Chapter 40

Fear lurched through Colette. She couldn't see who'd entered, because Landon jumped to his feet, putting himself between her and the door.

Andrei reached into his pocket as Rolf rose slowly, his expression hard.

Footsteps echoed in the vast space, the newcomer's steps unhurried.

"I heard that there was a dramatic incident in England last night, involving three Interpol agents—from three different NCBs—taking down a ten-man Bratva crew." The speaker was male, his accent either Spanish or Portuguese.

"Where did you hear that?" Landon asked.

Colette tried to peer around the wall that was Landon. Who was this guy?

"Imagine my surprise, when I heard there was a woman involved too. The situation sounded familiar."

"You knew where we were going," Andrei drawled, playing with the knife that was now in his hand.

"I thought you were joking," the newcomer said. "Because I didn't think you three were that stupid."

Colette's eyes narrowed. Was he some high-ranking Interpol agent? She didn't like the way he was talking to Landon and the others.

"What precisely do you find stupid?" Rolf was back to cool and formal.

"Taking on a Bratva crew by yourselves. Launching an attack that, in a different place, would be considered warfare."

"It wasn't warfare, it was a fucking rescue mission," Landon snarled.

"Did you go there with a plan? Did you have any idea who you'd be fighting? I don't think you did." The condescension in his words was mild, but there.

Enough. Colette swung her legs out of the calf rests and stood. Landon, Andrei, and Rolf turned to her, Landon and Andrei acting like a living screen as Rolf helped her wrap the blanket around herself. Landon started to lead her away, back to the private rooms, but that wasn't why she'd stood up.

The newcomer and Andrei were still trading barbed comments as Colette stepped out from behind Landon, smiling.

She had a lot of pent-up rage, born of terror and frustration, and this man had just walked in here slinging insults as if he had every right.

The stranger was tall and lean, like a swimmer or a dancer. His hair the brown of soil after the rain, his eyes a startling bright green.

He was wearing Dom leathers.

That surprised her, but she didn't let it show.

"Hello," she purred. "And who are you?"

"Mateus Carvalho." Mateus looked her up and down. "You're the club sub who was kidnapped?"

"I was, rather traumatically." She stepped off the stage, the blanket sweeping the floor after her like a train.

Landon was a step behind her. Knowing he was there, a dangerous presence at her back, made her bolder.

"That's unfortunate," Mateus said.

"Unfortunate? No, I think it's more than that." Colette smiled. "And I should know."

Mateus looked a little uncertain, his gaze jumping from her to Landon.

"No, look at me and tell me again that my kidnapping and torture was unfortunate."

Mateus sucked in air, then cleared his throat. "I'm sorry?—"

"Are you?" Colette circled him, swishing the blanket dress as she completed a revolution.

"I am. I misspoke, and that was crude of me."

"It was. I thought maybe you were one of their bosses, but you're not, are you?" She tipped her head.

"I do not work for Interpol," he confirmed.

"Then why do you think they have to answer to you?" Colette raised a brow.

Mateus blinked.

"You're clearly a Dom, so I'm going to guess. You think your questions should always get answered, because knowledge is power. And control. And you don't just want control, you need it. I bet you have a job where you can force people to answer every one of your questions."

Mateus reared back like she'd slapped him.

Andrei barked out a laugh.

Colette stepped into Mateus's space. "You saw me when you walked in. Not all of me. Nothing specific, but you knew there was a woman lying on a bondage chair. Vulnerable. Probably naked. You knew they'd gone to rescue someone, so if you didn't also realize the woman on the chair was probably that same person they'd rescued, you're stupid. And you're not stupid, are you?"

"I…Your Dom…"

"My Dom is right here, but it isn't about him, is it? It's about you."

Colette knew her reaction was out of proportion. The man was an asshole, but he'd apologized, and looked like he meant it. She was verbally attacking Mateus because she hadn't been able to tell Damien exactly what she thought of him.

"You never stopped to ask if you walking in would scare or harm me."

"I—"

"You didn't stop to think what it would sound like, to hear you tell the men who saved my life, that they were stupid for their willingness to do that. That as far as you're concerned, their being ‘smart' by whatever definition of that you use, is of equal value to my life."

"I didn't?—"

"Don't be ashamed. If that's what you think, say it. Tell them it would have been better for them to leave me there. To wait until they had a plan you deemed smart, even if it meant I endured more torture and mutilation and rape."

Her words hung heavy in the air, and Mateus looked horrified.

"I'm sorry." Mateus took a deep breath. "I had no right to question them. I was concerned about the reports I was hearing, which did not include anything about what happened to you."

"And in your experience women who are kidnapped are treated well?"

Mateus looked haunted for a moment. "No. No, they are not. I came here wanting answers, because I didn't know or understand what happened." He held her gaze. "You're right. I do expect to have my questions answered. But I didn't think through my actions, and I'm sorry."

Colette still had a lot of pent-up rage that hadn't been spent when she stabbed Damien. But Mateus's apology stole her momentum.

"Sometimes I let my desire for knowledge and the truth lead me astray."

"Truth?" She clucked her tongue. "Aren't you too old to believe in fairy tales?" Colette backed up without looking. Landon was there, gently holding her against his chest with one arm. She leaned back against him, feeling utterly safe. It was like walking through the woods alone in the dark, except when something tried to attack, a wolf far more dangerous than anyone or anything else in those woods appeared out of the darkness, ready to defend her.

Mateus blinked. "You think truth is a fairytale?"

"Absolutely."

"It's…not."

"Oh, it is." Colette smiled.

Mateus cleared his throat. "What did you say your name was?"

"Another question? I didn't say what my name is."

"I can find out," Mateus said gently. "I'll get the report."

"Then you'll get the name I gave. Will that be the truth?"

Landon squeezed her gently. "You won. Stop taunting him."

"Why? I'm enjoying myself."

"I can tell." Landon smiled against her hair. "But Rolf is going to start banging his head against a wall."

Colette tipped her head back against Landon's chest, looking at him upside down.

He kissed her forehead, and a ghost flittered through her, there and gone. "Feel better?" Landon asked.

"A bit."

"It's good to see you like this."

"As long as it's not you I'm taunting?"

"You're welcome to taunt me." Landon turned her gently, bending to whisper in her ear. "As long as you're willing to take the punishment."

Colette inhaled sharply.

Landon searched her face. "Was that a good or bad gasp?" He sounded so worried that it made her smile.

"Good," she assured him. "Very good."

Worry that how she submitted, and what she'd allow, were both irrevocably changed, bit at her, but she pushed it away for another time.

Rolf walked over, and he did look like he was ready to start whacking his head against a wall. "Mateus, this is Colette?—"

"You're spoiling it," she told him with a sigh.

Rolf stared at her, then shook his head. "Colette, this is Mateus." Rolf looked at the other man. "I'd like to thank you again for taking care of the club last night while we were gone."

"He's one of the Doms in residence?" Colette asked.

"Prospective," Landon said. "Though after this, you probably scared him off."

"Not all the club subs are capable of verbally eviscerating Doms who need it," Andrei said. "More's the pity."

Mateus shook his head. "I'm not scared off. She was right to point out what I was doing. I can be an asshole. That was…" Mateus looked at her appreciatively, but there was no threat in it. "Did you go to law school?"

Colette smiled and shook her head. "Far from it."

"Ah, too bad. That sort of vicious verbal attack is hard to teach, and makes for excellent barristers."

"Before we continue this conversation," Landon said. "Rolf, we need to finish what we were doing."

Colette started at the floor, dread sliding through her.

"I'll go," Mateus said.

"No, if you would just wait, maybe in one of the private rooms," Rolf said. "I want to ask you what you heard about last night. And who told you."

"Of course." Mateus hesitated. "And if I could be of help...?"

"No," Landon said immediately.

Mateus nodded, then headed for the door into the private hall, as Landon helped Colette back onto the stage.

Mateus stopped, turning back, his gaze on the floor. "Colette…what did you say your surname was?"

"Beaumont," Andrei answered for her, smiling at Colette's narrow-eyed look.

Mateus frowned, clearly lost in thought. Landon helped her drop the blanket—making sure he was blocking Mateus's view—without it catching, then lifted her onto the bondage chair as she kept an arm across her breasts.

"Colette Beaumont, the art thief?" Mateus asked slowly.

Andrei started to laugh. Rolf sighed, and Landon looked like he was trying to decide if he needed to throw Mateus through a window.

"Thief?" Colette relaxed and smiled. "What do you think I stole?"

"Stop." Rolf's tone whipped with command. "Mateus, turn around and face the wall, but keep talking. Your job is to distract her."

Landon bent to Colette. "If you don't want him here…"

"I want to know what it is he thinks I stole. Hypothetically."

"He's dangerous," Landon warned her, even as he helped her sit back and lifted her legs into position. "Well, powerful."

"Oh?"

"He's an investigator with the International Criminal Court."

"Oh." She looked over at Mateus, who stood with his back to them. The International Criminal Court prosecuted genocide and war crimes. Now she felt a little bad, because he really did need both the truth and his questions answered, for him to effectively do his job. She'd be pushy about getting answers too, if getting those answers meant stopping genocides.

"So what did she steal?" Andrei asked Mateus.

"Hypothetically," Colette added, moving her arm once she was correctly seated.

"I had a friend who was suing a rather…prominent…Austrian family," Mateus said. "He was seeking restitution of several pieces of art that belonged to my friend's client."

"Austrian?" Colette said with mock casual interest.

Landon, Rolf, and Andrei were gathered around her, talking quietly and looking at her chest. She stared at the pitched roof, ignoring them. She'd meant it when she said she didn't think she wanted to know what Rolf was going to do.

"Yes. The family came into possession of the art after WWII."

"Of course they did."

"My friend's client had exhausted all other options for restitution. The Austrian family wouldn't budge."

"Frustrating."

"The legal battle was going to take years. Cost more than the client could afford, but my friend was going to do his best, donate as much time as he could. They both knew that, by the time they got the art back, the client might just have to turn around and sell it to pay off the debts incurred."

"To do all that and then not get to enjoy the art is—" Colette sucked in air as something scraped the very tip of her nipple.

Landon was feeding thin leather straps through the rings, covering her nipples. "I'm sorry, love. I know it hurts."

"You were saying?" Mateus's tone was headed towards irritated, clearly annoyed by her failure to finish her sentence.

Landon turned to say something to the other man, but she touched his arm and shook her head. Mateus was exactly what she needed, and she had a sneaking feeling that he was being slightly rude on purpose. Then again maybe that was just his default setting.

"Winning the case, but losing the art, would not have been justice," she finished.

"Untrue."

She tsked. "Truth, again?"

"Winning the case would create a legal record stating that the Austrian family did not own, nor have rights to, the art in question."

"The Egger family—I believe you said their name was Egger, yes?" Colette taunted.

"I did not say their name." Mateus bit off each word.

"You did."

"I did not."

"If you didn't, then how would I know the name?" Colette said with mock bewilderment.

"Ms. Beaumont…"

"If your friend had won the case, the Ochs family?—"

"I never said the name of the client."

"—would have a hollow victory. They'd have no choice but to sell the paintings. They'd get money, yes. Enough to pay their lawyers, and maybe some left over. But the art that hung in their family's home—before that very same family was torn apart—would be lost to them."

Colette closed her eyes as someone gripped the base of her breast, holding it still.

"They would never sit in front of that Klimt?—"

"I never said it was a Klimt painting.".

"—and wonder if their great, great grandmother felt the same wonder and longing they experienced when she looked at it."

The leather strap laced through the nipple ring pressed down, firm against her flesh.

Colette cried out, hands rising to push everything and everyone away. Her nipple was smashed between the leather strap and the hard metal laced through her flesh, and it hurt.

"Colette," Landon barked, "put your hands down."

Pain rolled through her, making it hard to think. She whimpered, but Landon caught her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Hands down."

She trusted that voice, those eyes. Had learned to cave obeying his commands. She lowered her hands, desperately gripping the edges of the spanking chair.

"Don't move."

There was a loud metallic snap, and a slight tug on her nipple. She whimpered as the weight of the ring shifted, once more laying against her breast.

"Switch sides," Rolf said.

She was briefly alone, no hands on her anywhere, as people shuffled around. Then her other breast was gripped at the base.

Colette tensed and whimpered, knowing what came next.

"The Ochs family think they have the originals, but they don't," Mateus said, voice slightly raised.

Colette's eyes snapped open in outrage. "Are you saying someone gave the Ochs family fakes?" How dare he, she had given them the originals she stole from the Eggers.

After her forger made a couple copies for a rainy day.

"Yes. The Eggers didn't return the art, so it has to be fake."

"They didn't? I thought there was a letter in with the paintings when they were returned to the Ochs. A letter from the Eggers, acknowledging the rightful ownership of the paintings."

"A letter that was forged."

"Is that what the Eggers said? It was forged?"

"No." Mateus sounded irritated.

"Did the Eggers say they still had the art?"

"No."

"Did they say it was stolen?"

"No."

Mateus sounded ready to chew nails. Heh.

Of course they hadn't admitted to a theft. The Eggers didn't want the press, didn't want anyone looking too hard at them or their art.

Her smile became a grimace when leather pressed down on tender flesh. She briefly raised her arms.

"Hands," Landon commanded in a firm tone.

"Then why do you doubt the art is real?" Colette asked desperately, trying not to picture what they were doing to cause those slight tugs at her nipple.

"Because there's no way the Eggers would have willingly returned it. Someone stole those paintings, forged the letter, and gave everything to the Ochs."

"Do you know the British fairytale about Robin Hood?" Colette asked.

"I thought I was the one who believed in fairytales."

"You do insist on mentioning truth."

"I can't tell who's winning," Andrei whispered.

"Colette," Landon and Rolf said at the same time.

"Why would a thief risk stealing the paintings and forging a letter to secure the provenance?" Mateus asked. "The Ochs didn't pay them." There was a short silence. "I checked."

"Maybe it was because private collectors like the Eggers are everything that is wrong with the art world."

"The noble thief? Another fairy tale, Colette."

"Or maybe the Klimt, Matisse, and Allori paintings weren't the only things this…hypothetically…thief took."

"I never said it was three paintings. Or the names of the artists."

"Didn't you? Surely you must have."

The jolt as they cut the second ring wasn't as bad, and Colette sagged.

"Just a bit more," Landon said, stroking her forehead. "Rolf is going to file the edges to make sure they're smooth, then remove them."

She nodded jerkily.

"Just a little longer, love," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"What else did you take, and how much is it worth?" Mateus asked. "I find myself morbidly curious about the going rate for art theft."

Colette smiled at Landon. "Did you really quit your job?"

His brows rose. "You want to talk about this now?"

She nodded.

He exhaled. "Yes. They told me to go home and wait, rather than look for you. So I quit."

Her heart clenched, but there'd be time to talk about that later.

"In that case," she pulled him down so she could whisper in his ear. "I took a jadeite necklace worth ten million euro. I wore it like a collar at a club and asked the first Dom I saw to take me up on the stage and use me. I wanted everyone to have a chance to admire the necklace as he flogged me and then bent me over and fucked me." She smiled against his ear. "Then sold it."

Colette let go of Landon. He straightened slowly, staring at her in shock.

"What did she say?" Andrei demanded. "It has to be good."

"Pay attention." Rolf was carefully scraping the cut end of the nipple ring with a metal file. She was doing her best to ignore the odd vibration it caused.

Colette laughed at Landon's expression. "Imagine all the fun things I can tell you now."

"Will any of your stories involve you not doing something dangerous or illegal?" he asked faintly.

"Only mildly dangerous," she assured him. "Nothing like…recent events."

"How much?" Mateus asked again. "What's the price for vigilante art justice?"

"Ten million," Landon replied.

Colette smacked him. "Don't talk to the authorities. You're never going to survive as a civilian."

"Huh, that's not much, given the value of the paintings," Mateus mused.

Rolf put the file aside and looked at Landon, who in turn looked at Colette.

Her amusement faded.

Landon helped her sit up, swinging her legs down. "I'm going to hold you," he said. "While Rolf takes them out."

"It's going to hurt?"

"It shouldn't," Rolf said slowly. "I smoothed down all the sharp places."

"Shouldn't," she repeated.

Landon switched places with her, bracing himself on the side of the chair seat and spreading his legs, then pulling her back against him. Landon wrapped one arm around her ribs, just below her breasts, the other above them, holding her torso still and her arms trapped at her sides.

The cut rings still dangled from her nipples, the pull even more painful after all the poking and prodding. The charms were gone, and she was grateful for that.

Andrei stood beside Landon, holding two pads soaked in orange-brown liquid.

"Once they're out, Andrei will put the iodine on, then a bandage," Rolf said. "They will heal fast. Assuming there's no infection, the holes will close in a matter of days, if not hours."

She was glad, but right now she didn't care about anything beyond getting through these next moments.

"Do it, please," she said when Rolf hesitated. "I can't take…I want him off me. Out of me."

Landon tightened his hold as Rolf stepped forward.

He did it fast, the pain sharp as he slipped first one, and then the other, ring free.

Colette screamed through her teeth, glad Landon was holding her. Andrei painted each nipple with iodine, then slapped on prepped bandages. Landon took over, running his thumb over the sticky parts to make sure the bandages adhered to her breasts.

"It's over," Landon said. "It's over, love."

Colette turned and climbed into his lap, wrapping herself around him. She buried her face in his neck and let herself cry every tear she hadn't shed while Damien hurt her.