I yank the cellphone out and answer it, and immediately, I grin.
“You little prick!”
I resist the urge to chuckle at the anger in Martin’s voice.
“Mr. McCue, I’m afraid I have to tender my resignat—”
“Oh, go fuck yourself, you little bastard! Do you have any fucking idea of the shit you just brought on yourself!? The lengths I’m going to go in order to make you fucking pay for this?”
I do chuckle this time, and I can hear Martin roar on the other end of the line.
“I’m sure a man of your means and connects will find the diamonds again, Mr. McCue. You’ll just have to pay the private collector I sell them to handsomely to get them back.”
“I’ll pull those diamonds out of your cold, dead fingers you little fuck,” he hisses.
I roll my eyes, sinking back into the couch and pulling Valentine into me.
“Mr. McCue, as nice as it is to chat, I’m a little tied up at the—”
“Well?!”
“Well what?”
“Well what’s your fucking number, you little shit? How much?”
I frown. “For the diamonds?”
“For the ransom!”
My frown deepens. “I hate to break it to you this way, Martin, but I’m keeping them. I’ve got an interested buyer, and we both know you’ve got insurance on them.”
“Don’t play games asshole,” he hisses. “How much?”
“For the last time,” I growl. “The diamonds are not for—”
“For the girl, you asshole!”
I pause, confusion swirling through my head
“No bullshit, just give me numbers alright? How much to get her back in one piece before her mother goes to the media and has me flayed open.”
Slowly, I turn, my brow furrowing as I look down into Valentine’s eyes.
“Who exactly are we talking—”
“How much for my damn daughter back, you little shit!?”
Oh fuck.
The bottom drops out. Time stops.
“I’ll call back,” I mutter out quickly. “Be prepared to answer and get your checkbook ready.”
I hang up, my pulse roaring as I turn back to level my gaze at Valentine.
Naked, tempting, wearing a quarter-billion dollars’ worth of jewels that I just stole from her father.
…Fucking now what.
Chapter 7
Valentine
“You’re his fucking daughter?!”
Dutch backs away from me, and I cringe, instantly missing the heat of him and the feel of his bare chest against me.
“Wait…”
“How the fuck did I not know that?” He doesn’t sound angry so much as incredulous, like he’s frowning at himself more than me.
“I mean…” he shakes his head. “How? How is that not something I’d have known?”
I look away.
“Because I’m his dirty little secret.”
The room goes quiet, and I swallow before taking a shaky breath.
“My mother was the cleaning lady.” I look up, my mouth tight as I hold his gaze without blinking. “Need anything else?”
He frowns, a shadow crossing his face.
“They had this brief affair while Martin was still married to his first wife. She kept me, and he made sure both me and the story were buried. I got sent away to boarding school in Switzerland when I was six. My mom passed when I was fourteen, and…”
I trail off, and suddenly, he’s there. I sink into his arms as they circle me, comforting me, holding me tight as he kisses the top of my head.
“I’m so sorry, angel,” he says quietly.
“My mom didn’t really have any family, so, that’s where I ended up basically year-round, and I’ve barely been back. Diana, Martin’s new wife, is actually pretty nice. She comes to visit sometimes or invites me to come back here. I know her heart’s in the right place, but Martin…” I shake my head. “Well, you know him. You know what he is.”
“A class-a asshole.”
I frown. “That’s putting it nicely.” I look up at Dutch, and even as much as it hurts to talk about this stuff, with him, I feel like I can. I feel like I can open up and tell him everything—my past, my pain, my hurt.
“You want to know how I broke in to that case?” I smile wryly. “I didn’t break into it at all. Diana flew me back for a little visit, and I stumbled upon her planner a week ago, where she keeps passwords for email and stuff.”
Dutch’s brows go up. “You’re shitting me. The combo for that case was in there?”
My head nods. “Yup. Right next to her Netflix password.”
I don’t want to smile, because stealing the password from someone as nice as Diana feels wrong. But then, taking something from Martin that’ll actually cause him pain and loss is worth it. And when I think of it that way, the smile creeps across my lips.
Dutch chuckles, holding me tight. “I’m impressed.”
I shrug. “I saw an opportunity, and I took it. After the way he treated my mother and sent me away?” I shake my head. “Fuck him.”
“Good girl,” he purrs. Dutch leans down, kissing my head again. But this time, I look up, and when he leans back in, it’s my lips he finds. Fire sparks through me as his mouth sears to mine, and when his hands slide over me, pulling me tight to him, I moan as I melt against him.