His defeated look morphed into something else, an expression that was subtly deranged. “Don’t fight me on this.”
“You know fight is my middle name.”
His eyes contained the same razor’s edge. “You can continue to submit the paperwork to the courts, but it’ll be rejected every time. And if you try to have a relationship with someone else, I’ll make sure they know you’re married—to me.” The threat was never stated, but it was unmistakable. He was connected to a lot of people in his line of work, because whoever could afford such invaluable pieces of art and had no objection to owning a piece of history that belonged to the people clearly didn’t have a conscience. And they were capable of far worse than purchasing stolen artwork.
“Then I guess I’ll pick my next man wisely.”
Chapter 3
Bast
