Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“Technically, there are possibly two more,” I answered absentmindedly as I focused on the expertise on display.
Serg leaned against the sideboard as he crossed his arms. Nodding toward the paintings, he asked, “What’s the end game with painting five versions of an unknown version of the Mona Lisa?”
Turning away from the works, I took my seat and steepled my fingers. “My guess is someone is planning on running the Mona Lisa scam with actual Mona Lisas.”
Mac leaned forward. “Can you explain that to the rest of the class who aren’t art geeks?”
I laughed. “Where are Gregor and Samara when I need them? Talking art with you two Philistines is like quoting Shakespeare to apes.”
I rose and crossed to the samovar. Selecting a glass, I placed it in a Podstakannik and poured a generous portion of concentrated tea from the pot, before twisting the spigot and filling it with piping hot water.
Preferring my tea black with no sweetener, I turned back to my business partners. “The Mona Lisa scam is a classic art heist. You steal the painting. Then sell multiple forgeries on the black market. Since the painting is stolen, none of the buyers will ever authenticate or sell it. So they will each assume they are the only one with the original. And even if the painting is returned to the museum, as they often are used as collateral during criminal prosecutions, the buyer will still assume the museum has a forgery.”
Mac shook his head. “The art world is fucked up. What a racket. Hard to believe gambling is the regulated industry out of the two.”
I gestured toward the paintings. “Shit like this is why it’s so easy to launder money through art, but it’s a delicate balance. Everyone is in on the con, including the museum, as long as everyone plays by the rules. Abakar flooded the market with too many, too quickly, and that was before this bullshit.”
Serg shook his head. “So why the columns?”
Turning my chair around, I studied the paintings. “There are two other supposed Mona Lisas. The Isleworth one is held in an underground secure storage facility in Singapore. That one is darker, and the subject is younger. This is the Russian one.”
I knew the man who owned the original. I’d seen it a few years ago, the last time I was in St. Petersburg. It was all very dramatic and overblown, with him insisting I only view it at the old KGB headquarters. The space was a recreation of a hunting lodge in the center of the city with paradoxically butchered animals on the walls surrounding an elegant brass and crystal chandelier.
The entire time, the painting was flanked by two guards.
It was all nonsense.
Anyone who knew anything about black market art knew it wasn’t a true early version of the Mona Lisa. It had been painted two centuries later in France.
“I suspect the old bastard is worried the truth is going to come out about his painting. The best way to recover the obscene millions he paid for it would be to stage an art theft and then sell off several copies before anyone knows the truth. That they don’t, in fact, own a secret da Vinci Mona Lisa.”
Serg leaned his hands on my desk as he studied the paintings. “So, what’s our plan?”
I considered for a moment, then said, “I think we should—”
A commotion outside my office interrupted our conversation.
“Let go of me!” came an indignant shout.
Leaving my desk, I swung the door open and shouted, “What the hell is going on?”
Vivian struggled between two Four Monks security guards as they each held one of her arms.
Her writhing movements were meant to disengage her limbs from their grasp.
Instead, with her beautiful curves, it appeared more like a fucking erotic dance. Her hips rocked back and forth while she arched her back, trying to break free.
My cock lengthened as I imagined the same scenario, but with her wrists tied to my bedpost.
“Get your hands off her and go back to your posts,” I snarled as I stormed over to her.
The guards obeyed without a word, leaving silently.
She swept a thick wave of black hair away from her flushed face as her chest heaved with each labored breath.
I already imagined what those warm breaths would feel like against the tip of my cock, right before I shoved her mouth down its length as I stepped closer.
My right hand opened and closed at my side. I could still feel the impression of her flesh against my palm from when I held her in my arms.
She backed away.
I followed until her body slammed against a nearby wall.
With my forearm braced over her head, I leaned in. My gaze focused on the glossy red lipstick covering her full lips. “You’re supposed to be on a plane to Europe. That was the deal.”