Our eyes meet, and I glare at him.
“Secondly? You try and spill anything you know about my company to anyone, and she’s going to feel the backlash. Understand?”
Rage flares inside of me, my jaw grinding as something hot slices into me.
“You’re a piece of shit,” I hiss.
Martin smiles. “I am what I am, asshole. But that’s how this works out. I’m taking her, and I’m taking these back,” he reaches up and hefts one of the earrings Valentine is wearing. “And you? You’re fading away to nothing. Find a hole, Mr. Hammond. Find a hole, and live there. Because if I ever hear from you, see you, hear about you pulling another job, or learn you’re trying to spill any company secrets, she’s gonna get hurt.”
I snarl, lunging for him in spite of the three guys holding me. They yank me back, swearing at me and sinking a fist into my gut, doubling me over as Valentine screams. She’s still screaming as the guards hit me again and again, knocking me to the ground before stepping away. I roar, lunging for the guys dragging Valentine away, but suddenly I’m face to face with about five guns, and when one of them pulls back and hits me over the temple with the butt, I crumple to the ground.
Black dots swim in my vision, and blood trickles down my face. I’m trying to get to my feet as I hear Valentine screaming, but it’s like I can hardly move.
“You lose, asshole,” Martin spits from the doorway. “Now fade the fuck away.”
And then I’m alone. I grunt, head swimming, legs not really working as I try and stand. I have to get her. I have to stop them. But I can hear the helicopter starting up again, and by the time I’ve managed to stand, it’s already rising high in the sky and disappearing into the night.
I grunt, wincing as I hold my side, my whole world spinning as I sink to the floor against the bed. I don’t give a shit about winning or losing. I don’t give a shit about the diamonds. All I give a shit about is her, but the best thing I’ve ever known in my life just got dragged away from me.
…And slowly, I start to grin.
The grin turns into a smile, and that smile turns into a chuckle, until even though it hurts, I’m laughing.
Martin thinks he’s holding all the cards. He thinks I’m going to “disappear.”
Yeah, fuck that. He’s wrong two different ways. One, for thinking I would ever walk away from Valentine. I don’t care what he has on me, or what he could destroy me with. She’s worth it every risk and every hell to be with. But he’s wrong for another reason too.
I’m slumped against the side of the bed, and when I reach under it and slide out the black box, I shake my head. Slowly, I open the box, my eyes dropping to the glittering diamonds sitting there, and I grin even wider.
Valentine is wearing the fakes, from the game we were playing. Which means right now, I’m sitting here with two-hundred-and-forty million worth of diamonds, and a years worth of dirty secrets about Martin’s company.
…But I don’t have her.
My jaw tightens, and I toss away the diamonds as I stand. I grunt, wiping blood from my mouth as I steel my jaw and take a breath. The diamonds, the corporate secrets? None of it matters, and I’d trade every goddamn cent and every millimeter of leverage they’re worth for her, in a heartbeat.
Except the thing is, I’m not going to have to trade. Because actually, Martin was wrong three different ways. He was wrong for thinking I’d walk away from the woman I love. He was wrong about the diamonds he took with her being the real ones. But most importantly?
…He was wrong in assuming telling a master thief that something was “off limits.” He was wrong in thinking this thief wouldn’t move heaven and hell to come after the greatest treasure he’s ever known, and the most important steal of his life.
Her.
I grin a hardened smile, gazing coolly out the window at the black speck of the helicopter fading into the night.
Martin’s right about one thing. I am going to fade away. I’m going to disappear. And he sure as shit is never going to see or hear from me again.
…But not before I take back what’s mine. And nothing in this fucking world is going to stop me.
Chapter 12
Valentine
“So, explain to me how the fuck this happened?!”
My father whirls, scotch splashing out of the crystal tumbler in his hand as the fury blazes in his eyes.
We’re back at the mansion, sitting in his library. Well, Diana—my father’s wife—and I are sitting. He’s mostly pacing and fuming, steadily getting drunk.