Page 89 of Brutal Truths

He gives a curt nod, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “Whenever I found myself in need of Alma’s services, she’d try to negotiate her fee to include the Botticelli. I distinctly recall telling her that no amount of money could tempt me to part with it. It was priceless. But that didn’t stop her. It only pushed her to find another way.”

He lets out a quiet laugh, and I don’t understand how any of this is funny.

“The sheer ingenuity of her plan—getting my ex-wife to sell the painting as payback for all the shit I’d put her through—was what stopped me from going after her. I respected it. My only request was that she let me buy it back someday. She agreed.”

Aiden clears his throat, the sound echoing in the empty room, his voice tinged with empathy. “But then her mind began failing her, leaving that up to Rico.”

Trent nods. “Sadly, yes. And I didn’t have the heart to steal it out from under her. I convinced myself I could talk Rico into selling it to me, even if it meant paying more than what it was worth. Thought it was a done deal… until I was outbid by a man I never saw coming.”

“Mr. Cygan.”

“Yes.”

With the final stitch done, I reach for the gauze. My focus is on covering Aiden’s arm, even though my mind races.

“Who is Mr. Cygan?” That name sounds familiar, like I’ve seen it or heard it before.

“I am.”

The deep, familiar voice has me nearly jumping out of my skin. It’s far too close.

A chill rips through me before I even turn.

“Rurik.” The sound of his name catches in my throat as fear seizes me.

The man who locked me in a room with two dead bodies stands in the doorway like he’s already won. His arrogance rolls off him, thick and suffocating, as his attention drifts to the men next to me.

When Aiden draws his gun and aims it at him, Rurik doesn’t even blink. If anything, he looks bored.

And that tells me just how unhinged this man really is.

“If you kill me, her friends die.” His hands lift in a lazy gesture, as if weighing our options. “Are you willing to take that risk? Or would you like to hear me out?”

His gaze settles on me, letting me see he’s not bluffing. “Decide quickly. Every second counts.”

Aiden’s phone vibrates. The jarring interruption sends a spike of panic through me. As soon as he has it out and unlocked, a video of my friend Trinity fills the screen and everything else falls away as I take her in.

Tears stream down her face, soaking into the filthy cloth used as a gag. A masked man stands next to her. He slowly drags the tip of his knife along her throat, with no sense of urgency.

I can’t breathe. The air sticks in my chest as I stare, frozen, unable to look away even when I know I should.

Before I can make sense of it, another video replaces hers.

It’s Lawrence. My friend, and Trinity’s new beau. His hands are bound above his head, his body hanging from what looks like a hook. He’s naked. Crimson trails ooze from the deep, crisscrossing cuts marring his torso. They look carved rather than inflicted. There’s nothing rushed about them, nothing careless, and the way his body sags warns me he’s been there for far too long and is barely hanging on.

“How could you?” The words tear out of me, sharp and breaking. “They’re innocent.”

“Lawrence isn’t innocent, is he, Mr. Doyle?” Rurik finally looks past me, his attention settling on the man at the end of the table. “Lawrence has a gambling problem. Used the wrong bookie. Needed a way out and agreed to forge a few tests, not understanding fully what that meant.”

He tsks under his breath, shaking his head like this is a minor inconvenience instead of a life hanging in the balance.

“One has nothing to do with the other.” Mr. Doyle’s voice goes hard, his glare cutting into Rurik. “What is it you want?”

“The same thing I’ve always wanted.” His lips curl into a sickening grin, a darkness hidden behind it. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”

“Should I?” Trent narrows his eyes and leans back, unimpressed. “All I see is a piece of shite that needs to be taken down a few notches. A dead man walking.” His gaze hardens. “You’re messing with the wrong man, and you’ll soon learn that the hard way.”

The words hang in the air, thick enough to choke on, and for the first time since he walked in, Rurik reacts. It’s subtle, but I catch it.