by Keri Lake
I can’t even think of food right now. I can’t even think of how he can think of food right now. “That won’t be necessary, Rand. I ate before I left,” I lie. “It’s not sitting well with me.”
“Ah, yes. Happens after a week of meals prepared by a chef. Do you need anything for indigestion?”
“No. Thank you. I’m just going to lie down.”
“Very well. It’s good to have you back at the Manor.”
Anxious to hide away in my room, I hustle up the staircase, counting the stairs while my head swirls in a number of thoughts, until something hard smashes into me. Knocked off balance, I flail my arms, and a hand reaches out to grab my wrist before I fall.
Hand to my chest, I catch my breath and look up to find Lucian frowning down at me.
Of all the times in the world to run into him, literally, why now?
Why, when my guilt is at its height?
“I’m really thinking a horn might be more appropriate for you.”
In spite of the anxiety tearing up my insides, I force a smile at that. In a parallel universe, I’d steal the opportunity to flirt. At the moment, I’m just being nice. “I almost think you enjoy watching me stumble into you.”
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find it somewhat amusing.”
As much as I’d love to engage our usual banter, a much heavier weight presses down on me. Slipping my wrist from his grasp, I clear my throat and hike my duffle higher onto my shoulder. “Excuse me. I’ll try to watch where I’m going.”
He doesn’t say a word, while I continue on up the staircase, the desperate impulse reminding me I’m not the pretty delicate thing who flirts and minds her manners. I’m a crude thief, a former street kid, one who does what she has to in order to survive.
Even if that means fucking over those who are willing to catch my fall.
Chapter 29
Isadora
Wringing the fabric of my dress, I stand in the elevator, waiting to reach Laura’s room on the second floor. The long maxi certainly wouldn’t have been my first choice, but the oversized, lightweight military jacket that Amy paired with it is perfect for tucking the doll inside. The trembling of my fingers, coupled with the cold, hollow feeling in my chest, is hard to ignore. It’s my body’s way of telling me I’m not the slick and heartless swindler I’ve spent all night convincing myself that I am. The physical manifestations of a girl with a conscience, who isn’t out to hurt anyone. In fact, this whole fiasco is about ensuring that no one gets hurt.
The elevator doors open on the empty sitting room, and from here, I can see the doll beneath the glow of light that shines down on her inside the glass case. I try to imagine her missing. Would anyone even notice, with all the dolls crammed together?
Nell wanders into the room, tipping her head. “You’re early this morning. She’s still under.”
“Think I got too much sleep over the weekend, myself. Feeling kind of antsy.”
“Well, hey, I’m going to grab some coffee from the kitchen. Can you listen for her?”
“Of course.”
It’s almost too easy. Or maybe I’ve just grown accustomed to how predictable and efficient things work in this place. I knew she’d still be asleep. The woman never wakes before her morning alarm that’s set for nine. I knew Nell would run down for her usual cup of coffee before things begin, taking her time, which would leave me completely alone.
The doors to the elevator close, and I glance at my watch. Twenty-to nine. I have just under that to grab the key, snatch the doll, store it away in my room, and return to Laura’s room before Nell gets back. When she does return, I’ll check my texts, where Aunt Midge will already have sent the message we discussed the night before, telling me she’s coming to pick me up.
It’s stupid. Perhaps the most under-thought plan I’ve come up with, and I’m certain there are a number of consequences that I haven’t even begun to explore.
But I don’t have the luxury of time, and even if I did, would it stop me?
Not when Aunt Midge’s life is on the line.
I shuffle across the room, into Laura’s bedroom, where the shades are still drawn. Her snores trail my steps through the dim light, as I tiptoe across the floor toward the tray on her vanity dresser, where she stores all of her jewelry. Halfway there, the floorboard beneath me creaks, and I halt, eyes screwed shut, as she sniffles and shifts in her bed. Daring a peek through the darkness of the room, I find her lying with her head turned away from me, and the sound of snores fills the room again.
The bracelet lies on top of her discarded jewelry, and I carefully lift it from the tray, the jitter in my hands threatening to drop the damn thing.
With the bracelet secured, I hurry out of the room. Seconds later, I’m lifting the doll from its stand, and rearranging the surrounding dolls to fill the gap left there.
Slightly bigger than I originally remember, I tuck it beneath my arm inside the jacket, feeling stiff and awkward as it rests against my ribs.
And just like that, I have officially stolen the most valuable thing I’ll ever touch in my life.
I close and lock up the case, before returning the bracelet to Laura’s jewelry tray, and hustle back out of the room.
Ten-to nine.
The elevator seems to take forever, and when it opens on Rand, the urge to throw up sends bile shooting up my throat.
“Miss Quinn! Are you on your way down?”
“I’m, um … I forgot to grab a coffee.”
“Ah, excellent. I’m off to grab some breakfast. I’ll accompany you to the kitchen.”
“I … okay.”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
The elevator reaches the bottom floor, where a number of people are bustling around. Construction workers, or something, judging by the tool belts strapped at their waists and one of the men carrying a ladder.
“What’s going on?” I ask, trying to distract myself from the guilt.
“Renovations for the atrium. The master is planning a masquerade ball, three weeks from today. There’s quite a bit of work that needs done before then.”
“Masquerade?”
“Yes. Some very important guests will be here.”
We wait for one of the workers to pass, a younger guy, maybe in his twenties, who winks and smiles as he passes.
Gaze trailing after him, Rand frowns. “I trust you’ll keep your distance from these men. I haven’t a clue what their background is.” He leans in, raising the hair on my skin with his proximity. “We’ve installed extra cameras, just in case.”
My blood turns cold. “Cameras?”
I didn’t even think of cameras. Why would I? It’s not like they have security here to monitor them.
“Yes. Master Griffin had them installed quite a few years ago. We’ve expanded the coverage to most of the common rooms.”
Common room? What the hell constitutes common? A sitting room? I swallow hard, my throat suddenly parched, lips dry. “Hey, I, um …. I need to stop at my room. I’m still not feeling the greatest.”
“Ah, yes, of course. Might I suggest some Pepto-Bismol? You’ll find some in the cupboard of your bathroom.”
“Thanks. I’ll catch up with you later, Rand.” On the verge of hyperventilating, I race down the hallway, practically sliding to a stop in front of my room.
“Isa?”
At the sound of my name, I jump back, and the doll falls to the floor. On impact, one of the hands cracks off.
Oh, no. Oh, my God.
My gaze snaps to Giulia, who frowns down at it before lifting eyes cold with suspicion back to me. “It’s … it’s not what you think.” Every muscle in my body is in a frenzy as I kneel down and gather up the doll with its broken hand.
“What is this, Isa?”
Glancing around, I open the door and usher her inside.
She shakes her head, shrugging my hand away. “I don’t want any part of this.”
“Please, let me explain.”
With
hesitation, she steps inside the room, looking over her shoulder as she comes to a stop a few paces in.
I scan the hallway once more, before clicking the door shut.
“Are you crazy? Stealing one of her dolls?”
“Believe me, Giulia. I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t need the money.”
“We all need the money. You don’t see me stealing it! Do you have any idea what they’ll do, if they catch you?”
String me up? Hide my body? I have no idea.
If there’s one person who might have any inkling what I’m going through right now, it’s a woman who lived on the streets. “I went home this weekend. My mom … she’s a junkie. It’s a long story, but she’s seeing some asshole who skipped off with about fifty grand worth of drugs. The drug dealer beat up my mom, and aunt, broke two of her fingers, and threatened to kill them, if we don’t pay him the money.” Tiny fissures in my composure bleed out the urgency ready to burst inside of me. “I’m freaking out here, Giulia.”
Dubious brown eyes stare back at me, the way I often looked at my mom when she told me similar ridiculous stories of desperation.
“I know this sounds nuts. It is nuts. But I can’t let him hurt my aunt. Or my mom.” It’s not my mom that concerns me, but I don’t tell her that.
Sighing, she steps past me, deeper into the room, and I wonder if she’s contemplating ratting me out. Not that she’d have to. I’m sure the camera caught everything. And now, even if I want to return the damn thing, its hand is broken.
“There’s no other way for you?” Back turned to me, she can’t see the hilarity of such a possibility written all over my face.
“Do you honestly think I’d be stealing this thing, a doll, if there was? I’ve wracked my brain trying to figure out how to fix this.”
“There might be another way. The question is, how much would you be willing to sacrifice to save your mother’s life?”
“What?”
She turns around, and the resolution etched in her expression is almost more terrifying than the look of shock from before. “What would you sacrifice to save your mother and aunt? Pain? Your dignity?”
“I just stole a freakin’ doll. I’d say dignity is out the window at this point. What are you getting at?”
A sharp exhale, and she presses her lips together, casting her gaze to the side. “There is a group. It’s how I got out of my situation. They help people. Lucian is a member of it.”
“What group?”
“I don’t know what they call themselves, but--”
A hard knock at the door startles my muscles, and I almost drop the doll again. “Oh, no.”
Looking around the room, I zero in on the dresser and shove the doll inside, beneath my underwear. At the other end of the drawer, I slide out my pocket knife from where I stored it to keep the maids from finding it under my pillow. Tucking it tight to my body so Giulia can’t see, I drop it into the pocket of my military jacket. I don’t know how this place handles thieves.
On my way to the door, Giulia grabs my arm. “Ask him about it,” she whispers. “Lucian. He’ll know what you mean.”
“I don’t think that’s going to help me now.” I twist my arm out of hers. “I’ve no doubt they’ve seen what I’ve done.”
With heavy steps, I clutch my stomach and stride toward the door, throwing it back on where Rand stands in the hallway. Chin lifted in the air, he stares down his nose at me, his brows stern with disappointment.
“Miss Quinn, Master Blackthorne has requested you report to his office immediately.”
Chapter 30
Lucian
Leaning back in my chair, I rewind the footage of Isa swiping the doll out of the glass case. I couldn’t give a damn about the overpriced toy, it’s the betrayal that gnaws at me. The idea that this girl has the balls to steal from right under my nose.
At the ding of the elevator door, I pause the footage, and when Rand escorts her into the office, I want to throttle my dick for lurching against my zipper. Head bowed, she comes to a stop in the middle of the room, not bothering to look me in the eye, and when I give Rand a nod, he exits the room.
Once the elevator doors close, I push forward in my chair, resting my hands against the desk. “Anything you want to tell me?”
She gives a subtle shake of her head that only stokes my anger. “Nothing I’m guessing you haven’t already seen.” Hands clasped in front of her, she looks ridiculous in that dress. A walking lie. Yet, at the same time, I can picture the flowy fabric draped across the back of my neck, with my head between her thighs.
A thought that pisses me off even more.
“Where is it?”
“In my drawer.”
“Your drawer. The dresser belongs to you, now, as well?”
Flinching, she shakes her head. “No, of course not.”
“It takes an enormous amount of trust to put someone in charge of caring for my mother.”
She bows her head further, probably so weighed down by guilt, it feels like a bowling ball propped on her neck.
“Why did you betray my trust in you, Isa?”
Eyes hiding behind long, black lashes, she sighs. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you didn’t mean to do. I want to know why you did do it?”
“I’ll return the doll and leave. If it’s all the same to you.”
I push up from my chair, adjusting the lapels of my coat as I round the desk and lean against the front of it. “As I understand, it’s broken now. Practically worthless.”
Flinching, she turns away from me and shakes her head. “I’m …. I don’t know what to say, Mr. Blackthorne.”
“I’m sure you don’t. There’s nothing you can say. Hundreds of thousands of dollars are gone to waste.”
“I find that excessive for something so fragile,” she says under her breath.
Shooting up from the desk, my frustration gets the best of me, and in three quick strides, I’m standing in front of her. “It’s not your place to say what’s excessive, or not. The fact is, you’ve destroyed something worth far more than yourself.”
Her eyes snap to mine, the thin sheen of tears gathered there bringing her bright gray eyes to life. Lips quivering, it’s like something snarky and smartass waits to tear free from her mouth. That’s how this girl is--quick with the quips--but instead, her gaze falls from mine once more. “I didn’t mean to break it.”
“The least you can do is tell me what was so important that you felt compelled to steal from me.”
Slim shoulders roll back, her eyes brimming with enough challenge to trip my switch.
My temper is on the cusp of exploding as I stare down at her, practically blazing with the heat of irritation that simmers inside of me.
Seconds pass, and she doesn’t say a word, the insolence of her silence slowly chipping away at my patience.
“Answer me!”
She flinches and lifts her chin in defiance. “What does it matter now?”
As I lurch toward her, she backs herself up, stumbling into the chair behind her, and when I set my hands at either side of her and lean in, the bite of cold steel hits the bottom of my chin.
The unyielding expression on her face, along with the blade at my throat, strums a fine and precarious thread inside of me. It awakens a sensation I haven’t felt in a very long time. One that has my dick ready to tear through my trousers. Chills race beneath my skin, my muscles burning with the urge to keep from kissing her right now. What I feel is beyond anger. Beyond the rush of adrenaline. It’s lust. Pure, black, poisonous lust.
“My family is in trouble. Someone told me of a group that can help me. Said you’d know about it. A secret group.”
Fuck. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do.” She looks away for only a second, perhaps a moment of uncertainty, before holding my stare again. “I think you’re a member of this group.”
My eye twitches at that, this bold and sa
ssy little shit who thinks she knows what she’s doing right now. There’s no way in hell an innocent thing like her knows about Schadenfreude. If she had a clue what it was, she surely wouldn’t be throwing herself at it. “A bit late for that now, don’t you think? Seeing as you not only stole from me, but have the balls to hold a blade to my throat.”
“I’m desperate.”
“Not desperate enough for the consequences, I can assure you.”
“This man threatened to kill my mother. He beat the hell out of my aunt and broke two of her fingers over the weekend. If I don’t come up with fifty grand, he’s going to kill both of them. I doubt he’ll leave any loose ends, which means he’ll come for me next.”
“Who is this man?”
“Franco Scar-something.”
Franco Scarpinato. Fucking hell. How the hell did she get tangled up with scumbag like him?
“What does he want with you?”
Still holding the blade to my neck, she licks her lips that look dry as a bone. “My mother’s boyfriend skipped town with his drugs. We don’t know where he is, so he’s trying to get the money out of us.”
Must be the guy Franco was bitching about when we met up. Somehow, my gaze lands on her lips again, and I could kick my own ass for wondering how they’d feel between my teeth. “How did you hear about this secret group?”
Again, she lowers her gaze, as if she has no intentions of telling me. Stubborn. I don’t know what it is about this girl, the way she makes me want to spank her bare ass while kissing her at the same time.
“How?”
“Giulia.” She deadpanned the name as if I might dispute her. “She said you might help me. The way you helped her.”
“Do you even know what it is you’re asking me for?”
“No. But I’d be willing to work for you for free. To pay off what I owe. As long as you’ll have me.”
I want to laugh at that, the naiveté beneath her brassiness, like a bad joke. I lean further into her, pressing against the blade at my throat. “I fuck Giulia. That’s how she repays me. Whenever I want. Wherever I want. Is that what you had in mind, Isa? To let me use you, however I see fit?”