Tension was in the air in the VIP lounge. Vincent Delacroix led Ethan and Lily into the auction hall, where the massive mahogany doors muffled the faint murmur of discussion. A sleek glass table was surrounded by leather chairs in a softly lighted room. Shadows moved around the walls as a marble fireplace's fire crackled.
As a subtle reminder that trust was something he could not afford, Ethan's palm touched the concealed pistol under his jacket. Lily's body stayed straight beside him, her face blank, but Ethan knew better. The same edge he sensed behind her composed façade was her preparedness to attack if things went wrong.
Vincent sat down and motioned for them to follow suit. He folded his hands on his lap and remarked, "So," with ease. "Ethan Calloway, the notorious one. And Lily must be here. For too long, his gaze remained fixed on her. "What a power couple."
Ignoring the remark, Ethan got right to the issue. "You understand why we're here."