I eyed the shelves, wondering if I might discreetly swipe a silver picture frame or two. Just because I’d been brought here more or less against my will didn’t mean I had to leave empty-handed. Like Mo had said, I was always looking to put more cash in my pockets, along with silverware, jewelry, and other small valuables.
The female pixie fluttered over to the white marble fireplace that took up most of another wall. She placed her tray on a table next to another tray that held a pot of tea, spoons, and several cups. But I focused my attention on the figure sitting beside the table—a familiar face with sly black eyes.
“Lila!” Mo called out, jumping up off a white velvet settee. “Finally! There you are!”
He looked the same as ever in his white pants, flip-flops, and Hawaiian shirt, this one a bloody red printed with smiling hula girls.
I broke free of my entourage, grabbed his arm, and yanked him all the way to the back of the library, next to the balcony doors. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure we were out of earshot, then turned back to face him.
“What is this?” I hissed. “Who are these men, why were they waiting for me outside of school, and why did they bring me to the Sinclair Family mansion?”
A smile lit up Mo’s face. “This, kid, is an opportunity. The opportunity of a lifetime.” His smile disappeared. “And, frankly, the best I could do for you, all things considered.”
“What do you mean?”
“It means I had a hard time convincing the Sinclairs you were not involved in the attack at the Razzle Dazzle. That you were just an innocent bystander who managed to save the day.”
My eyes narrowed. “What happened after you shoved me out of the shop? What have you been doing the past few days? What in the blue blazes is going on?”
Mo waved his hand, brushing off my concerns. “Oh, you’ll find all that out soon enough. Just promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“That you’ll let me do all the negotiating.” He paused.
“Unless you see a chance to get a better deal. Then feel free to speak up.”
“Deal? What sort of deal—”
Before I could ask him again what was going on, the double doors opened and Devon stepped into view.
Dark brown hair, green eyes, chiseled features, muscled body. He looked the same as before, with one notable exception—he’d traded in the casual T-shirt and pants he was wearing at the Razzle Dazzle for a black shirt layered under a black suit. My heart sank. Because only high-ranking Family members wore suits like that, and only then on special occasions.
Like, say, an execution.
Devon nodded at me, then went over to stand with Grant and Felix, who were munching on the cucumber sandwiches the pixie had brought in.
Reginald proceeded to the doors and held one open for a woman to enter the library. Like Devon, she was wearing a simple, but expensive, black suit, although she’d added three-inch stilettos to her ensemble. A silver cuff glimmered on her right wrist—one that featured the Sinclair Family crest, that stupid hand holding a sword. Her hair was a beautiful auburn, while her eyes were a cold, clear green. And just like with Deah Draconi, I recognized her.
Claudia Sinclair, the head of the Sinclair Family, the most powerful woman in town.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Claudia walked over and stood next to Devon. Side by side, the resemblance between them was obvious, and I could have kicked myself for not realizing exactly who he was sooner. Like, say, back at the Razzle Dazzle.
If I had known, I might have let that guy strangle Devon to death after all.
I whirled around to Mo. “That guy is Devon Sinclair? Claudia Sinclair’s son?”
I hissed out the words through clenched teeth, but my voice wasn’t as quiet as it should have been, and the others heard me. Felix, in particular, seemed amused, and he elbowed Devon in the side as though he found my ignorance entertaining. If this kept up, I was the one who’d be worse than the tourist rubes. But right now, I was too angry to care.
Mo nodded.
This time, I made sure to lower my voice. “Why was Devon Sinclair in your shop?” A sneaking suspicion occurred to me. “You weren’t going to sell him that ruby necklace, were you?”
He gave me an offended look. “Of course not. I already had another buyer lined up for that.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, so Mo sighed and finally answered my question.
“Devon was out in the Midway a while back, looking for a present for his mom,” he said. “I had rented a booth for the day to showcase some of my finer items, and I . . . might have suggested that I had some even better stuff at the Razzle Dazzle. Something that might really wow the head of the Sinclair Family.”
That matched up with what Devon had told me, but it wasn’t a good thing. Not at all. My head started pounding. This was bad, so very, very bad.
“And the other guy? Felix?”
“Felix Morales. Son of Angelo Morales, the Family chemist, and Devon’s best friend.”
“And the bodyguard?”
“Her name was Ashley Vargas. Another Family member, albeit it a relatively new one.”
I couldn’t keep from letting out a low groan. This just kept getting better and better. Somehow, despite my best intentions not to get involved with any of the Families—ever—here I was standing in one of their mansions, all eyes fixed on me.
Grant, Reginald, and Felix had dragged me here before Claudia Sinclair to . . . to . . . do what exactly? Question me about the attack? Determine whether or not I was involved ? Torture me until I told them something they wanted to hear?
Either way, this was the absolute last place I ever wanted to be. For a wild, crazy moment, sheer, sweaty panic filled me, and I wondered if they all might know who I really was. Mo would never tell them, but Claudia Sinclair might guess on her own. And if she did, then she’d never let me leave here—