Helden pressed a button under the dining table. A panel on the wall beside the piano lowered, revealing a state-of-the-art computer system. “Mr. Reinhart’s identity and financials have been verified. Mr. Kassar and Mr. Reznikov will both provide proof of funds before we proceed.”

Cole adjusted his bow tie, gliding back in front of Maddox. “If Reznikov money wasn’t good, you wouldn’t have invited us. I find this all rather insulting.” He played the outrage card without overselling it.

Van Helden snapped erect as though someone had pulled a string through his spine. “Mr. Kassar raises a valid concern. Your wife hasn’t been vetted, and for that matter, your brother was invited. Not you. An interested buyer, whomever he may be, I welcome. A government agent, not so much. I wish to see your financials. Now.”

“Once we win the bid,” Cole said, “you’ll have all the proof you need with our payment. Shall we get started?”

The white-haired man narrowed his eyes, a rosy pink darkening his cheeks. “I don’t think so.” He waved to the armed guards already converging in a tight formation. “Take them below. Separate them. I don’t want them talking to each other and ironing out their stories. I’ll deal with them after the auction.”

“Do keep a special eye on her.” A maniacal grin illuminated Kassar’s face—the first flicker of emotion he’d shown. His companion held them with a beastly stare.

It was a cold burn in Cole’s gut. Somehow, Kassar knew for certain Maddox was an agent—officer. If there was a fucking leak in the Gray Box, that meant serious trouble for them beyond their current predicament.

The four thick-necked thugs with guns surrounded them, and Cole’s hands clenched to fists. With the guards clustered and poised to quash resistance, a move now would work against them. Maddox cupped his forearm, giving him a clear sign not to act. She must’ve assessed the situation the same.

The guards directed them toward the staircase he’d seen earlier. Right side of the room near the bookcase. Cole put his hand to Maddox’s lower back and edged forward. Two mercs cut in front, leading the way below. The other two covered their six, one nudging Cole with the barrel of an MP7.

As they descended in single file down the narrow, spiral staircase, Cole slipped the pen from his pocket and held it close to his leg. Maddox took her lipstick from her purse and tucked it into her bra.