"It was probably just a coincidence though, right?" I suggested, testing Desirae's loyalty to Artemisia. She had kept this secret to herself for this long despite her obvious suspicion. But maybe she was looking for me to confirm it.

Desirae nodded slowly, playing along. "It certainly wouldn't be uncommon for a professor to offer a sample of their paint thinner to a student."

"Right." I nodded back, going with the story.

"And even if she had hypothetically poisoned Dr. Burnley back then in a jealous rage, it's not like she had access to Georgiy's vodka in Sicily."

"No. Definitely not." I shook my head in eager agreement. "She's been in jail the last six months, thanks to you."

"Thanks to me?" Desirae scrunched her face, breaking the facade. "No, thanks to you. You left her."

"You arrested her."

"Greg technically arrested her."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course he did. Couldn't even let you get that win, huh? Fucking Agent Asshat. "

"Anyway. Whether Lucia did it herself or she had someone else do it for her, she seems to be the only common denominator in both deaths."

"Well..." I mulled over divulging my own little secret about the Ferrari being at Georgiy's villa that night. I decided to try a different angle. "How long would you say that you and Artemisia were, well, you know..." I scissor gestured with my fingers.

"What?"

"Like, just an estimate. I think we need to establish a timeline. I know Artemisia prefers to take her time, but sometimes it's like a very passionate fuck so things can happen quickly. Foreplay skipped, legs in the air, I mean, especially with you two not having been with each other in so long. How was it? How fast was it, I mean?"

"I knew you were going to be weird about this."

"I'm not—" I took a long deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Lucia told me she saw the Ferrari on her security cameras at the villa that night. I thought it was you, or well, both of you, but you're telling me it wasn't you so that leaves just Artie. But I also thought that you and me, that we were, like, I mean your passcode is the day we met, right? And then Artie and me, I'm still figuring that out, but now you and Artie? And you also think I killed Georgiy, but you still wanna fuck me so it's all just very confusing, Desirae."

She just stared at me blankly. "Where was Lucia that night?"

"I—" I thought back through my conversations with Lucia, but from what I remembered, she hadn't told me specifically where she was. "I don't know. She just said she saw the security footage from her app before the cameras went out."

"Find out. Better yet, get her phone."

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

"Kirby, you have stolen well over twenty million dollars worth of art in the last ten plus years, six of which you were behind bars. I think you can figure out a way to steal a phone."

My mind started flipping through the past jobs like the slides of an art history lecture. "Is that an accurate number?"

"You probably should have better negotiated your commission with Pino."

"Well, I wasn't exactly doing it for the money."

"No, I guess not." She turned back to the full-length mirror, twisting her back to look at her ass in the gown. Without the slip, her gold thong was visible against her dark skin beneath the sheer tulle. "I'll talk to Artemisia. I have a feeling she knows more than she's letting on. As usual."

"You didn't feel her leave?"

"She got up to pee at one point. But I was exhausted, I didn't think much of it." She shrugged. "It would probably be wise for all of us to stick together tonight."

"Oh, I uh, dunno if that's a good idea. I mean, just considering the occasion. And all. But you should definitely stick with Artie. All night. If that's what you want."

She chuckled softly as her hands trailed down over the sequins along her hips. "Are you hoping to find Lisette?"

"I uh, probably should," I stammered, watching her glimmer in the mirror. "To apologize, at least. And maybe explain myself."

"Do you mind?" She pointed at the clasp of the dress behind her back.

I stepped up behind her, breathing in the warm spiced jasmine of her perfume along her neck. My gaze fell down the slope of her shoulder. It was getting harder to resist her. I hurried to fasten the clasp, then tucked my hands around myself. But I couldn't step away.

Her hands slid up under the skirt of her dress, hips swaying against me in a figure eight as she slipped the thong off to the floor. "It was both, by the way."

My eyes were slow to leave her body as I looked up at her in the mirror. "Both?"

"Slow and fast," she whispered. "Very passionate, very reminiscent, and a bit angry at first." She turned her head to elongate her neck and ran her fingers over a couple bruises I hadn't noticed with her hair down earlier. "I forgot how flexible she is. The angles we were hitting with her legs and mine... And god, she did this thing with her lips and her tongue and her fingers all at the same time that made me squ—"

I sunk my fingertips into her waist, but as quickly as I had grabbed her, I let go. This was a bad idea. I spun around to head to the door. "We should get back to dinner before that Charlene chick comes looking."

Desirae's teeth grazed her bottom lip. "You're right. You've already pissed her off enough tonight."

"Fuck, just add her to the list," I mumbled, holding the door for her. "Between her and Atia and Lisette, maybe I do need Lucia's protection."

"Don't be stupid." Desirae stopped hard in the doorway. "Please, Kirby. Please don't be stupid."

A soft tap came from the balcony, distracting me again. I ignored Desirae's plea as I stared past her at the curtains blowing in the breeze. "Why don't you, uh, go ahead. I'll be down."

"Definitely not. Are you not listening to me?" She looped her arm with mine and dragged me out of our suite into the dark hall. The gentle murmur of voices echoed in harmony with the hum of sensual music from below. Pleasant smells wafted up the staircase from the dining room, but my stomach was in knots thinking about having to face everyone again.

"I really don't want to go back in there, Des." My feet were like cement walking down each step towards the hall. "I don't do well with groups of women. Women hate me. It's like prison all over again."

"Worse, high school," Desirae murmured. "Just lay low. Don't do anything else to draw attention to yourself tonight." She pulled me a little closer. "And women don't hate you, they love you. That's your problem. Do you have any other vengeful ex-girlfriends or jaded flings from the last six months who might be popping by?"

I sent her a side-glare as we approached the arched stone entryway. But I took a second to mentally go through my roster of lovers. "I hope not..."

I peeked around the corner of the doorway, going face by face at the long table. Large covered trays and plates of hors d'oeuvres now filled most of the middle. A woman with dark features in just tassels and a strappy leather harness was making her rounds, feeding the women at the table their appetizers and giving lap dances like an elite strip club. Artemisia had a vapid look on her face, but it didn't seem to be bothering the woman chirping away next to her. Charlene was standing next to Lucia who was seated at the head. My chair was still empty, along with the one next to me.

"Lisette's still not back."

"You never said what went wrong with her," Desirae whispered, holding me back. "Why did you run?"

"I didn't need to tell you, you were right," I mumbled. Lucia caught my gaze from across the room and subtly lifted her head in acknowledgement. "She's blonde."

Desirae's hand slipped off my elbow to find my palm. Her thumb rubbed softly against my skin. It was the first physical affection I'd had in a while that wasn't sexually charged. "I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine."

"I'm serious." She grabbed my chin this time, forcing me to look her in the eyes. "I can get you help, Kirby. We can go to the Agency and figure it all out. But you have to work with me. You have to trust me. And I want you in my eyesight at all times tonight. We don't split up."

"You still think it was me, don't you?" But it was a question that she didn't need to answer. I could tell. Her hypocrisy was almost comical at this point. "You make excuses for Artie when it's obvious she killed Lu's first husband, but now when it comes to me you want me locked up under the guise of you helping me. So trust you?" I pulled away from her. "No thank you."

As I stepped around the doorway, I felt every head turn, every eye on me. But just because I didn't like large groups of people, especially stuffy, rich women, it didn't mean I didn't know how to handle them. I gave them my best Naomi Campbell strut straight to Desirae's seat and pulled out the chair for her. As she sat down, I pushed her in with a kiss on the cheek. Her jaw clenched, muscles tensed beneath my lips, but I gave everyone my best smile as I turned back to round the table and find my own seat.

Lucia had been watching me closely. "Perfect timing, darling."

"I'm starving." I reached over her and grabbed the tray of whatever little hors-d'oeuvres she had on her side and dumped some onto my plate. Charlene looked down at me with horror, but Lucia just smiled. I popped a fried stuffed squid in my mouth. "What's the main?" I asked through chews.

As I went to lift the lid to the large tray in front of Lucia, Charlene caught my hand on the handle. "We are still waiting on Lisette."

I swallowed. "Yeah, don't think she's coming."

"Sophia was next on the list," Charlene said to Lucia, not letting up on my hand.

"Hmm..." Lucia took a hold of my wrist instead and laid my hand in my lap. "Is there someone here you wish to join you, Kirby?"

"Uhh..." I looked up and down the table of beautiful women, but it felt awkward as hell to just point someone out randomly. As the dancer fed an oyster to a woman several seats down, we made eye contact. "How about her?"

Charlene's face soured. "She's the entertainment. She's not—"

"And Kirby would like to be entertained," Lucia said sternly. "Soraya darling, would you care to join us for dinner?"

The dancer's strut was far better than mine. She came up to me and slid a leg over my lap, squeezing herself between me and the table.

"Oh, uh Lu meant you could sit. Like, in your own seat." I pulled the chair out next to me, careful not to touch her. "I appreciate you though."

Soraya looked up at Lucia and she nodded.

"She doesn't speak much English, Kirby. But she understands it enough." Lucia turned to Charlene. "Why don't you grab Soraya's robe for her?"

Even in the dim lighting, I could see Charlene's face burning red, but she slipped off through the corridor in the back of the room. Soraya climbed off me gracefully and slid into the chair next to me.

"What language do you speak?" I asked.

"Arabic."

I glanced across the table at Artemisia, but she just raised her wine glass to her lips. It didn't seem like she was going to help translate if I needed it. Desirae mirrored her with her own glass.

I reached for the bottle of wine in front of me and held it up to Soraya. "Are you able to drink?"

She sent me a sly smile and slid her wine glass towards me. I gave her a generous pour and one for myself as well. Atia continued to stare daggers at me from the far end of the table. But she wasn't the only one watching. It seemed like most everyone was focused our way. Maybe it was because I stole the dinner entertainment. But if they wanted a show, I could give them one.

"Kirby, how are you liking the heels?" Lucia asked.

I raised a leg into the air from my seat, boasting my own flexibility in front of Desirae. "Seem sturdy. Which is good and bad, I suppose."

"Why would that be bad?"

"Well, Desirae and I were just telling Artie how I stabbed her cousin in the eyeball with my broken stiletto when he was trying to kill me last summer. Pretty sure it pierced his skull. Couldn't have done that if they hadn't been flimsy knock-offs. Christian Louboutin could never."

The murmurs in the room nearly went silent against the soft music.

Lucia took a sip of wine, rubbing her lips together in amusement. "Who made the shoes, darling?"

"Not a clue." I lowered my leg and all the eyes on me went back to each other. The low hush of their voices picked up again. Beneath the table, Soraya slid her hand over my thigh. It was good to know she didn't scare easily. Maybe I actually would have some fun tonight. "I'm Kirby, by the way."

"Soraya."

"Do they normally feed you at these parties, Soraya?" I grabbed the plate of escargot and slid it in front of her along with a salad plate and the other hors d'oeuvres I had stolen from Lucia.

"I am happy just to be here, instead," she replied. "For the women. I like women."

"I like women too," I laughed.

"She was one of Mikhailov's girls," Lucia said quietly, almost cautiously, but I saw Desirae's eyes flash her way.

I didn't quite know what that meant, but I had a general idea. "So what's the main dish, Lu? Charlene wouldn't let me peek."

"Faisan rôti à la bourgeoise. Everything sourced straight from the estate here." Lucia looked down the back hall where Charlene had disappeared. "I suppose we don't need to wait any longer."

With the snap of her finger, about half a dozen waitstaff appeared out of nowhere and lined the table, removing the lids to the trays of roasted pheasants. Savory scents filled my nose and my stomach growled, actually hungry this time. As Lucia reached out to the tray in front of us, Charlene came up behind her, but her eyes bored into me. I turned more into Soraya to avoid her glare.

Out of the corner of my eye, Charlene reached down to grab the handle. "Lucia, would you like me to—"

But as Lucia lifted the lid, a mop of silver hair in a puddle of pinkish gray liquid filled the platter. The putrid sallow head of her husband stared back at her. Charlene's hand slapped over her mouth and she jumped back. The clammer of the lid against the platter drew everyone's attention away from the beautiful food in front of them, back to our end of the table. But it didn't seem like anyone else saw the horror beneath the lid. Even Soraya had been too focused on me and her glass of wine to have noticed. But as I looked across the table, Artemisia locked eyes with me.

Lucia pressed her lips into a calm smile. "Might want to bring this one back to the kitchen, Charlene."

But Charlene didn't move.

A member of the staff hurried to Lucia's side, but she waved her off with almost a strike.

Without really thinking, I grabbed the tray and stood up. It was heavier than I expected, making my stomach roll again.

"Charlene, show Kirby where the freezer is." Lucia gripped my arm and whispered into my shoulder. "Chaya is here. Find her."

Across the table, Desirae set her glass of wine down and started to push out of her seat. I shook my head subtly. Artemisia met my eyes again over the rim of her glass. She somehow seemed both disinterested and smug at the same time.

Either she had seen what was underneath the lid or she already knew.