Cash: A Dark Romance (Saint and Sinners Book 2)

by Ruby Vincent

  “Ooh. I was going with infiltrator, but I like your title much better.”

  I curled his arms under my neck, resting my chin on top. Why would I be shocked? You, my love, are me.

  “So, how do we deal with this?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “You said you didn’t question your ownership—which is good because it hasn’t been revoked. You and I belong together.” More than you know. “But as I explained recently to my father, I don’t share. There has to be another way to do what you do minus the sex. Once we figure that out, you retire.”

  “Do I get a say in this?” He sounded amused.

  “Yes.”

  Leaning back, he peered at me. “Really?”

  “Of course.” I caressed his arm with long, tapered fingers. “You can say you don’t want me, Mercer.”

  He flicked to my hands, eyes glazing. “Who in their right mind would say that?”

  “Shall we brainstorm?”

  “Please, beautiful. Love to hear how an escort can make his living without escorting.”

  My internal clock went off, signaling my cookies were ready to be taken out. I got up and redressed. “There’s something to be said for relying on your skills. But there are many ways to infiltrate the right place, and shadow the right people. You just have to think outside the box.”

  CASH

  “I can’t take the suspense.” Adeline stood in my office doorway. “Enzo’s taken over. What’s the new plan?”

  “Sit. I’ll tell you.”

  I reclined in my desk chair, sweeping over the seemingly random scraps of information on my corkboards, whiteboards, and walls. It looked like unholy chaos. All I saw was order.

  Adeline sat in my lap. I picked her up and dropped her laughing on the couch. I remained standing to prevent another attempt.

  “Did Sinjin tell you the steps to destroying an empire?”

  “Drain their funds, shake their followers’ loyalty, cut off the head.” She stretched out, hanging off the arm. “You cut off one head. Are you planning to kill Enzo now?”

  “No. Angelo’s death served many purposes. Enzo’s would achieve little,” I said. “The Kings are shaken. Trust is breaking down. Their get-out-of-jail-free lawyer is dead. They’re losing money, and their reputation as untouchable is crumbling with every burning building on the news. Now is the time for the next step. Drain their funds.”

  “How will you do that?”

  I circled a name on the board. “Richard La Roche.”

  “La Roche? That investment banker guy? What’s he got to do with anything?”

  Drifting to the photo beneath his name, I replied, “Richard La Roche is the best money-launderer, counterfeiter, art forger, and stolen antiquities dealer this city has ever seen. That any city has ever seen.”

  “He is?” She came over and jabbed the photo. “This guy right here?”

  “That guy.”

  “How?” she cried. “I’ve never heard his name unless it was mentioned along with the other moneybags in Cinco.”

  “It’s cute how you expect to know everything about the criminal underworld. When would talk of a master forger come up, Redgrave? While you and the prep chef were making canapes?”

  She rolled her eyes. “This again? One doesn’t get labeled the best by being unknown. There isn’t a single whiff of crime connected to his public image. How did you find out otherwise?”

  “Forgers are con men by nature. They shed aliases and identities as easily as they brush their teeth. Up, down, gargle, spit. They’re someone else. No one knew who he was for years. He moved his phony bills through legitimate investments, and amassed a real art collection that gave credibility to the occasional fake that went up for auction. The up-close-and-personal con work he carried out overseas in Europe, Asia, and the Middle East. Then one day, he decided to do the criminal’s version of retirement, and became a consultant.”

  “Consultant,” she repeated. “As in he put his knowledge up for sale to budding thieves?”

  “That’s it in one, Redgrave.

  “The contacts he formed, the active aliases, the money, and his reputation are invaluable. He’s got teams of people working for him—which is impressive in and of itself. Con men prefer to work alone. In pairs if a double act will better get the job done. But in teams? No. Not until him.

  “At any given time, someone in this city is running a scam that will make them, and La Roche, millions.”

  “But still, how did you find out?”

  I went to the wet bar and poured a drink. Adeline shook her head at the offering.

  “La Roche advertised.”

  “Advertised? You’re saying the man put out a citywide memo that he was open for business and looking for employees?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  She gaped at his picture. “How?”

  “Art gallery opening three years ago. La Roche donated pieces from his own collection, and within it was La Libertad.”

  “La Libertad,” she said. “Freedom.”

  “The lost painting of Aurelio Molina.”

  Adeline pulled me next to her on the couch. “My goodness, we have the most interesting chats. Who’s Aurelio Molina?”

  I chuckled at her wide-eyed interest. “Aurelio Molina was a Spanish painter in the 1800s. He had modest success in his lifetime as a post-Impressionist. Before his death, he boasted about a new, inspired piece he painted that overshadowed his other works. A true masterpiece that he named La Libertad.

  “He planned to unveil the painting at the party for his fiftieth birthday. He died a week before, and a search of his home and studio turned up nothing. The painting was lost.”

  I sipped my drink, indulging the pleasure of her full attention. Her hand gripping my thigh. Minty shampoo scenting the air. Breasts pushed together as she sat on her knees, leaning over me.

  “Cash?”

  I dragged myself to reality. “As tends to happen, Molina gained fame after his death,” I continued. “His last painting to go up for auction sold for two million euro.”

  She whistled. “Not bad. So this lost painting must be worth a fortune.”

  “It would be,” I said, “if it existed.”

  “What? But you said—”

  “Molina was trying to drive up interest in his work. Create an air of mystery like a movie preview with a lot of sex and explosions that ultimately reveals nothing of what the movie is about. He tried to paint La Libertad and deliver his promise to the dozens of people expecting a masterpiece, but he set himself such a high standard, nothing he painted could hope to meet it. In a fit of artistic temperament, he burned his attempts to ash. Two days later, he died.”

  “Wow.” She sat back, digesting what I said. “So, the painting in La Roche’s collection. Where the hell did that come from?”

  “Now you’re asking the right question, Redgrave. After his death, Molina’s widow didn’t want the embarrassment of admitting her husband lied to everyone, and then burned their hopes in a fit of tantrum. Instead, she told the world Aurelio’s final masterpiece was stolen by a thief in the night, and the shock of it killed him.

  “Ever since, art forgers and collectors alike have been after that painting. Collectors bid outrageously for his surviving work. Experts studied his style in hope of matching it to the piece when it’s finally found. La Libertad became the art world’s hunt for the holy grail, and the family secret remained hidden until a particularly crafty grifter snuggled up to a great-great-great in Molina’s family tree. She told him the truth over pillow talk.”

  “What did he do?” she breathed.

  “What any good con man would do. There is no painting, Adeline. No one is going to pop up and say, ‘I have the real one. I had it all along.’ He hired a forger to paint him a canvas of bullshit and shouted to the world La Libertad was found. Experts eventually denounced it as a forgery, but he went to someone else. Got another painting, tried selling it under a d
ifferent name. Again, it was revealed it couldn’t have been painted during that time period. So, he got someone better, and he tried again.

  “By then, word spread among a separate art community. La Libertad didn’t exist, and collectors didn’t know. It’s the ultimate con up there with forging a Van Gogh. Everyone wants the score, but few have the skills. Until the night of the gallery, when the piece was unveiled as the jewel of La Roche’s collection.

  “Authenticated by three different experts who were there that night, people flew in from all over the world to gush over the piece. Ask him how he found it. Was it truly taken by a thief? Did the villain’s descendants hide it, or did someone trip over it in an old storage shed? Dozens came for the story of his treasure hunt.

  “But the other guests. The ones who knew that painting was as fake as any story that went with it, they didn’t gush. And they only had one question for him.”

  “Who sold him the painting?” she whispered.

  Smirking, I said, “Go on.”

  “That painting was colored with bullshit and signed with a lie. The real prize wasn’t that it was found, it was that someone out there was so talented, they fooled the experts, the art community, and the world. A forger like that would be a legend. A legend any con man would want to be in bed with,” she said. “And that legend is La Roche. He forged La Libertad. He put up a huge advertisement that brought con artists out of the shadows to find the person who was just that good. When they asked him the right question, he knew they were good enough too.”

  “I asked him the right question,” I said. “I went to the gallery opening and saw La Libertad for myself. It wasn’t Molina’s masterpiece, but there is no denying it is one. I realized as we talked what La Roche was, and he did the same. When he invited me to his home for a chat a few days later, I didn’t go. Many others did.”

  “You’ve known about him the whole time.”

  I nodded.

  “What’s the deal with him now? What does he have to do with the Kings or finding Kieran?”

  “Since setting up his business, La Roche has formed multiple arrangements for him and his protégés. His most lucrative is an exclusive deal with the Kings.”

  “That makes sense,” she said. “The Cinco elite go to the Kings for their escorts, blood sport, gambling, and all kinds of illegal fun. Why not add the finer things to the list?”

  “I can’t calculate how much funny money Angelo laundered for La Roche through his underground casinos. Suckers threw real cash on the table, and walked out with worthless paper. Gives new meaning to the phrase ‘the house always wins.’”

  “Oh my gosh.” Adeline rocked back on her bum. “They’re clearing millions at pure profit.”

  “As for the artwork, all the currently deceased Angelo had to do was keep an ear to the ground for his rich friends looking to add to their collection. They’d kill the original owner in a burglary gone wrong, sell it to the buyer, and then La Roche supplies him with a horde of fakes that he can sell for private bids—”

  “—because no one will admit they bought a painting tied to a murder,” she cried. “They get paid three, four, six times for more worthless paper. It’s freaking genius.”

  I chuckled. “Even I have to admit it is. The Kings come by their reputation honest.”

  Adeline shot up, pacing the carpet. “So, if we’re going to drain their funds. It has to be La Roche. We sever that business deal and the Kings are out more money than they can recover from.” She spun on me. “Why’d you guys sit on this? You had the target. Knew who La Roche was. Why didn’t you do this instead of putting me on an auction block?”

  “Everything in its time, Redgrave. La Roche has worked with Angelo for three years. He knew him. Had a respect for him that was likely laced with fear. There was nothing anyone was going to say that would’ve made him break their deal. La Roche doesn’t even have extended cousins to threaten. The Merchants had no leverage. Now, we do.

  “A new leader has taken over. One who is all about the numbers, the cash, and the bottom line. I couldn’t predict they’d burn his club down, but a man like Thiago reacts unfavorably to disrespect and disloyalty. If he survived an attack against him, he’d cut off the money drip from his escorts to the Kings. Eighty-eight percent probability. That would trigger other events.”

  She smiled at me. “I’d give anything to know what it’s like in that head of yours, toy boy.” I let the nickname slide. Along with her straddling my lap and hooking her fingers behind my head. “What else did you surmise?

  “Enzo has big shoes to fill. He has to take over the casinos and manage without the clients the Merchants cost them through the Castian, fires, and bribes. On top of dealing with the loss of the escort money until he either makes it up to Thiago, or kills him. They’re right on the edge of that financial blow they won’t recover from, and for a dealmaker like Enzo, his most probable course is renegotiating the ones they have on the books for better terms.”

  “You think Enzo will demand La Roche cut the Kings in for more money?”

  “In simple terms, yes.”

  “What’s the Merchants’ plan?”

  “To approach La Roche with a deal of our own. It’s the ideal opportunity. Some thug he barely knows or trusts, taking advantage to hit him up for more money. We convince him to work exclusively for us, and you can buy every sandwich shop in the city.”

  “Oooh.” She pressed our foreheads together. “The little lady likes that,” she said, getting a laugh out of me. “But how is that going to work? The Kings still hold the advantage. They have the strength, the numbers, and the resources. We can’t funnel hundreds of thousands of dollars through our underground casinos. There’s the little issue that we don’t have any.”

  “Shit. I forgot all about that.” I threw my hands up. “Guess we’re out of luck.”

  Adeline whacked my arm. “Alright, asshole. I’m listening. Finish telling me the grand plan.”

  “It’s true the Merchants can’t offer everything the Kings do. Not yet,” I said. “But there is something he wants that the Kings will never be able to get him.”

  “More than millions of dollars?”

  “In addition to,” I corrected. “The Merchants have built up contacts too. Who do you think hires us for jobs? We can run the same stolen painting scams. Sinjin, Brutal, and our men will launder the money through gambling and the underground fighting circuit. The terms of the deal are typed up and saved on my computer. But to get La Roche to make an enemy of the most feared gang in the city, he’d need more.

  “We give him the ledger.”

  Adeline reeled away. “Excuse me? The fuck we are.”

  “Didn’t realize it was up to you.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Killian?” she cried. “We can’t give him the ledger.”

  “We can’t make the deal without it.”

  “We don’t even have it!”

  “We will,” I said calmly. “Because now we go back to your earlier question. How does going after La Roche get us Kieran?”

  “How does it?”

  I slipped out from under her, drifting to the board.

  “We told you that Kieran either is or was a King. Something is behind their rise to power, and forty years of ruling unchallenged. La Roche pulling out is a coup that could sink them. If Kieran is looking out for his old gang, he won’t sit back while that happens.

  “At some point in our talks with La Roche, someone will approach me and remind Killian Hunt of how much he has to lose by pissing off Kieran. They’ll warn me to back off, and then Kieran’s little assistant, if it’s not Kieran himself, will enjoy a stay in our dungeon until we’ve extracted every bit of information he has on the location of the ledger.”

  A profound silence filled the room.

  “You’re putting yourself out there as bait,” she said, voice soft.

  “Essentially.”

  “Because Kieran does have something on you.”


  “Yes.”

  There was a pause. “Any point in asking what it is?”

  “None.”

  “Okay, then let me ask this. Is it a secret against Killian Hunt the man, or Cash the Merchant?”

  “Kieran can’t possibly know I’m one of the leaders of the Merchants. Why do you think we wear masks?”

  “So Kieran doesn’t discover just how much of a hold he could have over you,” she said mostly to herself. “We have to make a deal with La Roche. The deal hinges on goods we can’t locate or deliver. And word has to get back to Kieran, where we hope he sends a messenger that gives up the final clue to the ledger under torture. Did I cover it all?”

  “You missed the part where ‘we’ means you and me. Just you and me. All five of us can’t be bait.”

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  “We’ll get to that, Redgrave. First things first. Dax Palmer is the assistant to La Roche’s assistant. Mercer will get a line on him that’ll get us La Roche’s schedule. After, he’ll get closer to Enzo. We have to find the right time to approach La Roche, and it must be after Enzo makes the demand for more money.”

  “This should be first,” she said. Adeline turned me to face her. “I know I bitched you out for not letting me be your backup, but a couple of cocky Blood Brothers is nothing against Kieran himself, or this La Roche who’s managed to fool the entire world into believing he’s a boring banker. You don’t throw wild cards in a game like this.”

  “I have every faith in you, Adeline.” I held her chin between two fingers. Visions of the night I held her on the roof swam through my mind. Her laugh. Soft hair. Warm body. Steady stream of carefully chosen questions and answers designed to fool worse than La Roche’s phony La Libertad. The days since then, the seduction techniques had been more effective than I wanted to admit.

  I gently kissed her lips. “You’re more than you seem.”

  ADELINE

  I lay out on her floor snow angel-style, laughing as Gianna outlined me in stacks of hundreds.