The Billionaires (Lover's Triangle 1)

She kissed him. Then her gaze slid to Vin, who appeared edgy because she’d shared something special with Rogen. His raw intensity lit her up.

He didn’t know it, of course. And there was no way to explain it to him at present. So she simply stepped toward him and said, “You don’t have to make any contributions. I know where your loyalty stands. But thank you for being here, just to answer any legalities that might arise.”

He speared her with an intent look. “You think that’s why I’m here?”

She gave him a kiss, too. “You came for me. And to help Rogen. I appreciate that.”

Jewel collected her small clutch and they left the suite. Took the elevator to the floor where Daichi Yakimoto was hosting his private affair. Two men serving as security stood outside the double doors. One used an iPad to verify she, Vin, and Rogen were on the exclusive guest list. Then allowed them to proceed.

Inside, Jewel was informed there was a five-thousand-dollar-per-person buy-in. She handed over her credit card. They each received a chip for the buy-in amount. As they wound their way around roulette and blackjack tables that were all fully occupied, Yakimoto approached with purposeful strides. She’d spoken with him numerous times via Skype and recognized him immediately.

“Miss Catalano. A pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

She bowed, as did he.

“Thank you for the invitation to this evening’s festivities,” she said. “I’d like to introduce Rogen Angelini, my business associate, and Vin D’Angelo, our legal consultant.”

More bows. Then Yakimoto directed them through the crowd and toward a door along the far wall. “I understand from my people that the yacht is now in transit.”

“I can personally confirm that the damage looks much worse in the photos than in actuality, but it is still extensive,” she told him.

“I was anticipating that. But I’ve contacted restoration experts who are familiar with the vessel and can return it to its original state.”

It was apparently a legendary ship in the yacht world. Lyle Doberman was a famous designer of luxury yachts but had never actually built any himself, despite outrageous monetary offers to do so. He’d eventually said yes when commissioned by an internationally acclaimed maritime museum for a unique project nearly seventy-five years ago. Mr. Doberman had since passed away, making his one-of-a-kind creation a valuable antiquity.

Yakimoto opened the door and gestured for her to precede him into the anteroom where his team, as well as hers, awaited them. Two large packages were laid out on a conference table—the Renoirs.

The authenticators carefully peeled away the brown-paper wrapping and began their inspections while Jewel, Rogen, and Vin engaged in idle chitchat with Yakimoto, him telling the trio that the works of art had been in his family for generations but were never a part of a complete collection. All the while, Jewel’s stomach knotted with worry that something might go wrong and, as Bayli and Scarlet warned, her house of cards would crumble.

But that didn’t happen. The initial assessment of the paintings affirmed they were originals. They were carefully repackaged and placed in a wooden crate with a divider in the center. It had clearly been designed specifically for these two frames, because they fit perfectly and were well protected. The crate was nailed shut and sealed with security tape to prohibit tampering. Though that was just a step meant to placate. The crate could easily be swapped out for an identical one carrying replicas, not the originals.

But Jewel’s team—as well as the authenticators—would have their eyes on the prize the whole time it was being shipped to Paris in one of Catalano Enterprises’ private jets.

Jewel accepted a glass of champagne while Vin handled all the paperwork. Then Yakimoto rested a hand at the small of her back and directed her to the gaming room.

“Do you play blackjack?” the refined, tuxedo-clad man asked.

“Craps is my preference, actually,” she told him.

“Ah.” He grinned. “I knew I liked you.” He led her to a table with all male gamblers. They graciously made room for Jewel on the hook. Exactly where she liked to play.

“New shooter,” one of the men said, his appreciative gaze sliding over her. She hoped like hell Rogen and Vin didn’t notice as they stood behind her. But she was sure they did.

“We could use a little lady luck at this table,” another gentleman told her. “How are you with the dice?”

She plunked her five-thousand-dollar chip on the pass line for the come bet. “I’ll roll two or three sevens right out of the chute.” With a coy smile, she added, “I like to get them out of my system up front.” She winked. The men chuckled. Chances were good Rogen and Vin scowled.

Jewel was feeling a bit feisty following her successful business meeting. So she reached for the dice and tossed them against the far wall of the table. They bounced off the cushion, kissed in mid-air, and landed with a slight tumble.

Seven.

“I’ll be damned,” Yakimoto said, admiration in his tone.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” the gambler across from her commented.

Everyone was paid. Jewel collected the chips from that roll but kept her initial bet on the pass line.

She rolled again. Another seven.