42. Emmett

Chapter 42

Emmett

I headed back to the auction room. The lightness in my chest at the prospect of seeing Jenn warred with the pressing need to get her out of the Casino. Before handing security my invitation, I cast one last glance at Martine’s office. No sign of Noah. The absence of his smug face should have been reassuring, but it only heightened my unease.

My team had done their job well—snagged both the scarab and the disc without triggering any alarms.

Not just minor irritants anymore, are we, Noah?

Once inside, I immediately checked the spot where I’d left Jenn. She wasn’t there. A quick scan of the room yielded nothing. No flash of gold dress, no glimpse of her radiant smile.

Where are you?

Dante stalked toward me, his usual frown—at least for me, since he was all smiles for Jenn—morphed into barely concealed anger.

“Who are you?” Dante demanded, his accent thickening with emotion.

What game was he playing?

“Emmett Stone,” I replied, falling back on my cover. “Antiquities?—”

“Che cazzo.” Dante’s hand sliced through the air, cutting off my practiced introduction. “You and Noah Pierce—how do you know each other?”

Pierce? We’d assumed Noah had been using an alias since we hadn’t been able to find any trace of him under Noah Turnbull, since we discovered he was alive and well.

“That’s none of your concern,” I said, keeping my voice level.

Dante’s jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with anger. “Are you two here to check up on me?”

“You two?” I asked, genuinely confused. Was he talking about Noah and me?

A bitter smile twisted Dante’s lips. “It’s always a pretty woman.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, still searching the room for Jenn. Had she stepped out, and I missed her? Passed right by her? Maybe she’d seen the commotion outside the ladies’ room? Not something I wanted to have to explain to her.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” he spat, ignoring my words.

“And I don’t have time for this.” I tried to push past him, but Dante’s hand landed square on my chest, stopping me in my tracks.

“You can tell my father I’m holding onto his secrets,” he growled, leaning in close. “He can stop sending his little spies.”

Spies? Massimo’s secrets?

Noah’s cryptic warning about the break-in at Jenn’s hotel room came back to me—Enzo thought Jenn was trying to seduce Dante to get at Massimo. How did this all fit together?

“Listen, Dante,” I said, forcing calm into my voice. We needed to leave before Noah could retaliate. “I don’t care what you think is going on, but I need to find Jenn right now. Have you seen her?”

“Why should I tell you anything?”

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “Because our mutual friend’s going to wander in here any second, and I’d rather not be here for it.”

Dante’s face contorted. “Friend?”

“Noah.”

A flash of disgust crossed Dante’s face. “He’s not my friend.” He paused, his brow furrowing. “I thought you were working with him?”

“You’re the one”—as the words left my mouth, I knew they were wrong—“working with him.”

Dante’s disgust deepened. “I’m not working with any of those?—”

“Where’s Jenn?” I asked, my gut twisting. I read people for a living, and I’d misjudged Dante from the start—he had no reason to react so strongly to the idea he was working with Fenix. If it were a con, he should have brushed it off, not looked like he’d swallowed a bottle of poison.

Dante’s head tilted, and the same realization I’d just had was mirrored in his eyes. “You’re not working with Fenix?”

“I said, ‘Where’s Jenn?’” I practically shouted, drawing a few curious glances from nearby guests.

“She was talking to Noah,” he said, pointing toward the side door. “In the?—”

I sprinted for the door, my heart pounding in my ears.

Jenn was alone with Noah. How could I have been so stupid? He hadn’t gone to see Martine—that was a distraction, so I’d finish the job with Jayce. Leaving Jenn unprotected.

How could I have left her vulnerable like that?

A bag flew over my head. Then the fist. The boot would come next.

I was safe.

But was Jenn?

I tore open the side door, sick fear climbing up and down my arms. The room was empty, with no sign of Jenn or Noah. Panic clawed at my throat.

“Brie, where is she?” I demanded, my voice echoing in the vacant space.

Over my earpiece, Brie said the words I didn’t want to hear. “Her GPS signal says she’s right next to you.”

I spun around, searching every corner of the room. Nothing. My mind raced, trying to puzzle out what happened. Had Noah found the tracker? Had he?—

No. I couldn’t let my mind go there.

And then?—

Ice spread up my spine, and I froze in place.

Her clutch.

On the floor.

Under a chair at the side of the room.

“Altitude reading,” I barked as I snatched her tiny bag from the floor. I fumbled with the buckle and tore it open. No bracelet.

Thank fuck! She still has it on.

Scarlett’s voice came through my earpiece, unusually quick for her. “She’s a hundred feet below you!”

My stomach dropped. The water exit. Of course.

I raced to the false wall concealing the elevator—thank god I knew this place so well—swinging it open with such force it slammed against the rock next to it. I jabbed the down button repeatedly, willing the elevator to arrive faster.

“C’mon, c’mon,” I muttered, staring at the ancient elevator dial.

It’s not moving, Emmett.

Even if someone was in the car, the dial should have been moving by now. Fuck. Was Noah in the elevator with her on the bottom floor? Or did he disable it somehow?

“Em, she’s moving southeast,” Scarlett’s voice came through again, the worry in her tone heightening my dread.

Southeast. Toward the water. Noah must have jimmied the door to stop it from coming back up.

Shit, shit, shit!

Rav’s calm voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. “The tender’s on its way back.”

I looked at the other door, which led to the rough-hewn and dangerous stairs down. The elevator still wasn’t moving. I couldn’t wait any longer.

“Rav, start up the boat,” I ordered, already moving toward the stairwell. “I’m taking the stairs. We can’t let them get away with her.”