CHAPTER 1
Stealing from an earl at a New Year’s Eve masquerade ball is a first, even for me. Normally, I break into vast mansions or office buildings and get the things I need in the middle of the night. Unseen. Untraceable. Unstoppable.
Two months ago, I dressed up for Halloween and went into a maze at Everthorne Hall, London’s most infamous and prestigious sex club, to steal a priceless necklace.
But a masquerade ball at a castle, thrown by the Earl of Harcourt for the wealthiest aristocrats in the United Kingdom? This is new. And a thrilling challenge for a change, since the past couple of weeks have been terribly boring and I’ve spent most of my time alone at home with my cat.
God, I just hope neither the king nor the queen nor someone else from the Royal Family is in attendance tonight. I’ll never get past their security—and I want this job done, because I have a reputation to uphold. I never fail. I’ve never been caught or convicted. And I plan to continue my streak.
My fingers tingle in anticipation as I smooth out a wrinkle in my sleeveless royal-blue gown and walk through the ballroom as if I belong here. As if I’m one of them.
As I move through the crowd, I can’t help but notice the twinkling lights coming from the enormous chandeliers. I bet just one of those would cost more than my liver on the current black market.
Rich, beautiful people in splendid gowns fill the packed dance floor, while an eight-piece ensemble performs classical music. If it weren’t for the modern clothes, their hairstyles, and the phones in their hands, I’d feel as if I’d wandered straight into an episode of Bridgerton.
Luckily, everyone’s wearing a mask tonight, varying from full-face coverage for anonymity to masks that look more like pretty accessories. Which means I don’t have to pretend to know who these people are. Instead I blend right in.
I finish my round right where it began, next to the entrance door, with a fresh drink in hand.
What appeared to be aimless wandering, taking everything in, was really surveillance. There’s a member of the security team stationed in each corner of the ballroom, two at each door.
As I take a sip of my champagne, I turn away from one of the cameras. They’re hidden well, unless you know what you’re looking for.
The camera now solely captures the perfect fit of my ball gown and my voluminous sweep-train skirt.
I chose a simple but gorgeous dress for tonight, and I had to pay a fortune just to rent it.
The gown has a sweetheart neckline with a satin bodice, and a royal-blue mask goes with it, hiding almost my entire face.
It would be a perfect match for the blue tips at the ends of my brown hair, though I’ve concealed them with an elegant high bun tonight.
Otherwise the color would be too peculiar, standing out among the clean-cut guests.
As I take another look around the ballroom, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Something’s wrong.
Someone’s watching me.
Instead of looking around, I place my drink on a nearby table and blend into the crowd. The babble of voices and the sweet sound of music follow me as I walk through the ballroom.
So does the tingling sensation on my neck.
A sense of relief washes over me when my eyes meet another woman’s gaze. For a second, I feared a security guard might have discovered I’d snuck in.
Or someone else watching me.
I shake off that thought and zero in on the woman observing me from afar.
She has icy blonde hair pulled back on one side of her head and striking grey eyes that look like a storm waiting to happen.
Even with a mask covering her face, I can tell she’s the kind of beautiful that borders on dangerous.
And yet her taupe-colored dress seems to dim her shine, not accentuate it.
I wonder why she chose this dress for tonight. Maybe for whichever mediocre man she’s here with. Too bad. She’s gorgeous, and she shouldn’t make herself small for anyone. Especially not some guy.
Speaking of guys . . .
My eyes sweep the room once again and finally land on Lord Harcourt. He’s our host for the evening and owner of Harcourt Castle, located three hours north of London.
He’s also the man I’ll rob before the clock strikes midnight.
Unfortunately, this mission is a little more complicated than I’m used to.
Forging an invitation to the party and getting in as one of the prestigious guests was the easy part.
According to my hacker friend, Trace, Lord Harcourt keeps his most precious belongings in a safe in his office.
A safe I’ll need not a code for, but a fingerprint.
And not just one fingerprint, of course, because that would be way too easy.
Oh no, this guy is far too paranoid, so I’ll need a set of three different fingerprints from the man.
However the hell I’ll get them. I’m still trying to figure that part out.
“Looking for something?” a deep voice asks behind me. “Or should I say, someone?”
A shiver crawls down my spine, and my heart skips a beat, then it thuds painfully fast behind my ribs.
I turn around—and suck in a breath.
Somehow, I expected him to be wearing what he always does: a simple black shirt, black jeans, boots, and his typical skull mask covering his entire face.
I wasn’t prepared for this.
To continue reading click here.