King Me (Forever Wilde 7) - Page 2

My mind spun, not just from the pain but also the confusion. “I don’t understand. What happened?”

He stood, surveying the study with a critical eye, making sure no evidence of the break-in remained. Except for me of course.

Fuck. If I got caught in here… I fought against the zip ties, not caring that the sharp edges bit into my skin.

Elek’s gaze landed on me, and it was creepily devoid of emotion. “It seems our interests don’t align as well as they once did.”

I blinked at him. Was he fucking kidding me? “Is this about the job? I’ll do the damned job,” I shouted.

He shrugged, tucking the tube with the Van Gogh under his arm. “Too late. I don’t know when I let you get so much control. I don’t need this. I made you into the tool I needed, and I can do it again with someone less trouble. Maybe make them even better.”

Anger boiled inside me. I strained forward against the restraints. “Good luck,” I spat. “There is no one better than me.”

He lifted an eyebrow and grinned. “Any art thief not currently tied to a radiator at a crime scene would seem better, eh, macska?”

I growled low in my throat. I was going to throttle him the moment I got out of here.

If I got out of here.

Fuck.

My heart, which had already begun hammering harder than normal in my predicament, stuttered for half a beat before thundering so loudly, my ears whooshed with it. It was like a scene out of a movie—the one where the bad guy double-crosses his partner in crime. Only we weren’t just partners in crime, we were also partners in life.

Or so I’d thought.

“Elek,” I said, trying to keep my voice conciliatory. “Let’s talk about this.”

“Sorry, macska,” he said again, sounding about as sincere as a child apologizing for taking candy he shouldn’t have.

With that he turned and left. There was utter silence for a few moments, broken only by my strained breathing. I waited for him to turn back. To come cut me free.

Instead I heard the sound of breaking glass and a shrill alarm cut through the night. Emergency lights along the wall began to flash.

The motherfucker tripped the alarm. On purpose.

Which meant the police would be here in minutes.

I was seriously screwed.

I redoubled my efforts against the restraints. The plastic was slick now, probably from my blood, but I didn’t care. It was a small price to pay if it meant evading capture. They still weren’t budging. I was going to have to think of something else.

My head pounded, my nerves lit like live wires from adrenaline. The flashing lights and screaming alarm only made it worse. Panic threatened, but I held it at bay. It wasn’t my first rodeo—okay, heist—and, thanks to Elek, I’d spent the past three years earning a reputation as one of the most successful art thieves in modern times.

I could figure this out. I was not only quick on my feet, but well versed in high-level security systems. I was familiar with the layout of the interior minister’s house, I just hadn’t anticipated needing an exit plan that included getting out of plastic handcuffs.

I looked around, assessing my options. The empty study was still in the wee morning hours, and the wood paneling of the large room glowed honey brown in the flashing security lights. The thick picture frame in front of me housed a blank space as if the Van Gogh had never been there.

If I’d been wearing my normal gear, I’d have had pockets full of tools I could have used to free myself. But tonight I was dressed in the same slim black trousers, white button-down shirt, bow tie, and hipster framed eyeglasses I’d worn as a server earlier that evening at the cocktail reception held in the interior minister’s house before I’d hidden in a storage closet for hours until it was time to let Elek into the building for the heist.

Even a damn corkscrew could have come in handy right now. But my pockets were empty. Elek had promised I didn’t need anything since he’d bring it in when he came. In hindsight, believing his bullshit was a critical mistake. And without something to cut through the plastic, I wasn’t getting out of here.

My skin flushed hot, my mouth going dry. This couldn’t be happening. Elek couldn’t have done this to me. We were partners. We loved each other. We’d made plans for the future together.

It couldn’t have all been a lie on his end. No one can be that convincing.

“Elek,” I shouted to be heard over the alarm. “Please don’t do this.” I swallowed back the sour taste in my mouth at having to beg. “Please come back.”

His voice crackled through my earpiece, indicating the distance he was putting between us with his escape. “Sorry, kitten. You’ll be okay. Play dumb.”

Tags: Lucy Lennox Forever Wilde M-M Romance
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