Chapter 1094
She stopped when she saw Skye. Her gaze flicked to Alistair, then back. “I assume this emergency meeting involves the idiot branch of my family tree?”
“Conrad is an idiot,” Skye said, cutting straight to it.
Victoria sighed and sat down, crossing her legs elegantly. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Skye laid out the situation — the gem, Marcus Cain, the theft, the auction. As she spoke, Victoria’s expression darkened steadily. By the time Skye finished, Victoria was gripping the arm of the chair hard enough to whiten her knuckles.
“That imbecile,” she hissed. “He stole the Eye of Dawn? That stone has been in our vault for eighty years. It was supposed to be a paperweight, not a doomsday device.”
“And now it’s about to be sold to the highest bidder,” Skye said. “Unless we get it back.”
“Why buy it back? Can’t we simply seize it?” Victoria asked, her eyes sharp on Skye. “We have the resources.”
“Because it’s a public auction,” Skye said, holding her gaze. “If we make a scene, Marcus finds out where the gem is. We need to acquire it quietly. And you have the standing to walk in there.”
Victoria studied Skye for a long moment. Then the corner of her mouth curved upward. “Fine. I’ll get us in. But Skye comes as my assistant. You look pale enough to be an overworked secretary anyway.”
Alistair frowned. “She’s recovering from a medical procedure.”
“Then she can carry my purse,” Victoria said, waving a dismissive hand. “And you” — she pointed at Alistair — “stay in the van. You loom too much.”
Two hours later, they were in Manhattan. The Vault occupied the sub-basement of a decommissioned bank on Wall Street.
Skye adjusted her black-rimmed glasses and tugged at the hem of her modest black dress. She felt lightheaded, the marble floor shifting slightly beneath her feet. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to focus, leaning against a pillar whenever the dizziness threatened to overwhelm her. Victoria swept past the security checkpoint, flashing her VIP pass.
“She’s with me,” Victoria told the guard, gesturing to Skye the way one might gesture to luggage.
They descended into the auction hall. It was a cavern of marble and gold, crowded with the city’s elite criminals and collectors. Waiters moved through the crowd with trays of champagne.
“Item number nine,” Victoria whispered, nodding toward a glass case near the front.
There it was. The Eye of Dawn. A ruby the size of a pigeon’s egg, glowing with a deep, malevolent red.
“Do you have the funds?” Victoria asked.
“Oracle Holdings has unlimited credit,” Skye said. “I’m authorized up to fifty million.”
“Let’s hope that’s enough,” Victoria murmured. Her eyes swept the room and snagged on the mezzanine level. “Damn it.”
“What?” Skye followed her gaze.
On the balcony, leaning against the railing with an air of casual menace, stood a man in a dark suit. A scar ran through one eyebrow, and his smile promised violence.
Victor. Marcus Cain’s primary enforcer. The man who had almost killed them at the warehouse.