The last few days had been a whirlwind of activity. Genevieve had been in the studio all hours of the day and night working on the finishing touches of her collection. Finn had taken to staying at her place, spending time with Noah so she could do what she needed. Aside from playing with his son, the best part of his day was when Genevieve walked through the back door.
He’d finished up his work for Hunt, submitted his report and eventually returned the items he’d taken from the safe. It had actually been more gratifying than he’d anticipated to help design the system and protocols Stone and Gray were implementing to protect the estate.
Tonight, he’d convinced Genevieve that she needed a break. He’d pressured her to leave the studio early. After running by to see Stone, he’d stopped by his place to pick up a few things.
Finn wondered how long it would be before he could convince Genevieve to move in with him. Her place was nice enough, but it was small. His had more room, although he’d need her help to baby-proof it for sure.
He was halfway back to Genevieve’s when an alert went off on his phone. He pulled over to the side of the road, looked at the screen and swore beneath his breath.
An alarm was going off at her studio.
Swiping to open the app, Finn pulled up the video feed. Flipping through the cameras, it took him several minutes to find the shadowy figure creeping through the office and into Genevieve’s work area.
No doubt Stone was on it, but he punched in his friend’s number, anyway.
Stone didn’t bother with a greeting when he answered. “Yeah, man. I see it.”
“I’m three minutes away,” Finn answered, pulling a U-turn in the middle of the road and heading back in that direction. “I can get there faster than anyone else.”
Stone’s voice was grim when he said, “I’m calling in reinforcements.”
“Thanks,” Finn responded, ending the call and tossing his phone onto the seat beside him. He wasn’t going to call Genevieve until he knew exactly what they were dealing with. No reason to upset her just yet.
Rushing into the back lot, he parked sideways in front of the back door.
“Dammit,” he muttered when he realized it was hanging open several inches.
He was not going to let this happen. Genevieve had worked too hard.
But he also didn’t want to alert whoever was inside that they’d been caught. Easing the door open, he slipped inside the studio. The place was pitch-black so he stood for several seconds, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.
It was difficult to wait, especially when he heard a loud scrape of metal against metal coming from deep inside Genevieve’s workroom.
Dread and white-hot anger curled through his stomach.
Slipping into the room, he expected to find some asshole standing in front of the open safe, rummaging through the drawers of jewels.
He was partially right. The doors to Genevieve’s vault hung wide open. Several of the drawers were pulled out. But they weren’t empty. Pieces spilled haphazardly over the lip of the drawers. A few jewels winked from the floor, scattered like a rainbow crumb trail across the room toward the front door.
Maybe he hadn’t been as quiet as he’d thought and had startled the thief.
The good news was several of Genevieve’s pieces were still there. The bad news was that the few jewels on the floor were by themselves, which meant they’d been broken apart from the rest of the design.
A string of curse words blasted across Finn’s brain.
Torn between wanting to catch whoever was ransacking Genevieve’s hard work and not wanting to let something valuable sit vulnerable on the floor, Finn dashed across the room.
But he scooped up the pieces on the floor as he went, stuffing them into the pockets of his slacks.
Bursting into the front room, the sound of sirens in the distance finally registered. Stone must have called the police along with the private team he employed.
He hated that Genevieve was about to spend her night talking with officers. Again. But that process would be easier and better if he could hand them a suspect.
Unfortunately, when Finn reached the front room, no one was there and the door leading onto the sidewalk was standing wide open.
A handful of police cruisers peeled up to the front of the building at the same time he raced out onto the sidewalk. Red-and-blue lights flashed right in his face, making him squint. Finn spun, first to the left and then to the right. The asshole couldn’t have gotten far.
But no one was there.
“On the ground,” one of the officers shouted.
Finn turned his attention back to the front of the store. Four or five cars were parked in an arch around the building, blocking off the street. A handful of cops had positioned themselves behind the open doors, guns drawn and pointed straight at him.
Well, that was enough to give any man pause.
“On the ground,” one of the officers shouted again.
Realizing he didn’t have much choice until he could explain the situation, Finn slowly raised his hands up over his head. Folding, he knelt onto the sidewalk.
“Let me explain.”
One of the cops holstered his weapon and walked behind him. “You’ll have plenty of time to explain.”
Finn ignored what they were doing as the officer grabbed his wrists, pulling them behind his back. His words were fast, trying to talk before the cuffs came out.
“The thief is getting away. I work for Stone Surveillance. We got an alert on our security system for Genevieve’s Designs. I was close so came to investigate. The back door was wide open. I chased someone through the building, but they slipped out the front door before I could catch them.”
Cold metal kissed his skin. The snap around his wrists was a sensation he’d promised himself he’d never experience again.
“The only person we saw in front of the building was you.”
Finn turned his head, looking again in both directions. He didn’t understand and couldn’t explain how that was true. The thief couldn’t have moved that quickly. How had they just disappeared?
Urging him up onto his feet, the officer led him over to one of the cruisers. “I’m going to search you now. Anything I need to know about? Weapons? Needles? Anything sharp?”
What the hell did the man take him for? “No. I did scoop up some of the jewels the thief had scattered across the floor. They’re in my pockets.”
A skeptical expression crossed the officer’s face. “Jewels, huh?”
“Look, I knew they weren’t safe just sitting on the floor. I needed to secure them.”
“Sure, you were just securing them.”
Frustration bubbled through him, eating at his patience like battery acid. “Call Anderson Stone. He’ll corroborate my story.”
“Oh, I’m certain he would. Being a convicted murderer.”
“He killed his fiancée’s rapist,” Finn growled.
The cop shrugged. “Doesn’t change the facts. But if what you say is true, we’ll sort things out soon enough. Until then, you’re being detained for questioning.”
How had the night gone so terribly sideways?
He’d planned to spend it at home with Genevieve and Noah. Listening to the belly-deep giggle his son made when he tickled him. Watching the light in Genevieve’s eyes when she looked at Noah. Making love to her until they were both exhausted.
Instead, he found himself ducking into the back of a cruiser for the second time in his life.
The worst part was looking through the chaos to find Genevieve standing on the sidewalk, once again watching him as he was carted away.
Pain and devastation stamped across every feature of her face.
How could this be happening again?
Genevieve watched as the officer pulled several gems out of Finn’s pockets and placed them inside an evidence bag. She’d gotten a call from Nick saying an alert had come up on the security system.
In between loading up Noah, she’d desperately tried to get in touch with Finn. But he hadn’t answered any of her calls.
Now she understood why.
Scenes from the last several weeks flashed through her mind. Conversations they’d had. Moments they’d shared.
Pain and hope twisted inside her. This couldn’t be right. She didn’t want to believe he could have done this. There had to be another explanation.
Like at Hunt’s.
But the evidence before her was hard to refute.
A huge part of her wanted to trust. Wanted to believe, like with the Star, that there was more to what was going on than met the eye.
Although one irrefutable fact about the Star was that he had stolen it. By his own admission he’d had it several days before returning it.
She didn’t trust her own judgment when it came to Finn DeLuca. Was she clinging to hope simply because she wanted to? Was she being blind and stupid, ignoring the evidence in front of her?
Watching the officer duck Finn’s head down so he could be loaded into the back of the cruiser didn’t help at all. In fact, it made her sick to her stomach.
The officer obviously thought there was enough evidence to take him in.
“Genevieve,” Nick said, coming up behind her. Wrapping his arms around her, he gently turned her away from the scene. Urging her into the shelter of his arms, he held her tight. “I’m so sorry.”
Stroking his hands up and down her back, he murmured, “I watched the feed on my way over. So pissed. Because there was nothing I could do but watch as he popped open the safe like it was nothing and took everything you’d worked so hard for.”
“You saw the video? Clearly? It was him?”
“No mistake at all. I’m going to turn it over to the police, although I’m not sure they’ll need it. You saw. They caught him with some of your pieces in his pockets.”
The sick, hollow sensation spread from her belly to her chest. The show. “I need to see.”
She needed irrefutable proof.
Pulling free, Genevieve spun on her heel, heading straight for the front door. A gentleman there attempted to detain her, until she explained the studio was hers.
Walking inside was like waking up in the middle of a nightmare. The heavy safe doors stood wide open. A couple of her pieces spilled over the edge of the drawers. But she could see where the settings had been snapped.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Genevieve refused to cry. It wouldn’t do any good. She needed to assess the damage and see if there was anything salvageable.
Her equipment had been moved, tables pushed out of place and a couple chairs overturned. Picking her way through the rubble, she pulled open the drawers in the safe, one after the other, devastated at what she found.
Dropping to a crouch, she pressed the heels of her hands against her stinging eyes.
Nick’s hand landed on her back. She knew he was trying to give her support, but right now, the last thing she wanted was to be touched.
But because she knew he meant well, she didn’t shake him off.
“It’s ruined. Everything,” she finally croaked out. Her mind spun. In a matter of days, she was going to be in breach of contract with Mitchell Brothers. Legitimately, they could come after her for everything she had. They’d sunk a lot of resources into the release of her collection and in anticipation of selling the pieces in all their stores for the Christmas shopping season.
She had nothing to give them.
“I’m ruined.” The words were out of her mouth before she realized they’d formed in her mind. “What am I going to do? How am I going to provide for Noah?”
Goddamn Finn!
“Why? Why would he do this? He doesn’t need the money. Hell, he doesn’t even need the challenge. It doesn’t make sense.”
Nick’s fingers squeezed her shoulder. “Who knows how the man thinks? He’s never needed the money from the things he’s stolen. You know that’s not why he does it. He’s sick. He has a compulsion he can’t control.”
No, that wasn’t true. Although Finn’s words from several days ago rang in her ears. He went to Stone, itchy, he’d said. Stone had provided him a legitimate outlet.
Maybe it hadn’t been enough?
But why destroy her pieces? She could understand Finn taking them—no, understand was the wrong word. She could have dealt with him taking them. But ripping her work apart?
It made no sense. He had nothing to gain from doing that. He’d bought three of her pieces, dammit. What purpose would this serve?
None that she could think of.
But the evidence was hard to ignore. And she’d always said Finn DeLuca had a purpose for everything he did. Maybe she just didn’t have all the pieces yet to understand.
Slowly, Nick folded down so he was crouched beside her. Looking her straight in the eye, a sad expression pulling against the corners of his eyes, he said, “As much as I hate to say it, maybe it’s time you called your grandfather. He could help you.”
Oh, wouldn’t Lackland simply love that.
The memory of his sneer and disparaging words from the gala ran through her head. When she’d left to live on her own, she’d promised herself that no circumstance existed where she’d go back. Not only did she deserve better than the toxic, abusive environment her grandfather created, but so did her son.
Unfortunately, her son also needed to eat and have a roof over his head. And if Mitchell came after her for what they could...even those basic necessities were in jeopardy.
Once again, she’d been naive. Obviously, there was a circumstance where she would go back to her grandfather.
Providing for her son would be worth anything, including subjecting herself to that environment.
Lackland was going to relish not only that she was crawling back, begging. But that she was doing it after Finn had ruined her.
Again.
Genevieve stared at the phone sitting on the kitchen table in front of her. She’d spent hours at the studio, evaluating exactly where she was and speaking with the officers.
After viewing the video Nick showed her...it was difficult to remain hopeful that there was an explanation.
While she hadn’t seen his face—because he wouldn’t be that sloppy—Finn had made one mistake. The shadowy figure had been wearing the same clothes Finn had been when he’d run out the front door of her studio, her jewels stuffed in his pockets.
There were two phone calls she needed to make, both of which she was dreading. Mitchell Brothers and her grandfather.
If there was one thing Lackland had taught her, it was to get the task you were dreading the most out of the way first.
Snatching up the phone, Genevieve flicked open the screen and quickly scrolled to her contacts. And the number she’d hoped never to need again.
Hitting the button, she dialed her grandfather, dread and disappointment churning in her belly.
“Genevieve.”
Even the sound of his voice made her want to vomit.
“I hear you’ve had some excitement today.”
Of course he’d heard. Her grandfather made sure he was aware of everything important that happened in the city.
“Yes.”
“Such a shame your collection with Mitchell has been ruined.”
He didn’t even attempt to hide the pure glee filling his voice.
Genevieve desperately wished she could tell him that everything was going to be fine. That she had the situation well in hand. But she didn’t. And years of dealing with the man had taught her, it was easier to keep her words simple and short. To let him gloat and believe he’d won. It made the unpleasant experience end faster.
And right now, that’s what she wanted. To get through this conversation so she could take the next steps forward.
“I assume you’re contacting me, for the first time in three years, to ask for my assistance.”
Genevieve gritted her teeth, wishing she could keep the word behind her teeth. Unfortunately, that couldn’t happen. “Yes.”
“Hmm. I wonder, my dear, if you remember my words when you left, pregnant and disgraced?”
Of course she remembered his words. He’d been bitter and mean. Telling her that she was destined to fail at any attempt to be self-sufficient because she was stupid, incompetent and untrustworthy.
But it wouldn’t matter what she said at this point. Lackland was going to delight in reminding her. No doubt that was part of what he was most looking forward to.
“I told you that you’d fail on your own. No matter what, you’d manage to screw things up and would need to come crawling back to me.”
“Yes, Grandfather.”
“And here we are. Exactly where I said you’d be.”
Genevieve closed her eyes and waited for him to make his demands, because there was no denying that he would.
“And if I remember correctly, I promised you that I wouldn’t lift a hand to help you at that point.”
Of course he had, but Genevieve knew he’d never stick by that statement. Not when he had the perfect opportunity to have her back under his thumb, a puppet he could control.
Her grandfather liked nothing more than controlling people.
“However, three years is a long time and perhaps I was a bit hasty back then. I’d welcome you back into the family and at Reilly, but I have a few demands.”
Of course he did. Genevieve had expected nothing less.
“I refuse to accept the son of that thief as my great-grandson.”
Genevieve sat straight up in her chair. What exactly was he saying?
“However, I recognize that he’s your son. So, I’m willing to accept you back on the condition that your son is sent to boarding school. Your focus should be on Reilly and the designs you’ll be creating for our company, anyway.”
No, there was no way Genevieve would ever agree to send her toddler to boarding school. “He’s not even three yet,” she ground out.
“I’m aware. I’m certain I can find a school willing to accept him despite his age. Better he grow up in that environment, anyway. The sooner he realizes that he’s alone in the world and won’t be accepted as part of this family, the better.”
She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to curse both her grandfather and Finn for putting her in this position.
Lackland didn’t even wait to hear her response. “Those are my terms. Take them or leave them,” he said, before cutting the connection.
The dial tone buzzed through Genevieve’s head, along with anger and despair.