HE GAVE HIS MISTRESS MY PADDLE. HE FORGOT THE AUCTION HOUSE BELONGED TO ME

I said. “You are staying.”

Two men in dark suits moved quietly toward the doors.

They were not security guards.

They were investigators from the Manhattan District Attorney’s Financial Crimes Bureau, attending as guests of the auction house’s compliance counsel.

Julian saw them.

His expression changed.

Not fear yet.

Calculation.

He still believed he could continue reading …