TWO
MARISA
“Champagne?” the waiter in the penguin suit asks me as he holds a shimmering platter filled with bubbling flutes.
I greedily accept a glass and swiftly sip the liquor, hoping that it will calm some of the jittering nerves running through me.
This party is much nicer than I would have expected from the likes of the man who finger fucked me in an alleyway with steak still staining his fingers just a few nights ago.
But, if there’s one thing Alexander Yovik is known for, its appreciation of lavishness and opulence.
“There is my arm candy,” the man of the hour states as he siddles up next to me, grabbing a handful of ass as he does.
The urge to smack the man across the face strikes me, but I remind myself of the multi million dollar payday and the beach waiting for me once I make it through this job, and I hold my tongue.
Alexander picked my outfit, because of course he did.
Yesterday, a large black box arrived at my door.
Inside was the most lavish costume he could possibly have picked—the skin tight dress is made of the richest sapphire blue and clings tightly to my curves.
Layered on top are sheer, shimmering layers of gold and red tulle with a woven design of shimmering feathers.
The bust is cut low, showing off my ample breasts.
A large golden headpiece rests atop my deep red hair with glittering spires pointing out around my head in a halo, reminding me of rays of the sun.
My mask is a similar glimmering golden masquerade style piece which wraps around the upper half of my face only, obscuring very little of my true identity.
It’s no matter—no one here knows me. I don’t make a habit of getting friendly with many in the Brotherhood.
The mafia is full of criminals more deadly than I, and I have absolutely no interest in making enemies with the Russians.
In and out. Get the tapestry, drop it at the van I paid to have parked in the alley below, and then get out of here before anyone even notices me. That’s the plan anyway, but camouflaging into the shadows of the background when I’m dressed like a golden bird is easier said than done.
Fucking men and their need to show off.
“Moya Alkonost,” Alexander purrs in my ear as his eyes rove hungrily over my chest.
I smile seductively and bat my unreasonably long lashes at the man currently devouring me with his gaze.
He is clearly dressed as a bear. A long brown fur coat, which I’m not certain is not actually bearskin, is draped over his broad shoulders and his mask is some long snouted black style that actually makes him slightly more tolerable to look at than normal.
I only need to put up with the man for an hour or two more and then I can slink away into the sunshine.
The thought brings a true smile to my face.
“Not too much, baby girl,” he says as I bring the glass to my lips and take another sip of the bubbles. “I want you completely with me later when I have you riding my cock.”
A few people around us hear his brash words and spare us questioning glances. My cheeks flush but I try to ignore the stares and looks while we walk together through the crowded party.
“Yes, Daddy,” I tell him as I deposit my half full glass on a tray passing by us. “Why don’t I go freshen up and let you mingle with your guests?”
He gives me a predatory grin, grabbing my ass again, and leaning in to whisper in my ear. “You better have worn the undergarments provided for you with this costume.”
My face contorts with confusion for a moment. “There wasn’t any underwear in the box.”
“Exactly,” he replies, slapping my ass and shoving me off towards the restrooms as he not so discreetly adjusts himself through his slacks.
What a freaking line dude.
I suppress my eye roll, instead opting for a sweet smile as I head off towards the restrooms.
Alexander Yovik’s home is beyond opulent.
I knew when I did my recon that the man was wealthy.
No—not wealthy, disgustingly rich. But this house is over the top in every regard.
There are pillars topped with gold filigree around the perimeter of the giant ballroom we’re currently inside of for the party.
The marble floors are shimmering white, so polished that they reflect the soft gold glow of the lighting from the multiple crystal chandeliers above.
Men in black suits with ear pieces are discretely positioned around the room for security.
I slip past them, swaying slightly and giggling as if I am a tipsy party patron.
I’m so wrapped up in slipping past the guards that I don’t notice the six-foot-something wall of muscle standing right in front of me until it’s too late. I crash into him full speed, swaying backwards slightly on my ridiculous heels. My arms windmill outwards as I try to steady myself.
“Got you,” the man says as he wraps his arms around me.
I stare up into the face of the man I’m currently clinging to like a fool and my stomach twists.
He is absolutely the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.
Dark hair is slicked back exposing a square, chiseled face with high cheekbones.
The center of his chin is creased slightly and I want to run my finger over the small divot.
He’s taller than me and clothed in all black, which is doing nothing to hide his muscular form.
But it’s his eyes that are truly hypnotic—warm brown irises rimmed with a stunning golden ring that makes it look as though flames are flickering in his gaze.
The mask he wears is made of golden feathers, not too dissimilar to the ones adorning my dress.
He smiles down at me and a dimple creases his cheek.
Damn, I’m a sucker for a man with dimples.
“You alright?” he asks. His voice is like a nice Scotch—smooth and smoky and delicious.
My panties would be drenched… if I was wearing any.
He moves me effortlessly to a standing position while I attempt to regain my composure.
I’ve been around my fair share of attractive men, usually they’re too cocky to know how to use their cock, but this man exudes big dick energy for sure.
The urge to climb him like a tree and see if my theory is accurate is strong.
Down girl, we have a job to do.
“I’m fine,” I admit. My voice comes out breathy and hardly the confident droll which I usually use on men.
What the hell is this man doing to me?
“Well, it must be my lucky day,” he says as he swings me upward onto my feet. I cling tightly to the front of his button down. “No one to dance with and a beautiful woman literally lands right in my hands.”
Okay, the line is a bit cheesy. But when he says it with that smirk… that dimple; yeah, I’m damn near swooning.
“Is that your way of asking me to dance?” I ask, regaining some of my composure.
“Would you say yes if I did?” He cocks a dark eyebrow at me as he asks, slipping his hand in mine and gliding us effortlessly towards the dance floor.
“I was on my way to something,” I hesitate for a moment, but as his other hand slides slowly down my spine, I cave. “But, I suppose I could spare a few moments for a dance.”
A genuine smile overtakes his face and, damn this man, he’s even more handsome when he smiles. Dark ink peeks out from beneath his clothing, a hint of a tattoo. I want to see more. He whisks me around, sending the glittering thread of my dress spinning, catching the low light as we turn.
“I’m Phoenix,” he whispers in my ear, pulling my body tightly against his muscular frame.
I’m no petite little flower of a gal but this guy makes me feel small. He must be at least six-four.
“Marisa,” I respond, realizing too late that I gave him my real name.
I never give men my real name.
“Marisa,” he repeats, my name dripping from his lips like honey as he spins me round and round.
Other couples gracefully glide across the floor as well but I barely see them, barely even notice they’re there; I’m too consumed with my mysterious masked man.
“What has brought you here tonight, Marisa?”
“I am supposed to be arm candy for the host, Alexander Yovik,” I answer honestly.
He tsks against the shell of my ear, a displeased sound. “Don’t lie to me, p?těn?c?.”
Unease builds in my core. My defensive walls begin to build back up and I feel myself stiffen. Phoenix must notice because he chuckles softly, the sound vibrating his chest which I’m currently pressed against.
“You’re here for the tapestry, right?” he asks, so softly that only I can hear, before he spins me outward.
My shocked expression must instantly give me away. I’ve never been caught before. And certainly I’ve never been called out like this by… Well, I don’t know who the fuck this smartass is exactly, but he seems to have me pegged.
“Who the hell are you?” I ask as he releases my hand, leaving me standing in the center of swirling dancers as he slowly steps backwards.
“I told you, moya p?těn?c?,” he says as he reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a Zippo and cigarette. Bringing the flame to the tip of the tobacco between his teeth, he lights it, the smoke swirling around him as the tip glows red. “Phoenix.”
He drops the cigarette, igniting the fluid I clearly didn’t see earlier lining the walkway which leads out of the ballroom. Flames immediately shoot up, flaring up around the form of the man slowly backing away. Shrieks ring out, and I cover my face to avoid the crushing heat of the flames.
“Get back!” Alexander’s voice thunders through the shouts of the crowd. His fat fingers wrap around my arm and pull me back from the blaze. “Security! Get this put out, now!”
Men in suits come running, fire extinguishers in hand. Alexander holds tightly to my arm, his grip bruising. I wonder for a second if he saw me dancing with the masked pyro…
“Are you hurt?” he asks me while giving me a slight glance out of the corner of his eye, maintaining his focus on the slowly dying blaze.
“He mentioned a tapestry,” I blurt out.
It’s a risky move. There will be no chance to pull off the heist now that I’ve brought his attention to the tapestry, but my plan was already blown up… literally, by a man dressed like a fucking golden bird. So, if he wants to ruin my plan, then two can play that game.
Karma’s a bitch.
Alexander’s eyes go wide with horror as he swivels to stare at me. “Tapestry?”
He sounds pissed. He grumbles something in angry Russian into the intercom, which I know is hidden on him somewhere, and immediately even more black suit-clad storm troopers surround us.
“Let’s go,” he barks out as a path in the flames is cleared.
“Me?” I ask in horror as I’m jostled forward by the guards. My pulse is thumping at a heightened tempo. “I didn’t do anything.”
My feet shuffle across the marble floor as the men surrounding us look straight ahead, like well dressed robots.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” Alexander grumbles as he walks swiftly towards the ornate twirling staircase which leads to the second story.
“Not with a dangerous thief lurking in my house.” He turns to one of his men, the vein in his temple throbbing.
“How did he get in here? Find out who let an unidentified thief into my home and rip each one of their toenails off… slowly.”
Gross. And horrible.
The storm trooper robot man nods and breaks from the group, I’m guessing to go investigate. I don’t dare say a word. If Yovik begins to suspect me, I’m cooked.
We reach the second story and march down a hallway that I know leads to his office. Right where I suspected the tapestry was hiding.
I was so fucking close.
“What the fuck!?” Alexander roars as he throws open the carved wooden double doors. “It’s gone!”
I peek around the doorway as the guards file into the room, searching every nook and cranny as if the giant man and the priceless tapestry are hiding beneath the couch. Idiots. He’s long gone with the prize… my prize.
Fuck a damn duck.
“Find him! Fucking find him!” Alexander screeches as he picks up a glass statue from his desk and hurls it against the wall.
I take that as my sign to duck out before things get too wild around here. But just as I’m about to spin, something catches my eye—a golden tail feather laying on the sill of the open window. It shifts slightly as a breeze blows by, the moonlight catching on the glimmering clue.