The Russian Billionaire: A Romantic Suspense Novel
painting?”I stay silent.
“You’ll go to prison, Raine. That’s what will happen. You’ll have a prison record for the rest of your life! Finding work with a criminal record of dishonesty will be near impossible. You want to risk that?”
I look her in the eye. “Yes.”
“No, I won’t let you do it. There is no way I am going to let one of my children sacrifice herself for the other.” Mom can barely repress the shiver of horror that runs through her body.
“It’s my decision, Mom. I’m an adult now.”
She shakes her head, her eyes pleading. “So you’re willing to become a thief?”
I swallow hard and tell her the same lie Catherine told me. “It won’t be stealing. I’ll just be taking back something that he stole and allowing it to go to the rightful owner.”
“If you believe that you’re not the girl I thought you were,” my mother mutters.
I throw my ace card. “So you’d rather watch Maddy die?”
Mom flinches as if I’d hit her.
“Mom, please give me your blessings because I am going to do this.”
“I can’t give you my blessings to go ahead and destroy yourself.”
“What other choice do we have?”
My mother drops her face into her hands and I move forward and take her in my arms. I let her sob her poor heart out while I hold onto her tightly and say again and again, “It’s going to be okay, Mom. Everything is going to be fine.”
When she stops, she pulls away from me and says, “Call that woman. I want to speak to her.”
So I call Catherine Moriarty, and put the phone on speaker mode.
“Hello, this is Raine, the bartender you spoke to tonight.”
“Hello, how nice to hear from you again,” she drawls.
“My mom wants to have a word with you.”
“Of course, put her on,” she says confidently.
“What happens if my daughter gets caught while she is switching the painting?”
“The billionaire in question cannot afford any negative publicity at the moment. She will be sent away from his apartment in some humiliation, but she will be paid handsomely for that shame.”
“What if he calls the police?”
“We have… people in the force who will take care of her.”
“What if the billionaire gets violent with her?”
“Mmm… Kostantin Tsarnov has never shown violent tendencies towards women. It is not his style.”
My mother takes a deep breath. “Why did he steal the painting from your client if it is of low value?”
“The theft is part of a long-standing feud between two families.”
My mother turns to look at me, her expression is one of defeat. She’s hoping Catherine will say something that would make it impossible for me to take the job, but she has found nothing. She shakes her head at me sadly and leaves the bathroom quietly.
I pick up the phone. “What do you need me to do next?”
“Can we meet tomorrow?”
“I’m working tomorrow, but I have an hour for lunch.”
“Fantastic.” Then she smoothly arranges for us to meet at a restaurant close to my workplace and ends the conversation. I stare at the phone for a few seconds, then I go out into the kitchen where my mother is making tea for us.
We sit at the kitchen table and drink our tea together.
“It’s going to be okay, Mom.”
She just nods, her expression wretched and gloomy.
Raine
We meet at a French restaurant. Very upmarket. The hostess actually looks down her nose at me when I arrive. Catherine Moriarty is already at the table sipping from her glass of San Pellegrino. She smiles when she sees me. If she had intended to intimidate me, she is going to be disappointed. I have never eaten in such an expensive restaurant, but I know how they work and exactly how the diners behave like I know the back of my hand.
“Good. You are on time. I hate it when people are late,” she says, when I arrive at her table.
A waiter materializes out of nowhere and effortlessly pulls out the chair opposite hers. I slip into it and thank him. He nods at me and withdraws. Someone else comes forward to ask if I would like something to drink.
“Martini, no olives,” I say.
“Of course,” he says with a nod, and leaves.
I turn my attention back to Catherine.
Her eyes are assessing. “I’m glad you said yes. I have a good feeling about you. You’re the right physical type, and you are intelligent. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s stupid girls. There are too many of them in my line of work.”
Her phone rings. She picks it up and says, “Yes. Tell Mr. Nikitin everything is set. He has nothing to worry about.” Then she looks up at me and with a glitter of satisfaction, adds, “I’ve found the perfect bait.”
A waiter carrying a basket full of all kinds of bread comes by. Catherine shakes her head and waves him away. I point to a seeded bun and he lays it on the small plate on my right with a pair of tongs.
My glass of martini is put in front of me. I pick it up and take a small sip. Catherine is still listening to something the other person on the phone is saying. So I break a piece of bread and begin to butter it. Catherine ends her call, leans back on her chair and stares at me. There is a strange expression on her face.
“What is it?” I ask.
She flashes the first genuine smile I’ve seen from her. “You know what?”
I play her game. “What?”
“You’re perfect for Konstantin Tsarnov.”
“Why?”
“Let’s just call it an instinct. I’ve been in this business a long time and I can tell when I have scored. When I’ve found that one girl that will be perfect for the job.”
“What if he doesn’t take me to his apartment?”
“Then you will either have to walk away with just $50,000, an amount I have a feeling is not enough for what you need, or you can arrange another date and try again.” She shrugs eloquently. “It will be