Chapter Text
Chapter 1
The upscale restaurant shimmered with low golden lighting, tucked within a towering glass hotel along Miami’s oceanfront. The sound of softly clinking silverware and jazz piano filled the air as designer heels tapped across the polished marble floors. Waiters in crisp black uniforms moved like clockwork through the tables, pouring wine and offering caviar without a second glance.
Doctor Spencer Reid adjusted the cuff of his charcoal Armani jacket as he followed his “date” for the evening. Isabelle Laurent, the heiress to a supposedly clean tech empire, but suspected of laundering money through shell companies and leveraging it to fund a dark web auction ring. She laughed a little too loudly at something he hadn’t quite said, her manicured fingers crushing the inside of his wrist as they were led to a table in the center of the room.
He nodded politely, slipping into the role of “Nicholas Vale” an Ivy League investment genius who had supposedly made his fortune trading algorithms and rare crypto assets. A clean front. A high roller and the perfect bait.
As he moved to take his seat, Spencer’s gaze flicked up, just briefly. But that glance caught her.
Across the dining floor, seated beside a man known only as Lucien D’Amato, a wealthy ‘collector’ with rumored ties to stolen antiquities and weapons smuggling, was a woman in a black cocktail dress that shimmered like ink in candlelight. Elegant, poised and dangerous. Her red hair was swept up with subtle perfection, a string of diamonds catching light at her collarbone. And her eyes, he knew those eyes.
It was her, Ruby.
No, Veronica Hale.
His jaw tightened slightly, not enough to give him away, but enough that Isabelle noticed and smirked as she reached for her wine glass. “Well now,” She purred, “Don’t tell me you’re bored with me, Nicholas?”
Spencer forced a soft chuckle, relaxing his shoulders as he turned back to her, feigning casual amusement. “Just admiring the decor,” he replied smoothly, the double meaning not lost on him.
But his eyes, just for a second, found Ruby’s again from across the room. His breath caught for half a second. She looked stunning. And her unsub had leaned in far too close, fingers ghosting along her bare arm as he said something in her ear. Spencer’s hand curled under the table, hidden from view. He forced himself to look away before anyone noticed. They couldn’t blow this. Not now. But god, it burned.
Ruby brought her wine glass to the table as Lucien’s hand ghosted up her arm and then slithered behind the chair to rest while he was chatting her up. She gave a light airheaded laugh that one would expect from a super model absolutely enamored with her company. As she brought the champagne glass back to her lips her eyes scanned the room.
Her heart skipped a beat as her eyes landed on Spencer a few tables away in a tailored suit with a woman leaning forward flirtatiously toying with his slightly unbuttoned button up under his suit jacket as she spoke to him. His curls styled attractively as he sat there. His slight stubble mustache and goatee formed his Adonis jawline. “Nicolas Vale” was the man that locked eyes with her. She tore her eyes from him as her chest tightened.
She was brought back to the moment as Lucien’s hand grazed over her bare shoulder. “So, tell me Lucien, what line of work did you say you were in again?” Ruby turned her blue eyes back to her date with a small smile as she brought the wine glass to her lips. Locking eyes with the gentleman beside her. His salt and pepper hair slicked back with his younger features betraying his age. His green eyes raked in her appearance as he leaned in a bit to her as his fingers traced small circles on her shoulder.
Lucien’s lips curled into a slow, indulgent smile as he took a sip of his scotch, his watch, an antique Patek Philippe, glinting in the low light. His fingers never stopped tracing those idle, possessive circles on her shoulder, his posture all relaxed confidence as if he were surveying a piece of art he’d already purchased.
“Import-export,” he replied smoothly, the kind of answer that said nothing and everything at once. His accent was faintly European, Italian or maybe Swiss, a calculated ambiguity. “But my real passion is preservation. Art, history, relics of lost empires… beautiful things that deserve to be seen by the right people.” His eyes dragged slowly down to her neckline and back up, lingering without shame. “Like you, Veronica. A living masterpiece.”
He lifts his glass in a silent toast to her, eyes glinting. “And what about you? Tell me more about your gallery. Do you personally select each piece you show, or do you simply let beauty find you?”
Across the room, Isabelle let out another laugh, brushing her fingers along the inside of Spencer’s tie as she leaned in. “You’re quieter than I expected, Nicholas. I was told you were the kind of man who could sell sand in the desert.” She grinned, teeth bright against her red lipstick. “Or is there something else on your mind?”
Spencer offered a modest, lopsided smile as he rested one hand on the table, forcing himself to keep his gaze solely on her. “Let’s just say I know when to speak and when to listen.” Under the table, his foot tapped once, quick, involuntary. His hand itched to reach for his comm unit, to hear her voice. Not Veronica, Ruby… His Ruby. Just to know she was okay under Lucien’s watchful eye, but he couldn’t. Not her, not now. He met her eyes once more across the room before she turned away again and it twisted something deep in his chest.
Ruby smiled, a charming tilt to her rose colored lips. “Art is a passion. Although some people may think I have no taste because I’m a model.” She smiled as she took another drink of her champagne. She then placed the glass down on the table with elegance,” but I do have to say, I do have a very soft spot for diamonds and jewels.” Her hand moved a bit to let her French manicure finger tip trace the expensive chain that was draped around Lucien's neck.
Lucien’s smile deepened, eyes glittering with intrigue as her fingers traced the edge of his gold chain. He tilted his head slightly, watching her like a cat might watch a silk ribbon, slow, calculating and possessive. “Then clearly, you have excellent taste, Veronica,” He said smoothly, his voice dipped in indulgence as he leaned in ever so slightly, his cologne mixing with the aroma of aged whiskey and leather.
He reached into his suit jacket’s inner pocket and retrieved a small, velvet lined box. Not opening it right away, he turned it casually in his hand as if weighing its value before finally laying it on the white linen tablecloth between them. “Since you’ve been so gracious to meet me tonight,” he murmured, his eyes on her mouth now. “I thought a woman like you should leave with something worthy of her elegance.”
With a light flick of his wrist, the box opened to reveal a dazzling vintage diamond bracelet, Art Deco style, likely worth tens of thousands. Clean, untouched and probably stolen. “I imagine it would pair perfectly with your taste in art and fashion.” He added, his voice low and coaxing. “Consider it… a token of appreciation.”
Across the room, Spencer’s jaw visibly clenched, his fingers tightening around the stem of his wine glass the moment he saw the box open and Lucien lean in.
Isabelle followed his gaze for a beat, her brows arching with amusement. “Well, well,” she chuckled lightly, swirling her wine, "it seems like you’re not the only one with a taste for beautiful women and money.”
Spencer blinked, caught in the act. He gave a tight lipped smile, lifting his glass to cover the way his jaw tensed. “I suppose I appreciate fine art,” he replied evenly. “Even when it’s displayed in the wrong gallery.”
Isabelle laughed again, tilting her head. “Mm. Touché. But don’t get too distracted, darling. You might miss what’s right in front of you.” She leaned closer, her hand sliding to his thigh beneath the table, testing his limits.
But Spencer barely registered it. His gaze had flickered to Ruby again, watching for any change in her expression. Any sign that she was slipping or worse… enjoying it.