Rebellious Surrender by Zoe Blake

Chapter 4

Two weeks later

Mirage walked brisklyinto the bright exhibit room. She only spared a quick glance for the empty glass cases with their small black velvet pedestals, primed and ready for the precious diamonds, sapphires and pearls that would soon grace them. Heading for the security guard standing in the corner, she said, “Joe, Mr. Winchester wants to see you. I think he’s going to ask about that schedule change you requested.”

“Thanks, Josie. I’ll tell Martha to watch both rooms and then head on up.”

Mirage waited till the security guard had left the space before getting out her phone and quickly snapping several perimeter photos of the room, careful to make sure she recorded the placement of any last-minute additional cameras. It had been a while since she had swiped something from the Tate and this particular exhibit would have more than the usual security.

Museums were understandably very squirrelly about getting background checks on, and fingerprinting, those they hired to be security guards but less so when they hired the secretarial assistant to the head of security. Mirage had lucked out, really. Usually in preparing for heists she had to take a job as a janitor, patiently spending her days dusting display cases and emptying wastepaper baskets as she cased the place. It would normally take weeks for custodial staff to gain access to a special exhibit. As the secretary to the head of security, she was given free rein around the entire museum. Mirage was certain The Syndicate had arranged for the previous secretary to suddenly want to seek new employment, but she never questioned their methods. Too many questions always led to trouble in her opinion.

These final photos were all she needed to complete her reconnaissance. She knew the security schedule, the floor plan of the exhibit, the placement of the cameras and lasers and her exit route. The new exhibit of the Duchess of Devonshire’s jewels opened tomorrow. They would be placing the jewels in their display cases tonight after the museum closed to the public. She would need to strike tonight after the staff had gone. All that was left to do was grab the two GoPro cameras she had staged a few days ago by the security keypads and collect the data on the proper passwords and she would be all set.

It was not ideal. She would have preferred to wait. To watch the exhibit and its patterns a little longer, but there was no time. She needed to keep moving from job to job, country to country if she wanted to stay out of the reach of him. The key was to focus, she reminded herself. And not think of Paine, said the evil voice in her head. She hadn’t had a moment of peace since that night in D.C. Every night in bed, she replayed in her head what had happened. How she’d let it get so out of hand. How her body had responded. She couldn’t understand the man’s influence over her. She barely knew him for fuck’s sake. Yet with a single touch he had managed to derail months of careful planning. Made her forget all about Dev, about revenge, about killing him. Mirage gritted her teeth at the thought of it.

Her opportunity was lost.

Paine now knew it was she who had set him up.

For two weeks, she had barely slept. Jumping at every noise, checking under her bed and in closets for the monster she knew was lurking there. She knew he would come for her.

She’d had her chance at revenge.

It was now his turn.

For some reason, she knew he wouldn’t tell The Syndicate what she had done. Her life wouldn’t be worth shit if he did. No, this was personal and they both knew it. He was the type of man who would handle his own problems.

Reaching into her collar, her fingers skimmed down the metal chain around her neck till they touched the smooth, warm surface of the pink diamond. It was the height of insanity to keep it. She should have tried to fence it, or better yet, thrown it into the Potomac River the moment she’d gotten away from Paine. It was the only thing that could truly connect her to Paine’s thwarted theft of it. A tangible reminder of her deception and guilt in the matter.

But there was a much greater guilt weighing on her, thought Mirage. The kill contract she had just taken out on Paine Darwin.

This was no longer about revenge but survival.

She had no choice in the matter. Now that he knew it was her, he would be coming after her for certain.

What a fucking mess she had created! If she didn’t put the contract out on Paine, he would find her and kill her. By putting the contract out on him, she was basically waving a red flag in front of The Syndicate. It would only be a matter of time before they figured out she was the one who’d stolen the Raj Pink diamond, who’d fabricated the Vermeer story, and who’d taken one of their best men out of the field with her lies and deception. What had made her think she could just ruin Paine’s life, kill him, and walk away with no consequences? In avenging Dev’s death, she may have just ruined her own.

You make your choices. Life will choose your consequences, as her grandfather used to always remind her.

Control. Control over your actions and reactions was the only way to avoid the type of consequences that usually befell her type—criminals. She had forgotten those lessons. She’d let her emotions get the better of her and allowed her reactions to control her rather than the other way around.

What a fucking mess, she thought again for the thousandth time.

Well, she needed this final score and then she would be in the wind. Mirage would truly become an illusion, a memory. She would cease to exist. Disappear.

It was the only way. Still, she couldn’t shake the guilt.

The irony that she was suddenly feeling guilty about putting out a contract to kill a man she herself had tried to kill just a few weeks ago was not lost on her. Things had suddenly shifted. Changed. Her revenge schemes were fine until she was standing over his bed with a gun. Suddenly it was no longer a game, a fantasy she had worked out in her head. It was real with tangible consequences. It was easier when she just burned him from afar. She could separate herself, keep telling herself it was justified, deserved. But facing off with the man himself, seeing the anger in his eyes, and sensing his hurt and confusion about her betrayal… Mirage shivered, suddenly feeling chilled.

Yes, it was the height of insanity to keep the pink diamond.

Mirage tucked the stone and chain safely back inside her shirt and turned to leave the exhibit.

She never saw the tall man angrily observing her every move.

* * *

Keeping to the shadows,she walked along Castle Yard Road, preferring never to drive up to a target. Making her way to the back of the building, careful to avoid the reach of the perimeter cameras, Mirage knelt before a large silver panel marked ‘Danger, High Voltage Electrical Equipment.’ Using her pneumatic flush cutters, she severed the hinges to the panel. She then silently removed the screws. Placing the panel to the side, she surveyed the aluminum grating covering a four-foot duct. It was only secured with a simple padlock. Reaching blindly behind her, Mirage felt for the cutters she had laid aside.

A large warm hand clasped her wrist.

Too well-trained to call out, she turned and glared at Paine. Her clenched teeth stifled a hiss of anger.

Laying a finger to his lips, he then pointed to the left.

Mirage watched as a single black Mercedes-Benz S550 slowly wound its way down a small alley toward the Tate. No doubt it was the armored version with bulletproof glass, a steel cage protecting the fuel tank and battery, and flat-proof tires.

Germans, mouthed Paine.

Mirage nodded.

There was a German crew who often tried to hit the same targets. They were extremely well-funded by an organization which competed with The Syndicate for dominance and didn’t mind a little blood splatter on the artwork.

Dammit, thought Mirage. She’d known in her gut tonight was the wrong night. Her impatience had almost gotten her busted or killed.

Paine dragged her by the arm, keeping to the shadows. They moved at a swift pace till they reached Shakespeare’s Globe. He had a car parked on the other side.

It was then Mirage found her voice. Pulling on her arm, she dug in her feet. “I’m not getting in a car with you!”

“You have no choice in the matter.”

“The hell I don’t. If you don’t let go, I’ll scream.”

Paine leaned in close. She could smell the spicy scent of his aftershave. “Go ahead and scream, kitten,” he boldly dared.

Mirage’s lips thinned. He knew she would never alert the police to their whereabouts. Too many questions would be asked. Too many questions led to trouble.

More afraid than she had ever been in her life, she begged, “Just let me go. I’ll disappear. You will never lay eyes on me again.”

Paine smirked. “That’s what I’m afraid of. Now are you going to get into the car like a good girl or do I have to go to Plan B?”

Mirage stubbornly crossed her arms and glared at him.

Two seconds later, she was pounding on the inside roof of his trunk cursing him to hell and back.

* * *

She was stuckin that trunk for at least twenty minutes. Judging by the smooth ride, he must have taken her to the outer limits of London where it was less populated. The moment the car stopped, Mirage prepared herself. When the trunk lid swung open, she kicked out with both feet before agilely jumping out of the trunk. She had barely started to run before there was a hand grabbing the back of her shirt.

“I swear to God, I’m going to put a leash on you if you don’t stop running away from me, babygirl.”

Her sarcastic retort was cut off as he put a shoulder to her stomach and lifted her into the air, carrying her into a remote house on the outskirts of London. She only caught glimpses of a red brick façade outside and a shabby living room with worn furniture inside before he carried her into a small, well-lit bedroom and deposited her onto the bed. Before she had even bounced up, she was on her feet, squaring off with him.

Mirage realized with a start it was the first time she had seen him in full light. He seemed even taller and more imposing. Like her, he was dressed in unrelenting black. The strong angles of his jaw, brow and cheekbones gave him an almost sinister quality. His eyes were so light they were almost a crystalline blue. Stubble dusted his cheeks as if he hadn’t shaved in weeks. His wavy brown hair looked ruffled and unkempt. In short, he looked like a man who had been on the hunt.

Mirage turned her head right then left, looking for an escape route.

“There is none,” he intoned as she watched him uncoil a length of black nylon rope that had been resting on a nearby chair.

“It’s time you and I had a little chat. You’re going to tell me why you tried to kill me and why you burned me.”

“Go to hell,” she spat.

“Oh, I’ve had my ticket punched for that trip for a long time,” Paine said with a seductive wink.

“You know why,” she said through gritted teeth. “Don’t insult me by pretending you don’t.”

“I assure you I don’t. Although I must confess, whatever it is…I can’t honestly say I regret it. Not if it inspired such beautiful anger in those dark eyes of yours. There really is nothing quite as stimulating as a hate fuck.”

With a shrill scream of indignation, Mirage launched herself at him, claws bared. Paine took a step back before quickly looping a simple slip knot over both her wrists and pulling tight. Still she tried to fight him. Dragging her by the rope, he pushed her onto the bed and secured the rope to the headboard, her arms stretched tight over her head.

“I have some questions for you, baby. And you have a rather annoying habit of disappearing on me or trying to kill me. I think this little arrangement will help prevent that, don’t you?”

“You fucking bastard. Let me go! I’ll kill you for this!” she screeched as she swung her legs out trying to kick him.

“You already tried and missed, and I’m sure you remember your punishment for it.”

Mirage’s cheeks heated at the illicit memory. How he’d fucked her from behind, both of them lost in a primal dance of lust and loathing.

Still she would get a little of her own back.

A smug light came into her eyes. “Yes, but the man I hired won’t.”

She shouldn’t have told him. Should have kept her mouth shut, but something about this man made her want to push his buttons . To court danger. It was an adrenaline rush watching the anger spark in his eyes, his jaw tighten, his fists clench. She loved knowing she had done that, had broken the famous icy reserve of Paine Darwin. All her careful control snapped when she was in his presence. She became reckless, foolish, glorying in the dangerous thrill of poking a ferocious beast with a stick.

Paine grabbed her around the throat. His large fist squeezed. “You put a fucking hit out on me?”

Mirage closed her eyes and focused on breathing through her nose.

“Answer me, dammit. Who? When?”

She opened her eyes and stared defiantly back at him.

The bed dipped as he rested one knee on it. Keeping his grip on her throat, he leaned down to whisper, “I think it is past time you learned why they call me Paine.”

Her eyes widened when she saw the knife in his hand.

Mirage stilled.

You make your choices. Life will choose your consequences.

She could feel the tip of the knife move down the exposed column of her throat. There was a gentle tug on the neckline of her T-shirt then the sound of fabric rending. He had cut her T-shirt open. Worse, she was completely bare underneath. A bra hindered movement when she was working.

Paine finished slicing off her shirt then lifted the chain which held the pink diamond with his blade. Cocking one knowing eyebrow at her, he flicked his wrist and broke the chain, catching the falling diamond in his fist and pocketing it.

Mirage held her breath when she then felt the tip of the knife circle one erect nipple.

“You have the most gorgeous breasts. Did you know that, Mira? In both of our brief encounters, I didn’t have the time to truly appreciate your curves. I plan to rectify that now.” His voice was dark and low.

He placed the edge of the knife between her breasts and moved it downward.

Dismayed, Mirage looked down. She could see a faint pink line against her pale skin but no blood. Yet.

Using two fingers, he tugged on the waistband of her yoga pants. Pulling them away from her stomach, he gave her another wink as if this was all just some game before slicing into the thin fabric with his knife. Down one leg, then the other. She was naked before his prying eyes.

“I hate you,” she hissed as tears filled her eyes.

He ran a knuckle down her cheek. “That is a shame, kitten, because you fascinate me.” He leaned in close to breathe against her open mouth, “And I don’t think you hate me nearly as much as you say you do.”

Mirage turned her head away, trying again to pull on the binds securing her wrists. She could hear him take off his shirt and kick off his shoes. She stubbornly kept her head averted.

She only turned her gaze back to him when she heard him unbuckle his belt.

Her inner thighs clenched tight. Her whole body trembled.

Jesus Christ, what the fuck was wrong with her? This was depraved, wrong.

Had her life become so fucked up? So twisted? So on the dark side that something like this turned her on? Had she slipped so far from normal that only the adrenaline rush that came from pain and the fear of death could make her pulse race? The truth burned like a brand. It had been true in Istanbul. It had been true when she’d broken into his home and it was true now. To her utter damnation, he fascinated her too. She kept her life and emotions ruthlessly in control. Was patient, careful, organized.

When she was with him, nothing was in her control. He dominated everything. Her thoughts. Her body. Everything. She felt as if she were constantly spinning, the world tilting and whirling by. Like a true thief, he didn’t ask…he just took what he wanted. There was something undeniably arousing about a man like that.

Dev had made her feel important. Always asking her opinion on heists, encouraging her to challenge herself and take jobs she thought were too difficult. Offering to fence the jewels so she could focus on the next job.

The hard truth was Paine made her feel like…like…all that was decent, kind and secure, all that made people civilized, all that kept the baser impulses in check, had been stripped away. Leaving only what was raw, primal and true. It was an experience she had begun to crave. A high like no other. The extremes of all conflicting emotions colliding in a starburst of light. Pain, pleasure, hate…love. It explained why she only needed to be around him to react to his powerful presence. They did not have to go through the polite niceties of casual dates of dinners and movies, or long conversations on the phone getting to know one another.

This was more elemental. Base. Animalistic.

Still she fought.

Mirage didn’t like this feeling of spinning out of control. Didn’t want his dominance. He and it frightened her.

She watched in horrified fascination as he looped his thick leather belt in half and slapped it against one large palm.

“Time for your punishment, babygirl.”