[MAX]
Tinsley de Loughrey was staying in one of the best hotels Doha had to offer; Sharq Village and Spa. It was only three kilometers from the Museum of Islamic Art, which more than suited her needs. Due to her wealth and status she had reserved the Royal Suite; it was extravagant and spacious.
Breaker didn't leave until he'd secured the area.
More appropriately, Breaker didn't leave until he thought he had secured the area. It wasn't that he sucked at his job; it was that Reznor excelled at his.
To say Tinsley was surprised to see me seated in her suite would be an understatement. I think if she had been holding anything she would've dropped it; as it was, she froze in place and stared at me with cold and calculating eyes.
"Who are you?" she asked. Her voice had a chilled edge to it. "What are you doing in here?"
It was only when she went for her phone, which she had left on the bed, that I spoke. "You don't want to do that."
She stopped just short of the bed, her hand still extended when she turned her head back toward me. She stared at me appraisingly before her expression shifted to one of annoyance and distaste. "Why not?"
"It won't work, for one thing," I said. "For another, I have a gun, and you don't."
She straightened and left her phone on the bed. She stared down her nose at me for a moment before, "I'll scream."
I shrugged. "Okay. But it'll be embarrassing for you, don't you think? To be found all alone in a room? Scared of ... nothing?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Who are you? Why are you here?"
I shrugged, "Maybe I just like breaking into rich people's hotels. Maybe I'm not so fond of De Loughrey Safeguard." I got to my feet then, and kept an eye on her as I did so. "Maybe I've got business with the Empress."
I could see the muscles in her neck flex when she swallowed, but she composed herself quickly enough. She continued to regard me as one would something that had crawled out of the gutter. "I've no idea what you're talking about. And if you do have issues with my business, this hardly seems the appropriate way to go about solving them."
"I dunno," I said, feigning thoughtfulness. "This method of doing business hasn't failed me yet." I took a few steps toward her as I gauged her.
She didn't step back or flinch away. She continued to regard me with sharp blue eyes void of any emotion; eyes decorated by fancy, intricate makeup, which no doubt was intended to distract viewers from what they were really seeing.
Not a bratty, stuck-up, art-hungry young media icon, but a calculating, dangerous businesswoman who actually had ideas on how to play the hand she had been dealt.
"You're good, I'll give you that," I conceded. "You've managed to keep the FBI and Interpol off your back, and you're smart enough to let Breaker deal with the meetings when it comes to making a sale." I paused as I studied her face. "But you're not that good. You've picked up some help, haven't you, Tinsley?"
She rolled her eyes and tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder before she glared down at me. "I've still got no idea what you're talking about. But I do know that once Breaker gets back in here, you're going to be in for a world of hurt. Gun or no gun."
I flashed a sharp smile that conveyed a warning. "Changing the subject isn't going to help you. How long have you been doing business with Sebastian Berkshire? Longer than your public relationship?"
That got a reaction out of her; her eyes widened and her lips parted in an unspoken question. She managed to collect herself, but took too long to convincingly play innocent. "You know Sebastian."
