Chapter 2 - The Man Who Wore Russo’s Pin
Callum’s black sedan waited outside.
Sadie stopped beneath the awning.
“I’m not getting in.”
Callum looked at her.
“You can barely stand.”
“I’ll call a cab.”
“No.”
“You don’t get to order me around because somebody attacked me.”
“That isn’t why I’m ordering you around.”
“Then why?”
“Because you’re terrified of somebody who works for me.”
Rain hammered the street.
Callum removed his coat and placed it around her shoulders.
Sadie stared at him.
“Who was he?” Callum asked.
She looked away.
Callum’s bodyguard, Marco, opened the rear door.
“Boss?”
Callum ignored him.
“Sadie.”
“He called himself Nolan.”
Marco’s expression changed.
Callum noticed.
“You know him?”
Marco hesitated.
“Nolan Price.”
Sadie’s eyes immediately dropped.
Callum turned toward Marco.
“Explain.”
“He handles transportation for Victor.”
Victor Russo.
Callum’s cousin.
Callum looked back at Sadie.
“What did he want?”
“Nothing.”
“Wrong answer.”
Sadie’s jaw tightened.
“You hired me to authenticate art. Not to become involved in whatever this is.”
“You became involved when Nolan put his hands on you.”
“I don’t need revenge.”
“Neither do I.”
She laughed bitterly.
“What do you call this?”
“Accounting.”
That silenced her.
Callum opened the car door himself.
“Hospital.”
“No.”
“Sadie.”
“No hospital.”
“Why?”
“Because then there’s a report.”
Callum stared at her.
“And?”
“Nolan told me there are officers on Victor’s payroll.”
Marco swore quietly.
Callum’s gaze sharpened.
“What exactly happened tonight?”
Sadie hesitated.
Then she climbed into the car.
Callum followed.
As the sedan moved away from the Continental, she finally spoke.
“Nolan approached me outside the museum.”
“What time?”
“Eight twenty.”
“He knew you were meeting me.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did he say?”
Sadie looked down at her hands.
“He asked about the Caravaggio.”
Callum’s eyes narrowed.
Nobody outside his inner circle was supposed to know about it.
“He wanted the authentication report?”
“He wanted me to change it.”
“To what?”
“Fake.”
Callum went silent.
Sadie continued.
“He said I was going to certify the sketch as a modern forgery.”
“But it’s genuine.”
“Yes.”
“Why would Victor want an eight-million-dollar work declared worthless?”
“That’s what frightened me.”
Callum leaned forward.
“Explain.”
“If I certify it as fake, it can be sold privately for almost nothing.”
“And afterward?”
“It disappears.”
Callum understood.
Victor could buy the supposedly worthless artwork through an intermediary, then resell it later with corrected provenance.
Millions would vanish from Callum’s operation.
Sadie looked at him.
“Nolan offered me fifty thousand dollars.”
“You refused.”
“Yes.”
“And that’s when he hurt you?”
“He grabbed me. I tried to leave.”
Her voice remained controlled.
“He pushed me against a car. I kicked him and ran.”
Callum’s jaw tightened.
Sadie noticed.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Do whatever you’re thinking.”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“Yes, I do.”
For the first time that evening, Callum almost smiled.
Then Sadie said something that erased it.
“There’s more.”
Callum waited.
“Nolan said Victor already has buyers.”
“For the Caravaggio?”
“No.”
Sadie looked directly at him.
“For everything.”
“What does that mean?”
“I think your cousin is selling your collection behind your back.”
Marco turned from the front seat.
“Boss…”
Callum raised one finger.
Silence.
“Sadie, how certain are you?”
She opened her portfolio.
“Certain enough that I brought this.”
She pulled out a photograph.
Callum took it.
A shipping manifest.
Seventeen paintings.
All owned by companies controlled by Callum.
All scheduled for overseas transfer.
Tomorrow morning.
Callum looked at Marco.
“Where’s Victor?”
“Russo warehouse on Fulton.”
Callum checked his watch.
9:31.
“Change of plans.”
Sadie grabbed his sleeve.
“You cannot take me there.”
Callum looked down at her hand.
“You’re right.”
She released him.
“Thank you.”
“You’re going somewhere protected.”
“I’m going home.”
“No.”
“Callum—”
It was the first time she had used his first name.
Both noticed.
Callum’s voice softened.
“Someone in my family knows where you work, what train you take, and what time you meet me.”
Sadie’s anger faded.
“You think they know where I live.”
“I think we’re going to assume they know everything.”
“And where exactly am I supposed to go?”
Callum answered without hesitation.
May you like
“My house.”
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