The Rossi Estate - Positano, Italy
It was still light out when Victor Sullivan and Sara Briggs arrived at the massive Estate. While the exact owners of the manor were unknown, it had been dubbed the Rossi Estate over fifty years ago, as it had been the surname of the previous owners. And anyone who ever attended events at the place had some form of connection to the criminal underworld. While Sara had never been personally, Sullivan and her brother, Nathan, had attended previously, while the latter was the one who never seemed to have an official invite. Not that it would stop the middle Morgan child.
While Sara had been on Sullivan's arm, the pair had been stopped at the front doorways, their entire persons patted down and searched for any phones or weapons. Privacy was significant at the Rossi Estate. Sara had been informed years ago by Elena that a journalist friend of hers tried to sneak in with a camera to record one of the black market auctions. She had never heard from him again. Sara wondered if the man had been buried somewhere in the estate's many gardens.
"Not too cold?" Sullivan had asked her as a guard looked through the woman's purse, looking for anything that could be concealed in the lining while also checking out its contents were what they appeared to be. Sara shook her head. In truth, she was a bit cold, but once they made it into the event, they would be fine. "Grazie." Sullivan thanked the guard in near-perfect Italian as the large man had let them pass, handing Sara back her purse. They went inside, past the foyer and up the stairs into the grand ballroom, where a stage had been set up for the festivities. Somewhere along the way, Sullivan had nabbed a paper with the list of the items being auctioned off and passed it to Sara for her to look over, her eyes focused on finding the cross of Saint Dismas. She found it on Page 2, lot number 278. She didn't recognise the name of the lot holder, the Trott Estate.
She showed the page to Sullivan. Biddings started in less than an hour, but with them planning to run for five hours, it meant that the cross wouldn't be brought out till closer to 10.00 pm. Sullivan nodded as she whispered everything into his ear. They had to blend in for a while as the attendees got settled, not wishing to draw any unwanted attention. Sullivan had guided her to the bar, ordering a scotch on the rocks for himself and a flute of champagne for Sara. They walked around, studying the guards that patrolled the room and the coming and going of the servants.
As the auction began, Sullivan took Sara off to a private study that adjoined a balcony overlooking the ballroom floor. If anyone were to look at them, they would possibly assume that they were merely lovers sneaking away for some alone time. Once inside, Sara left her flute on a table and began to open up the curtains that had been closed, daylight from the outside pouring in, and she opened a window for her brothers to climb through.
"Any idea where your brothers might be watching from?" Sullivan asked as he began flicking a lamp on and off—a form of Morse code.
Sara moved away from the windows. "My guess is the cliffs overlooking the front entrance gives them a good advantage spot to see people coming in and look for a possible opening." She paused as she watched Sullivan continue to flicker the lamp. "I'll go watch the doors." She left him alone in the room, returning to the balcony overlooking the ballroom with her flute. Her eyes wandered over the crowd below and watched the auctions that were taking place. She frowned. Something was wrong. She pulled the lot list from her purse where she had stored it. They were different. Sara swore, rushing back into the study, where Sullivan was currently lounging around on a plush sofa, enjoying a cigar, his scotch glass empty on the side table next to him. He eyed her. "We got a problem."
"What's wrong?" His brows furrowed as he waited on her to speak.
"They've moved around the lot numbers."
"Damn," Sullivan leaned forward, taking a long drag from his cigar. "Have they brought out the cross yet?" She shook her head. "Good, that means we got some time, as long as your brothers show up soon." He looked at the open window. "Go continue to watch." She nodded, obeying his orders.
She left him again, returning to observe the auction, waiting for the chance they would bring out the cross. She needed to be ready to report it to Sullivan. This could cause a massive change in the plans that her brothers had put together. The Drake brothers had planned to break into the secured storage room and take the cross before it could ever hit the ballroom floor to be auctioned off, but now, things weren't looking good. Sara casually sipped her champagne, swearing under her breath when she spotted the cross being brought out under a heavy guard detail. When she finally heard the doors to the study open, Sara turned to face the three finely dressed men, a frown on her face.
"They just brought it out." She seethed, gesturing down to the stage with her head. Nathan and Sullivan came to stand behind her while Samuel kept to the doorway, his green eye's wide as he took in his sister's dress, mouth opening like a fish. "Take a look." Sara sighed as Nathan took in the sight of the cross, a groan of displeasure leaving his lips.
"That's Avery's cross." He muttered, looking at his sister.
"They changed the lot order," Sullivan stated, tracking a drag from his cigar. "Take a whole pile of cash to make that happen." Sara hummed in agreement. Whoever had orchestrated it was clearly their competition to find the treasure, but more so, the people that did this had the means to buy it outright. Sara had her suspicions about who it could be but kept them to herself for now. The boys were concerned enough for now.
"All right, how long till they start the bidding?" Nathan enquired, still looking at his sister.
She shrugged. "Ten, fifteen, maybe twenty minutes? It depends on how long the other lot items are bid on for."
"Well, there's gotta be some way we can grab it." Nathan leaned over the railing, thinking deeply as he stared at the artifact they had come to steal.
Sullivan chuckled. "There is just the small matter of a few hundred eyewitnesses down there." He gestured over the crowd with his dominant hand.
"Okay, okay…but we just need a diversion." Nathan followed the man's gaze of the crowd, trying to think of something.
"Am I the only one here to notice?" Samuel finally spoke out, his voice somewhat raised. The trio moved around to start at him, expecting him to give some input on the new plan. Samuel was basically seething as he removed his tux jacket and forced it up in front of his sister's chest. "What are you thinking dressing like that?" Sullivan snicked as his cigar returned to his lips, and Nathan sighed, pinching the space between his eyes. They really didn't have time for Samuel's antics.
Sara smacked the light jacket away, giving her eldest brother a slight shove in the process. "Really, Sam?" She hissed, glaring at him.
"Sam…" Nathan sighed, moving in between the siblings. "We don't have time for this."
"Nate, are sister's….breasts...there out for everyone to see." Samuel was seething, gesturing over his brother's shoulder at the woman. Nathan sighed again when Sullivan silently commented about the woman's bosom, only setting Samuel off further. Sara pushed past Nathan, reaching to smack Samuel other the side of the head as a way to silence him, smiling when he hissed out in pain from her assault.
"Complain about my breasts later." She turned around to face Nathan. "You got the map?" Nathan spared a glance at Samuel before reaching inside his suit jacket and pulling out the blueprints for the Rossi Estate, placing it on a small table near them. They all gathered around the table, Samuel begrudgingly as he threw his jacket back on. "Anyone got any ideas?"
"If the guards see us making a move for that cross–" Sullivan started, glancing down at the map, only to be cut off by Samuel, who was still eying off his sister in annoyance.
"They won't see us." He pointed to a spot on the map—the power room. "Jesus, you guys act like you've never spent time in prison." He looked to Nathan and Sullivan. "If you want something dirty done, then you wait…"
"For lights out." All three men said in unison.
"I question all of your life choices…" Sara muttered, her face showing how offended she was at each male's criminal past.
"So we just have to climb up there and kill the lights." Nathan pointed at the electrical room.
Samuel smiled at his brother, liking where the plan was going. "Grab the cross in the dark."
"There will be an emergency generator," Sullivan added, looking at the map. Those generators weren't on the blueprints, so it would be impossible to find them and take them out to provide extra cover.
"That'll give us a few seconds of darkness to work with." Nathan pondered the idea.
Sara interjected, gaining the attention of the three men ignoring Samuel's frown at her. "A few seconds doesn't give us enough time. Someone needs to be right next to the stage, but with all that security down there, fat chance of it happening–"
"Scusate, signori…" A young redheaded waitress interrupted Sara, offering up a tray of finger foods. "Antipasti?" While Nathan and Sullivan were fine not to take anything, Samuel allowed his eyes to wander over the young woman.
"Hi," He greeted sultrily, taking something with cucumber off the serving tray. "How are you?" Samuel continued to stare after her as she left, his head tilting to get a better look at her ass.
Sara smacked him upside the head again. "Fucking really, Sam? And you were just giving me shit for having my cleavage on display." Nathan joined in on the lecture, smacking Samuel's arm and telling him to focus.
"A waiter wouldn't get noticed," Samuel commented, still staring. He turned back around to the table, shoving the whole piece of food into his mouth and licking his fingers clean. Sara groaned, rolling her eyes at the man's actions.
"That could work." Sullivan nodded.
"It will work." Nathan smiled, tapping the map. "I'll get to the breaker room. Kill the power."
"You mean I'm the waiter?" Samuel enquired, looking at his brother.
"You look scrappy enough," Sara said, the statement catching her brother off guard. Sullivan chuckled, enjoying the look on the eldest's face. The old man knew he would get some free entertainment from the siblings tonight. "Sully can head down to the floor while I'll keep an eye topside."
Nathan nodded, liking his sister's idea. "We still got this. Ready?" Everyone nodded. Sullivan led the boys towards the cellar doors while Sara stayed above. Samuel had given her one last frown as he mouthed and gestured for her to cover up. She flipped him off, with him returning the offensive gesture with both his hands. Nathan had to smack his arm again to try and control the man into behaving.
Sara rolled her eyes, watching them go. Turning back to watch over the balcony, she watched them pass through the foyer doors into the ballroom floor and move below her towards the cellar doors. From where she stood, she couldn't see them and, therefore, just had to pray that they would be alright and not get caught. After a moment, she witnessed Samuel and Nathan exiting from below her, following a waiter onto the main floor of the ballroom. Sara quirked a brow at them but smiled when she noticed Nathan lift something from the waiter's back pocket. She guessed that the cellar door was locked, and they needed a key of some sort. She chuckled, watching her brother head back under the balcony. She heard the earpiece that was hidden under her hair come alive, knowing that the men had put theirs in. The four of them were now connected as they worked.
Sara let her eyes travel over the crowd, looking for any familiar faces, stopping when her green orbs landed on a man on the opposite balcony her. Marco Gallo. An antiquities dealer out of Rome. An old contact that she knew wouldn't be any trouble. He was smiling at her, greeting her with a raise of his champagne flute. She returned the gesture but cast her gaze downwards when she heard voices coming through her earpiece. She watched a thin, dark-haired woman speak with Sullivan, listening intensely to their conversation.
"Hands in the air. Hello, Victor."
"Hello, Nadine. Pleasure to see you again."
"Only this time, I've got the drop on you."
"Well, I guess I should be glad that's not a real gun. Hardley recognise you otta your fatigues."
"Yeah…you know how it is. Every once in a while, a job requires us to get all 'dolled up'. Looking sharp, by the way."
"Not too bad yourself."
"Feel so out of place here. Can't tell you what a relief it is to run into another English speaker…even if you are American."
"You'll have to blame my parents for that one."
"I was on my way to the bar. Can I get you something?"
"Yeah, scotch. On the rocks."
"Be right back."
Sara watched the woman go, curious about who she was and how Sullivan knew her. Back there was another question in the back of her mind. The British woman, Nadine, had mentioned being there on the job. She heard her earpiece start up again as Sullivan tried reaching out to her brothers.
"Nate. You catch all that?"
"Yes, I did. Sound like a lady's trying to buy you a drink."
"Yeah. Nadine Ross is buying me a drink."
"Nadine Ross?"
Sara sighed, finally speaking up as she remembered the name. "She operates Shoreline, a mercenary group. If she's there on a job, this isn't good. It could be linked to the person who messed with the lot numbers."
"It's a thought," Nathan spoke into her ear. "Listen, we're all set. You two…stay out of trouble, okay?"
"I'm not Sam." Sara joked. She smiled when she heard Sullivan's snort and Samuel's swearing at her. The boy was lucky she wasn't there to smack him again. She occasionally listened to the small whispered conversations between Nathan and Samuel as they made their way through the cellar, smiling whenever they partook in sibling bickering. But her focus remained on Sullivan, watching as Nadine returned and continued to converse with the older male. That horrible feeling was in her gut again.
"Sully, on my way down to you. I got a bad feeling." Sara mumbled, moving away from the balcony railing and going down to the ballroom, stopping to exchange her empty champagne flute with a fresh one from a waiter. She could hear Sullivan and Nadine laughing as they exchanged comical war stories, but she frowned when Nadine asked about her brother, Nathan Drake. Sullivan tried to steer the question away from Nathan, advising Nadine that the younger man was out, which she confused for dead. Sullivan had to laugh, informing her that that wasn't the case, only that Nathan had retired. That he had settled down and gotten married. Sullivan and Nadine were in Sara's sights when she noticed a man walking up between her friend, his charming voice pooling into her ears with a deep chuckle.
"Well, then he might as well be dead, right? Victor Sullivan! How the hell are you?"
The voice almost had Sara stopping in her tracks as the stranger greeted Sullivan. Sara watched them through a crowd of people. The good thing about being a beautiful woman in a beautiful dress was that while people noticed you, you were also somewhat invisible, about to get away with things as your looks would just blind many. Sara had learned it as a teenager when she would attend parties with her parent's wealthy friends. Sara watched Sullivan shake the man's hands like they were old friends.
"Rafe."
Sara sucked in a breath, her eyes moving to where she spotted Samuel hanging out by the stage in a waiter's uniform. He was frowning as his eyes landed on the man with Sullivan. Sara's eyes moved back. Nathan had shared very few stories with her about his old business partner, Rafe Adler, having described the man as an obsessive rich boy. Sara had met many like him in her youth. Spoiled brats who were used it getting what they wanted. It was sad that her baby brother, Aaron, would often act in such a manner. She moved closer, adjusting the earpiece in her ear so as not to cause feedback issues.
"How long has it been? Ten years? Twelve?" Rafe asked, his eyes moving over the crowd surrounding them, his eyes just narrowly passing Sara as she ducked behind a marble pillar that held up the balcony she had been on just moments before.
"Fifteen," Sullivan stated, all sense of emotion gone from his voice, yet he was trying to keep professional.
Rafe chuckled. "It's amazing. All these years gone by, here we are…we're still haggling over dead people's junk."
"Really? Aren't you running your parent's business?" Sullivan tried to keep his tone light.
"My business now. But yes, that is my day job." Rafe's humorous tone had changed, becoming severe. Sara could tell that Sullivan was aggravating the man. It wasn't good.
"Ho ho. That is one hell of a day job. You could probably afford to buy up everything on the block tonight."
"Well, sure, but what would be the point in that? These days I'm only looking for the...good stuff." Rafe's tone was direct as he continued to talk with Sullivan. The rich boy was differently hinting at something, and Sara had a clue as to what. "Big scores. Any advice on what I should pick up tonight?"
Sullivan snorted, glancing away from Rafe to Nadine. "Ha, yeah. Like I'd want to bid against him." The statement earned a laugh from the two people with him. "But um…" Sullivan leaned closer to Rafe's ear, gesturing towards the stage. "Just between you and me, I did notice they changed the order. I think somebody might be trying to rig this auction."
"Hmm," Rafe exaggerated the sound. "Well, remember where we are. This crowd didn't get rich by playing fair."
"Which is why you really need someone watching your back in a place like this." Nadine finally interjected into the conversation, moving slowly from Sullivan's left to Rafe's right, signalling her partnership with the man. Sullivan found himself at a loss for words when he realised his situation. Sara chose to appear at that moment, knowing that Sullivan needed an out before he said something he shouldn't.
As Sara joined the trio, she slipped her right arm into his left, clasping his elbow gently to avoid disturbing the scotch he held while his cigar was in his right. "Uncle Victor," She purred, eyes moving from her old friend to the opposition. "I leave you alone as I chat with an old acquaintance and find you here annoying this lovely pair."
"Ah, Sara!" Sullivan smiled, glad for the woman's interruption. "I was merely just chatting with some old acquaintance myself." He gestured to the pair in front of him with his cigar. Sara hummed as she drank from her champagne flute, taking in Rafe and Nadine. Now that she had them in front of her, she could see the muscles on Nadine, cementing the fact that the woman was a mercenary. As for Rafe, he was very much the pretty rich boy with his dark hair slipped back from his handsome face and piercing hazel eyes. Even his suit was designer. "Where are my manners? Rafe Alder and Nadine Ross, this is Sara Briggs. Sara, meet Rafe and Nadine."
"Hello." Sara gave the pair a slight smirk. Rafe's eyes quickly travelled her form, stopping at her breasts along the way, while Nadine just frowned at her.
"I see you paid for your entertainment for the night." Nadine scoffed, earning a glare from Sullivan and Sara for what the woman was insinuating.
"Did she just call Sara a prostitute?" Samuel's voice snapped in their ears.
Sullivan opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by Sara. "It's all right, Victor," She squeezed his elbow gently. "With how she is dressed, it's natural for her to assume that anyone looking better than her to be an escort." Sara's gaze hardened as it landed on Nadine, her smile widening as the dark skin's smirk dropped. "It's called 'black tie', dear. Maybe I can give you some pointers so that next time, you don't embarrass yourself." Rafe's lips pursed as he brought his glass on whiskery to his lips as a way to cover up his small chuckle.
Sullivan hadn't been afraid to laugh a single bit, managing to get some words out between laughs. "Sara is the daughter of an old friend of mine." It wasn't a lie. After Sara and Nathan were reunited fifteen years ago, Sullivan was introduced to her and her parents. Her parents even now served as his lawyers if he ever landed himself in a spot of trouble, which happened from time to time.
"I apologise for my business partner's words." Rafe pulled his glass from his lips, sparing a glance at Nadine. The woman was fuming at the insult the American woman had given her. She had excused herself under the pretence of getting herself another drink from the bar.
"Oh no," Sara said in a deadpan voice. "I offended her."
Sullivan laughed again. "You might come to regret that." He warned his friend, patting her hand on his elbow with the one holding his cigar.
"You look familiar," Rafe said, his eyes squinting a bit as they dragged over her body once again. "Have we met before?"
Sara tried to control her smile from dropping. There was a good possibility that Rafe saw her brother Nathan in her features. "Maybe just in passing. I've attended some of these soirees before." She lied.
Rafe nodded, his lips pursing as he accepted the answer. "You care much for artifacts?"
"History major." She answered, smile widening.
Sullivan chuckled when he saw how her face lit up. "She's actually the head curator for this small museum back home."
Rafe's brows rose at the statement. "Well, Sullivan. You clearly got the better woman on your arm tonight."
"Tell me," Sara tilted her head, "What brings such a refined gentleman such as yourself to tonight's gathering?" She saw how smug he became when she complimented him and fed into his engorged ego. She could make this work in her brother's favour, especially if he was going after the cross too.
"Well, I'd be happy to entertain you on the fact if Sullivan doesn't mind?" Rafe looked at the older gentleman.
"Oh, there's no stopping Sara once you get her talking about history and artifacts." Sullivan extended his arm that Sara held out to Rafe, and the younger man extended his own for her to take. With a quick kiss on Sullivan's cheek, Sara took Rafe's arm and let him guide her away from Sullivan.
"Why is that shithead touching Sara?" Samuel's voice snapped.
"Shut it, kid. She's gathering intel." Sullivan retorted back.
Sara wanted to sigh as Rafe led her to the right of the stage front, but she had to ignore her idiot brother's protective ramblings. She was broken from her thoughts when Rafe's arm moved from guiding her by her arm to the small of her back, his hand sitting comfortably close to her ass on her lower spine. Oh, that would have Samuel seething.
"How did you come by your interest in history?" Rafe asked innocently as if he hadn't just placed his hand where it was. Sara decided to go along with his act.
"My mother collected artifacts to do with her Celtic history. No matter the cost, she had to have it on display in her home, claiming it was honouring where she came from," she answered, taking a sip from her flute.
"Parents must be well off to afford such trinkets." He comments, watching her lips as she drank.
"Hotshot Boston Lawyers." Sara sang.
That statement got an eyebrow from Rafe. "Didn't think to become one yourself? You certainly have the power of quick remarks for it."
"No," She chuckled, shaking her head. "But my baby brother did. I wanted to forge my own path, not be known for them. Rafe's face turned serious momentarily as he thought about her words, his gaze downcast until his eyes returned to her, and he nodded. He completely understood the desire to make one's own name for themselves, to want something that isn't handed to you. "What about you? What's your interest in history?"
Rafe chuckled. "I loved the tales of the glory of great explorers finding long-forgotten treasures. Hoped to do it myself one day." Sara knew better than to ask him if he'd found anything yet. While she already knew the answer to it, Nathan hold told her in the past, the man had a short temper, and almost anything could set him off. She didn't want to be that anything. "Have you ever had the chance to experience such adventures?" His thumb rubbed gently on her lower spine as he stared at her, a smug look on his face that was meant to be flirtatious.
"He better move his fucking hand off your ass."
Sara couldn't help the giggle that left her mouth as Samuel swore in her ear, the airy laugh working in her favour as Rafe took it as her flirting back at what he was doing with his hand. "Wish that I could say that I have. Sadly my family doesn't want me to get out there. Think I would find it all too hard." Sara purred, smirking when his face got even smugger.
"Oh, I'm sure you could handle many hard things," Rafe whispered, leaning down close to her as his breath tickled her uncovered right ear.
"Okay, Sara, if you don't back away from him, I'm coming over there and banging this tray into the side of his skull."
"Sam shut up and let the girl work."
Sara let herself giggle again as the two men argued in her ear. "Tell me, Rafe, anything got your eye tonight?" His smug smile didn't falter as he racked his hazel eyes down her body. The boy was being way too obvious with his advances. Sara assumed that he was used to getting what he wanted, used to women throwing themselves at him with open arms and legs. When his eyes landed back on her own, his tongue tentatively dragged out against the skin of his lips, wetting the surface as he went to speak. Sara would be lying if she didn't find the gesture attractive.
"There is something that has my eye."
It was her turn to torment the man, tilting her head up ever so slightly and nearing his lips to her own. "I meant the artifacts." He chuckled in response, his breath warm against her lips.
"In a few moments, we'll begin bidding on our next item, an inlaid wooden crucifix from the Trott Estate." The host on the stage spoke aloud. Rafe's eyes shifted to the stage, Sara briefly forgotten as his eyes landed on the cross. Sara followed his gaze. The man was after it just as they were, which meant he had been the one to bribe the event holders for the lot change.
"I can tell when I'm no longer wanted," Sara pouted, moving to return to Sullivan, but Rafe's grip became tight as his hand landed on her hip, holding her close against him.
"Now, why would I want you to leave? I'm enjoying your company too much."
"Need a good luck charm?" She jested, earning a chuckle from the man. She stayed by his side as the bidding started, Rafe outbidding anyone else that tried to bid on the cross. Sara took the opportunity to glance around the room, taking in the spectators, noticing that Nadine Ross had left the room, which was suspicious. Sara had expected the woman to keep an eye on his business partner. Sullivan had occasionally tried reaching out to Nathan through his earpiece as the bidding continued. Nerves started to get to the three of them as they heard nothing from the middle Morgan child. Sara controlled herself not to suck in a breath in front of Rafe when she finally listened to her brother's voice, joy flooding through her system, knowing that he was alive and okay.
"Sam? Sara? Sully? You there?" Nathan's asked the trio after having been radio silent for so long.
"God damn it, kid, where the hell've you been?" Sullivan asked back from where he was watching Rafe and Sara.
"I made it. Had a few close calls, but–"
"Yeah, well, if you're gonna cut the power, now would be a good time."
"All right, well, I'm gonna need a minute before I can reach the panel."
"We don't have a minute. Rafe's about to walk out of here with your cross."
"Wait, what? Rafe? Rafe is here?"
"Yes, Rafe is here. And he's had his hands all over our sister." Samuel added in, seething hate to his tone.
"And he's the highest bidder!" Sullivan interjected, considering that more concerning than the man flirting with Sara.
"Sara?!" Nathan was confused for a moment before composing himself. "Sully outbid him."
"With what? I don't have that kind of scratch."
"Sully, we're stealing it, remember?"
"What if he calls my bluff?"
Nathan sighed, getting annoyed with this conversation. "He won't."
Sara had found it hard to stand there beside Rafe, the man still having his arm around her as she listened to the three men bicker about what to do. She wanted to scream at Sullivan just to make the bid. Nathan was right. Rafe was too prideful to let another man outbid him.
"We have ninety thousand. Do I hear any more bids?" The auctioneer asked the crowd.
"Guys, if we do not get this cross, I am as good as dead," Samuel commented, eying off Rafe and the smug look on the man's face, acting like he was a winner and nothing could stop him.
"Yeah, well, I end up with the highest bid. We're all dead." Sullivan groaned, not enjoying the predicament.
"Sully, I need you to buy me more time," Nathan begged his old friend. "Trust me."
"Ah. screw it." Sullivan muttered, raising his paddle just as the auctioneer was able to end the bidding.
"Bene! We have one hundred thousand euros in the room. Thank you. Do we have any other bids?" The auctioneer asked, her Italian accent thick.
Rafe looked over past Sara, his gaze landing on Sullivan, who could only smile back at the younger man. Sara had followed Rafe's gaze. When she felt Rafe's eyes land on her, her head stapped to him, eyes wide as she shook her head, faking confusion at Sullivan's actions. Rafe seemed to believe her, as his gaze somewhat softened when she did so, yet his hand kept a firm grip on his hip, almost bruisingly. He raised his paddle, ready to make another bid. The auctioneer announced the bidding at one hundred and ten thousand euros. A small war broke out between the two men, the bid rising by ten thousand each time one of them raised their paddle.
"All right, team, I'm at the switch," Nathan spoke, his voice a welcome sound amidst the tension. "You ready? "
"As I'll ever be," Samuel confirmed, edging closer to the stage. "Victor?"
"Just a sec." The older man took one last drag of his cigar, raising the bid to one hundred and ninety thousand euros. He couldn't help but poke the bear that was Rafe one last time.
Rafe raised his paddle, his bid making a shock overtake the spectating crowd. "Five hundred thousand! Let's get this show on the road here."
The auctioneer hadn't been expecting the man to make such a bid, the action leaving her just as gobsmacked as the attending watching. She looked to Sullivan, enquiring if the man wanted to bid again. Rafe and Sara looked at him, waiting to see what he would do, Sara acting curious, knowing he would hand the win to Rafe. Sullivan scoffed, mock bowing in defeat to Rafe.
"Had me worried there for a minute, Victor." Rafe gestured at him with his paddle, his arm still around Sara. "Thought I might have to kill you!" the room laughed at the joke, not knowing the true threatening undertones of Rafe's words. Sara didn't doubt that the man with his arm around her wouldn't hesitate to kill Sullivan if it meant getting that cross. The pair waited patiently as the auctioneer went to finish the bid, Nathan listening in through the earpieces his team wore for the opportune time to cut the power. As the room went dark, some women began to panic in the room, despite the reassurances from the auctioneer speaking loudly to the crowd that the backup power would kick in. Sara clung to Rafe, her palms resting against his chest as she pretended to be just as panicked, the man holding her closure in the form of comfort. As the backup power came to life, the room lit up, and Sara eased off Rafe, offering him a mumbled apology.
"It's gone!" A male's voice rang out, causing Rafe to rip his attention off of Sara to the stage, where he himself could see that the cross was gone. His eyes moved to where Sullivan stood, watching the man casually leave through the cellar doors. With all thoughts of Sara forgotten, Rafe bolted from her, dashing the doors. He had been stopped by an armed guard who wouldn't let him go further despite his protests. Rafe's mind whirled to thoughts of Sara, and when he turned around, the brunette was gone too. Rafe threw his paddle, swearing as he realised he had been played.
Sara had used the opportunity to slip away, moving through the crowd. Because of what happened in the ballroom, the guests had been ordered to leave, being stopped by guards at the entrance to be searched. Sara couldn't risk being stopped and searched by the guards, mainly because of Rafe finding her and what he would do if he did. When a hand gripped her arm, she swung at the perpetrator but stopped when she saw Marco Gallow's smiling face. He guided her outside, past security and to his car.
"I must thank you and your friends," Marco said, his accent thick, once inside his car and speeding out of the front gardens. Sara eyed him, which only made the man laugh. "I made use of that little power outage. I killed off my business partner. No witnesses."
Sara sighed, laughing back in her seat as she finally felt the tension leave her body. She fiddled with the earpiece. "Sully?"
"Good to hear your voice, darling. You safe?" Sullivan inquired.
Sara spared a glance at Marco. "Marco Gallo got me out. I'll meet you all at the hotel."
"See you there, be safe."
"And you." Sara continued to stare at Marco, thankful for the man's assistance. Marco drove them in silence, only nodding as Sara instructed him on where to drive her. "You told me you killed him because you wanted me to trust you."
"Si." He responded, taking another glance at the woman in his passenger seat. "I have no idea why you and your brother would be so desperate for that cross, but Nathan Drake is a good man, so I wish you both luck with the task ahead of you." Sara had made connections to Marco Gallo years ago when she first started helping out Nathan with his treasure hunting, the Italian man helping sell off artifacts and treasures that her brother had found. He had even passed on some jobs to Nathan in the past too.
Sara chuckled as he parked outside of her hotel. "Grazie, Marco." She opened the door, ready to step out, and bid the man farewell. "Arrivederci, Marco. Give my love to the wife and kids."
Marco chuckled, waving her off. "Arrivederci, Sara." She watched him speed off before turning to her room, where she would have to wait to hear from her siblings and Sullivan. All she could do was hope that they got out of the Rossi Estate safely. But from past experiences, she knew that trouble always seemed to find her family. She had heard enough of Nathan's stories to know that.