Page 154 of Eternal Craving

“He’s a newlywed?”

“Are you really considering separating two young lovers?”

“Oh, God.”

“Try again.”

Marcus shrugged.

I discreetly pointed to a rotund gentleman in the corner. The man, easily in his fifties, snuggled next to a well-dressed, middle-aged woman.

“Him?” Marcus cringed.

My gaze fell on his escort.

“His wife?” Marcus said in surprise.

“Not his wife.”

A ruckus in the corner caught our attention. Two men were arguing, and all eyes were on them. Taking advantage of the distraction, the woman pick-pocketed the portly man and then headed out of the door with her prize.

I gestured to the barmaid. “I’d like to pay for our drinks.”

“You’re not eating then?” she asked, raising her voice over the din.

“Prior dinner engagement.” I winked at Marcus.

We left a handful of coins to pay for our untouched drinks and tracked the woman, waiting for the opportune moment when she disappeared down a dark alley or, as she did now, headed quickly into Manor Park.

Facing her, we strolled through the well-tended gardens, the epitome of two gentlemen taking the night air.

“Excuse me?” she said, noticing us.

We stopped and offered her a polite bow.

“You’re out late.” She pushed her breasts up and gave us a seductive smile, revealing a mouth full of rotten teeth. To our right, the bushes rustled and out jumped a twenty-year-old, pointing his pistol at us. I recognized her accomplice, one of the men who’d caused a ruckus, just minutes ago in the pub. His broken nose and cauliflower ears revealed his penchant for boxing.

I gave Marcus a sideways glance. “Sometimes, they make it easy for you.”

“Hand your money over – all of it,” the man snapped.

“Which one would you like?” I asked Marcus.

“You choose,” Marcus whispered.

I turned to him. “This is not about what I want.”

The woman scowled. “Shut up and give us your money.”

“Or I’ll shoot your ruddy head off.” The man jabbed his gun barrel closer to my chin.

I smiled at Marcus. “Looks like the decision’s been made for us.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

Belshazzar’s rose up out of the debris.

The stately manor’s exterior, with its classic architecture, was a modest property compared to what it had once been. As such, it would draw less attention, though I had a suspicion that with Sunaria’s expensive tastes, the interior would be decadent. Neither of us felt sentimental about living in a home erected upon what had once been Blackfriars. In fact, we looked upon it as a victory. The bohemian lifestyle of the city enabled us to blend in.