Lina snorted. “You always exaggerate.”
Marcus stepped forward. He reached into the case, pulled out the painting—the real painting, the one Novak had taken from the vault—and held it up to the light. grand theft
“Don’t,” he said. “We don’t want the painting. We want the painting to stay where it is. The fake, I mean. The one hanging in the vault. It’s very good. Our restorer—the real Pietro Fontana—would not have noticed for months. Perhaps years.” Lina snorted
“Now,” he said, “we commit a different kind of grand theft. We steal the truth.” pulled out the painting—the real painting
No one answered.
“You’re lying,” he said.
“Mr. Nazarov,” the tall man said. “My name is Dante. I represent the Duchessa’s family.”