Tattered obsession tatte.., p.8
Tattered Obsession (Tattered Obsession Series), page 8
“What sorts of things?” I ask, leaning on the railing to watch him.
Theo turns to me with an eyebrow raised. “The kinds of things you don’t share in polite company.”
I snort. “I wouldn’t exactly consider myself ‘polite company,’ Theo.”
He chuckles from deep in his chest, seeming to come back to himself. “Speaking of polite company,” he says, “or not-so-polite, as the case may be... How did it go with Sterling today?”
A rush of excitement goes through me as the events of the day come flooding back. “I got the job,” I exclaim. “Sterling gave me the job.”
“That’s fantastic,” Theo says, breaking into a broad grin that makes my insides melt. “They’re lucky to have you, kid.”
“I couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t pushed me to,” I tell him earnestly. “Thank you, Theo.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies, looking like an angel in the sunlight, and for a moment I want to kiss him, and to hell with everything else.
But instead, I turn back to face the vista.
“So how was your first day, then?” Theo asks, and I can feel his eyes on me.
“Good,” I reply. “Intense... but good. There was this one painting that was…” I shake my head, at a loss for words. “Exquisite. A genuine Robert Schaeffer. One of his earlier pieces, I think. The kind of thing I always loved, all the way back in art school. Part of me wanted to buy it, but...” I snap my mouth shut, aware that I’m straying back into dangerous territory.
“What is it?” Theo asks, moving closer to me in the fading light.
“Someone already bought it,” I explain, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. “Does the name Eddie Sullivan ring any bells?”
Theo chuckles, but there’s something dark in it. “Yeah,” he says, running a hand through his shaggy hair. “It does. Sullivan’s one of m... one of ours.”
My heart sinks. That explains it, then. “I take it he’s a... what, a high-level operator?” I ask.
“In a manner of speaking, yeah,” Theo says. He isn’t looking at me anymore. “He’s a bit of a loose cannon. Doesn’t like answering to anyone. My dad brought him into the organization back in the nineties, and he’s never really straightened out. I think he’s just got a soft spot for him.”
“You don’t sound very happy about that,” I say.
“I’m not,” Theo says, and leaves it at that as his gaze sweeps over the world below. The sun has gone down, and darkness is quickly falling over the city. “The syndicate’s still suffering from a lot of the plays my father made back in the day.” His expression goes hard.
“So why were you away?” I ask, suddenly needing a change of subject.
“Hm?” Theo turns back to me.
“Before the wedding, I mean,” I say. “I know you just got back into town recently, but you never told me where you were.”
Theo turns to lean back against the railing, as cool and charismatic as ever. “You really want to know the answer to that, kid?” he asks, smirking.
I cross my arms. “Try me.”
“Let’s just say my father and I had some... disagreements about how this organization should be run,” Theo says. “He muscled me out. Didn’t want me involved in the day-to-day stuff any longer, so I left.”
“Sounds like you didn’t like the idea of being bossed around by someone else,” I quip. “I know the feeling.”
“I bet you do.” Theo presses his lips together pensively. “I spent the last five years overseas, playing the game, working my way back up the ladder. I did a lot of things I regret. I put in my time, and when I came back, I came back on my own terms.” That predatory look has fallen over his face again, and I can feel my breath catch in my throat. “And now that I’m back,” Theo says, his silver eyes burning as he turns back to face me, “I’m not going to let what I have here go. Not again. Not for anyone.” There’s hunger in his expression, and as he stares at me in the twinkling lights of the nearby buildings, I can’t help but wonder if he’s talking about his work... or about me.
Chapter Nine
I wasn’t expecting this job to be a breeze or anything, but by the end of my third shift at the gallery, I’m starting to see why Callie is always so damn tired at the end of the week. It’s not as much that the work itself is hard; once she shows me how to catalogue the paintings, use the scheduling system, and manage viewings, it becomes fairly straightforward. But the social side of it is something I never saw coming. You’d think, having grown up in a world of luxury, I would be used to dealing with people, but I’m quickly finding out that that’s not the case at all. I don’t know how to schmooze, to manipulate, to make people do my bidding. That’s all my dad’s job, and it occurs to me as I get ready for work on my third day that I never really did ask him how to play the game. Maybe, in some naive way, I thought I would never have to.
It’s later than I usually get up, and Theo is gone when I make my way into the kitchen, wondering whether a dress or a business skirt would be more appropriate. The first thing I notice is that a plate of pancakes is waiting for me on the kitchen table, along with a note that reads, Out on business today, but I’ll be back tonight. Enjoy. —T
The second thing I notice, after I get over the fact that he remembered how much I love chocolate chips in my pancakes, is the big parcel that’s waiting for me on the kitchen island. It’s wrapped in parchment and tied with twine, and I’m still a little foggy from sleep as I struggle to undo the knot. But the sight of it still sends a jolt through me, and as I give up on the string and start to tear at the paper, adrenaline surging, all I can think is, No way.
I tug the cover off, barely even registering the Sterling Gallery label on it, and the next thing I know, I’m holding the Robert Schaeffer painting I fell in love with at the gallery a handful of days ago. It’s just as magnificent now as it was then. The colors swirl and dance over the surface of the canvas, the brush strokes glistening in the kitchen lights, and as I marvel at it, I’m overwhelmed with joy... and more than a little confusion.
Where the hell did he get it? And how? Theo said Eddie Sullivan was one of the Emmerico syndicate’s top dogs, and I doubt someone like that is just going to hand a real Robert Schaeffer over to some in-law like me. A painting like this is easily worth millions—and that’s without even inflating the value for laundering purposes. The fact that it’s in my hands now is downright surreal, and I can’t help but wonder how many strings Theo had to pull to get it.
But the thought of owning a treasure like this is so enticing that it drowns out my worry as I creep through the apartment, trying to figure out where to hang it. Lucas’s over-the-top taste makes it hard to find a good spot; even if I found a bit of open space for it, it would just end up drowned out by all the other elaborate pieces in their gilded frames. Besides, I didn’t exactly get his permission…
But maybe I don’t need it, I think, Theo’s earlier words of encouragement ringing in my ears. I don’t have to like being married to Lucas, but that doesn’t mean I have to always let him dictate the terms, either.
Resolved, I carry the painting back into my bedroom and put it in a place of honor on the wall, where I can stare at it every day. If Lucas has a problem with that, then... I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. That’s basically my answer to everything Lucas-related these days, but can you blame me? I can only handle so many problems at once, and right now, my biggest problem isn’t Lucas; it’s my rapidly-growing attachment to his older brother.
Theo beats me home again today, and he’s still dressed in his business suit when I walk in the door. “Hey, kid,” he says, glancing up from the papers he’s looking over. A smirk spreads across his face when he sees my expression. “I take it you got my note.”
“Yeah,” I reply, dropping my bag and crossing my arms. “And the painting that came with it.”
He mirrors my posture, staring me down from his place at the kitchen table. “And...?” he prompts.
“And...” I can only shake my head.
“Do you like it?”
“Of course I like it,” I reply. “I love it. But I didn’t... I mean...” I run a hand through my hair. “I didn’t tell you about it to make you feel like you had to get it for me.”
“I know,” Theo replies as he walks to the liquor cabinet. “I wanted to.”
“But—”
“You’re overthinking this, kid,” Theo tells me, his eyes on his task. “You said you liked it, so I got it for you. End of story.” He shrugs his broad shoulders. “And now you have it, so... what can I say? You’re welcome.” He winks.
I feel a blush start to creep up my cheeks, and I do my best to suppress it, but it’s so damned hard when he’s looking at me that way. I sigh. “I think we need to talk.”
“What about?” Theo asks, completely unfazed, rummaging for a moment longer before taking out a bottle of scotch. He holds up two glasses questioningly, and I nod. To hell with behaving; I need a strong drink.
“How the hell you got it, for starters,” I reply as he fills the glasses. “I thought Eddie Sullivan didn’t answer to anyone.”
Theo raises his glass to his lips, his eyes gleaming in the kitchen lights. “He answers to me,” he says.
I swallow, feeling my pulse quicken. “I, uh, didn’t realize you had people who answered to you.”
“That’s because I never told you.”
“Theo...” I suck in a breath and take a swig of scotch to steady myself. “What exactly do you do for the Emmerico family? I mean, really do—when you’re not here, playing glorified babysitter to me.”
Theo straightens up, crossing his arms. “I’m Victor Emmerico’s oldest son,” he says. “He’s the face of our organization, but he doesn’t run it. Not like he used to.”
“Are you saying…?”
“I manage the business,” Theo explains. “I help maintain our hierarchy. I oversee our day-to-day operations. I strategize, and I make sure that the right people make the right decisions. Nothing gets to my dad without going through me first.”
I laugh nervously. “You make it sound like you’re the one in charge.”
“In a way, I am,” Theo says. “I’m not really the one who does the planning, though. That’s my father. And when he’s ready to retire, I’ll be assuming the role of head of the syndicate.” He takes a sip of scotch, his eyes on me. “You seem surprised.”
“I am,” I say. “So all that time you were working your way back to the top, that was all so you could take over for your father?”
Theo nods. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s not about to cut and run with this alliance so in flux. But he’s not getting any younger, and new blood is badly needed. The syndicate needs to be in tune with the times. We can’t afford to attract the attention of law enforcement, and we also need to diversify our operations.” He grins. “And I can be a pretty damn good manager, when I want to be.”
“So where does Lucas fit into all this?” I ask, still reeling from the realization that I’ve been living with the future head of the Emmerico family.
Theo presses his lips together at the mention of his brother, and I don’t miss the way his eyes dart briefly to my wedding ring. “Lucas is an enforcer,” he says after a heavy pause.
A surge of fear washes over me. “Like a hitman?”
“Among other things.” Theo nods. “He’s our muscle—part of our muscle, anyway. Someone doesn’t want to repay a debt? Lucas pays them a visit. Someone falls out of favor, or tries to double-cross us? Lucas takes care of it.”
“He does the dirty work?” Lucas’s ever-extending “business trip” comes to mind.
Theo sighs. It’s obvious this is a touchy subject for him. “He was always the more... heavy-handed of the two of us,” he says. “Shit, that’s the understatement of the century. Aggressive is the right word. He’s... well-respected, in certain circles. But he’s also well-known for being ruthless.” He looks away. “I’ve always preferred a more delicate touch.”
“But you’ve done bad things, too,” I breathe.
“Everyone in this family has done bad things, kid,” Theo reminds me. “We’re all sinners, after all.”
“And I’m married to one of you,” I say, dropping my gaze to the kitchen counter.
“Believe me, kid,” Theo says, his tone gruff, “I haven’t forgotten.” There’s no mistaking the desire on his face as he moves around the island to me, and I can’t help the shiver that runs down my back. His eyes lock on mine, and I’m paralyzed, frozen with longing as he reaches up to brush his thumb across my cheek. I close my eyes, savoring the warmth of his hand as it moves over my skin, but it’s not enough. The feeling of his touch lingers, and I’m left wanting more, ready to come undone, until…
My cell phone’s shrill ringtone practically makes me jump into the air, and I only just manage to grab it before it goes to voicemail. I’m half-expecting a call from Craig—if there’s one thing that sets him apart, it’s how demanding he is—but I don’t get off that easily.
“Vivian.” Lucas is on the other end of the line, his voice tight and tense, and I can practically hear him fuming. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Huh?” I shake my head to clear it. “What do you mean?”
“Are you even listening to me?” Lucas demands. “Where. The. Hell. Have. You. Been?”
“What are you talking about?” I protest. “I just got home.”
“From where?” Lucas demands. “Where have you been all day?”
“Jeez, what’s this about?” I ask, anxiety creeping up my spine. “You’re acting like I’ve done something wrong.”
“I’m not acting,” Lucas snaps. “I’ve called you three fucking times today. Three fucking times! Jasper says he saw you go out this morning, and you haven’t been back since.”
“Who the hell is Jasper?” I demand, my voice rising. By now, Theo is walking up behind me, listening intently. I can feel the heat that’s radiating off him, just like I can feel the way his eyes are trained on me. Wordlessly, I put the call on speaker, as much for peace of mind as to be polite.
“Jasper is my eyes and ears while I’m away,” Lucas barks. “Not that that’s any of your concern.”
My blood runs cold. The guy who’s been skulking around the building. It has to be. “You’ve had one of your goons spying on me?” I demand.
“I told you to lie low and stay out of trouble,” Lucas growls. “You never listen, do you?”
“I’m still waiting for an answer,” I snap, glancing at Theo for support. He stares back at me with a mixture of dominance and concern, and the contrast stirs something in my gut. “I thought that was the whole reason you sent Theo here.”
“And that wasn’t enough, was it?” Lucas fires back. “What have you been doing all day out of the apartment, Vivian? I swear, if you’ve been flapping your gums, I’ll—”
Anger surges through me. My eyes find Theo’s; he nods once, and that’s all the encouragement I need. “I’m not a damn rat, Lucas, so you can forget it. And if you have to know, I’ve been working all day.” I realize my palms have gone clammy, even though I’m gripping my phone tightly enough to break it in half.
“Working?”
“I got the Sterling job.”
There. It’s out.
Lucas goes silent for a long beat. “You... you did what?” His words are strained with rage.
Theo has moved beside me, his head low as he listens to the exchange, and I can sense his tension.
“I got the job,” I repeat. “This will benefit both our families, Lucas. The art scene is tied to our business. And I’m not about to let this opportunity go.”
There’s a long pause. “You’re pushing your luck, Vivian,” Lucas snarls finally. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to? I’m your fucking husband and you’re mine. You can’t do whatever the fuck you like when I’m not there!”
“I do,” I tightly reply, refusing to apologize, but I can’t keep the tremor out of my voice. “And I don’t care. I’m good at what I do, and I’m going to make sure it pays off. You’ll see.” I swallow hard and breathe out, “Besides, it’s not like I don’t know what I’m getting into.”
“Oh, believe me, Vivian, you have no idea what you’re getting into,” Lucas growls, and the implication is crystal clear. “You’re not a bargaining chip anymore, Vivian. This deal doesn’t depend on you anymore, and if you think you can hide behind your father forever, you’re sorely—”
That’s when Theo, who has up until now been silent, finally steps in. “You don’t get to talk to her like that,” he says, and even though his voice is level, he’s visibly boiling with rage. The look in his eyes calls to mind the way he looked when he almost killed that guy at the bar, and his tone is steely and commanding.
“Theo?” Lucas sounds taken aback. “You’ve been listening in?”
“The call was on speaker,” Theo states coolly, “and you’re fucking lucky you and I are on the same side, or I’d be making a call of my own right now. Do you hear me?”
There’s a pause, and then Lucas snorts. “You think you pull the strings around here, Theo? You’re not in charge. Dad is and either way, she is my wife. I can speak to her however the fuck I like.”
“He won’t be forever,” Theo states. “And if I ever hear you threaten your wife like that again, it won’t matter who’s in charge. I’ll make it my business to deal with you. Do you understand?”
Lucas barks out a laugh. “Awfully smug for someone who just got back into Dad’s good graces, Theo. You’re not the one who’s gotten his hands dirty for years for this family. Best remember that, or things may not turn out in your favor.”
