Web of Lies
Page 48
I shower and change into a backless black halter dress that ties in a bow at my neck and has a split that comes all the way up my thigh. I pair it with a simple gold arm cuff and gold sandals. I know Gabriella will go all out. Eating in The Cipriani is like her own personal catwalk, and even Amelia will be wearing the latest fashion, but I prefer to dress for me and keep it simple. If I look good, people tend to turn a blind eye to the fact that my dress isn’t from the latest season. I pin my hair up messily. It’s too warm to worry about styling it perfectly and to be honest, I’m tired. I would try to bow out of tonight’s dinner, but it’s tradition. We need to be seen. We need to let everyone know we’ve arrived. I exhale slowly. This is the last time I’ll be doing this. I won’t be here next year. I’ll be free.
Chapter Five
Lucas
It’s a good thing Vivian isn’t my mark because otherwise I’d be in trouble. In the hotel reception, she sized me up before deciding I was a risk and walked away. She walked away. No one ever walks away from me. The smile or the smirk normally reels them in, but she had just arched an eyebrow and looked at me like I was a puzzle for a second before deciding I obviously wasn’t worth the hassle and leaving. If I wasn’t here on a job, I might go after that tantalizing challenge, but I was. Hawkeye90 wanted his twenty percent and I wanted that blue diamond ring. Focus, Lucas, focus.
I finally make my way to my hotel room, which is huge and very plush. It has an almost Greek feel to it with soft blues and whites throughout the suite. My room was paid for thanks to my Russian job, but my bank balance has taken a huge hit. The end result would be worth it if everything went to plan.
My phone pings and it’s an email from the man himself.
Dinner on the veranda at 7.
Don’t be late.
He’s usually more verbose with his emails, which makes me think this job is personal. He is drip-feeding me information and it makes me a little wary. If his judgment is going to be clouded because he’s too close to the situation, then I need to make a few assessments myself. I need a back-up plan. I lay on the bed and look a little closer into Vivian St. Clare while I waste an hour or so. She’s the only child of David St. Clare, a CEO who seems to be distantly related to the Mountbatten family. Essentially, she’s some sort of royalty, but so far down the pecking order that the St. Clare family had to make money in other ways. A trashy, click-bait type blog article catches my attention. Where is David St. Clare? is the title and a quick read through tells me that daddy dearest hasn’t been doing his business in Britain for a few months now. People are beginning to speculate, some saying he’s with his other business in Japan and others wonder if something more suspicious is going on. I make a mental note to have a closer look when I have free time. Maybe a few hacker friends of mine may have some answers. I send out a few emails. It couldn’t hurt to ask around. As a scam artist, I’ve made a few friends who can find out anything you want to know, but whether it’s legal is another thing. It’s always handy to have information. It’s practically as valuable as money these days. I check my watch. It’s almost time for dinner and I still need to change.
It’s too hot for a traditional suit, so I settle for a half cotton, half linen blend in navy with a cornflower blue shirt and a navy pocket square. I look like money and I’m not ashamed to say that I’m proud of that. I’m not picking pockets to buy food anymore.
I arrive ten minutes early so I can get a look at the veranda, it’s a large open eating area with canopies strung with lights and hurricane vases everywhere filled with golden sand and candles. It looks out onto the ocean and everything is basked in orange as the sun begins to set. Everything about this whole damn resort is romantic, and if I can’t get Gabriella to fall for me here, then there’s something wrong with the woman. I head to the bar and order a whiskey on the rocks, then I take a seat in an area with sofas and lanterns strung up above my head. I sit and watch. A few women smile at me, flirting, and a few men eye me up cautiously. It’s like judgment day here, everyone weighing in as they walk past me, my appearance and my clothes up for critique while they all try to work out who I am. Luckily, I sent out a few rumours on social media, so word should spread quite quickly on my new identity and how I’m here all alone.
Seven o’clock rolls by and there’s still no sign of the group Gabriella is with; I check my watch again. Why do rich people have no regard for the time? Not that they even knew I was waiting for them, but why did Hawkeye send me here at seven if no one else was going to be here? I down the rest of my drink in agitation, not something I usually do while I’m working.
“It is not my fault, Viv. Amelia startled me.” I hear Gabriella’s voice carry on in the breeze.
Vivian sounds dubious as she asks, “So you poured wine on her?”
I hear male voices snigger as three men walk past me, all in linen suits. They sit at a table near the veranda rail and begin ordering drinks.
“I jumped and knocked the glass!” Gabriella protests as she sashays by, gold dress clinging to every plastic curve and dip of her body and stops mid-thigh. Nothing is left to the imagination.
“Because she was wearing the same dress as you?” Vivian questions sarcastically. I can hear the disbelief in the tone of her voice.
“I wasn’t expecting it . . .” I can hear the pout even though I can’t see her face. “I didn’t do it deliberately, Amelia, sweetie. You know that, don’t you?”
Amelia shuffles to the table next, head bowed down and hands clutching her bag. She’s wearing a soft pink dress that falls to her knees and while it looks nice, I feel like her wearing the gold dress would have been a statement. She’s trying to break out of her shell, but Gabriella keeps pushing her down at every opportunity.
Next comes Vivian, and I smell her before I see her. Is that strange? The scent of cherry blossoms seems to linger in the air right before she strides by. Her back is completely exposed and I can’t help but look at the tanned skin. There’s not a bikini line in sight. She sunbathes naked and now I’m picturing it when I shouldn’t. Her golden wavy hair is piled up on her head and I want nothing more than to watch it tumble down her back in our reflection as I fuck her opposite a mirror. I order another drink from a passing waiter. I’m in deep shit if I can’t focus.
“It’s okay, Viv,” Amelia’s meek voice comes as they all sit and order drinks.
The glare Vivian gives Gabriella makes me bite on my lip before looking away. That girl is all anger and hate bundled up in a model package. She might just be my kind of crazy.
Chapter Six
Vivian
We haven’t even been here twenty-four hours and Gabriella is up to her usual shit. Heaven forbid Amelia actually look nicer than her. I bite my tongue as we order drinks, Amelia’s sad eyes pleading with me just to leave it. The oddball from the lobby is sitting on the sofas near the bar, alone again, and I feel like his eyes are glued to me as I accept my cocktail with a smile. Roman, Henry, and Spencer have sat on one side of the table while Amelia and Gabriella are with me on the other.
I’m not the only one who’s noticed him as Gabriella leans in and whispers, “Isn’t that James Wickham? I saw on Twitter that he’d be here.”
Wickham. The name sounds familiar, I think as I sip my drink quietly. Where have I heard it before?
“Who the fuck is James Wickham?” Roman says, taking a swig of his beer and looking over at the guy with curiosity. He’s wearing a cream shirt and cream linen trousers, hardly dressed up for someone who told me to dress to impress.
Gabriella shrugs, “I don’t know, I just saw it trending . . .”
Of course, she did. She’s like a radar for anything that’s trending or hot right now. She takes out her phone and begins taking selfies for her social media.
“Is he a celebrity?” Henry asks, like it’s a dirty word. Money is money, unless you actually earned it, which is ironic considering his father and grandfather had to work for their billions while Henry just spends it.
“Do you think he’s single?” Amelia asks. “I mean, if he has a dating app . . . it’s strange if he’s single, right?”
Gabriella laughs. “How much is he worth, Spence?”
“Always obsessed with the numbers, Brie.” Spencer grins. “His company just received fifteen million in venture investments.”
“For a dating app?” I say. There’s something about him that doesn’t seem right.
“Hey, us horny old businessmen are desperate okay.” Roman winks as his foot touches mine under the table.
I say nothing as Gabriella suggests we invite him to join us, because there’s nothing I can say. Having a bad feeling isn’t exactly a good excuse to ignore a rich up-and-coming, especially when Gabriella is grinning like the cat who got the cream. We all watch as she sways over to where he’s sitting and asks him to join us. I roll my eyes as she leans in to talk to him, cleavage right in his face. Roman catches my eye and chuckles. We all know what she’s like when she sees something new and shiny. He would be following her around like a puppy in love for the next six weeks or until she grew bored of him. At least, that’s normally how it would go down. This guy is giving me a different vibe. He’s dangerous and I don’t know why.
He joins us, pulling up a chair beside me, our arms brushing as he gets settled in and introduced to everyone.
“James Wickham,” he says, voice smooth as he shakes hands with Roman, then Henry and Spencer.
“Mr. Wickham,” I say as he shakes my hand next, amused. It’s finally hit me. He shares his name with Jane Austen’s bad boy Wickham, out to rob any unsuspecting woman he can. I wonder if that’s his game. Is that why he created the dating app? But then, by all accounts he has his own money. But then . . . by all accounts, so do I.
His eyes glint as he lets my hand drop, it’s like he’s daring me to call him out, but the words seem lodged in my throat. He kisses Gabriella’s hand like some sort of gentleman and then does the same for Amelia. They’re charmed instantly and it’s like watching a filter slide into place. James Wickham is the current interest, and nothing will dissuade them otherwise.
The food arrives and is beautiful as always. Henry talks about his latest conquests while Gabriella gives us the latest gossip. James even pitches in with some funny business tales about securing funding and touchy-feely investors’ wives. It’s a pleasant evening all around and for a moment, I wish it was real.
Needing some air, I excuse myself and go to the bar to order the next round of drinks instead of grabbing a passing waitress. I rest on the granite bar top, the stone cool against my clammy skin. I feel him behind me before he even opens his mouth.
“You should guard your face more,” he murmurs, leaning so that his lips brush against my earlobe. James Wickham is getting under my skin and I haven’t even been here a full twenty-four hours yet.
I pull away reluctantly. I’m intrigued, but the alarm bells are just too loud. “Excuse me?”
“When you’re not directly in front of them, the mask you wear drops.” His mouth tugs up into a smirk. “But there are always others watching.”
I straighten. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
There’s something about him that keeps drawing me in, but I don’t want to be a fly caught in his web. I saw the way his eyes lit up when he examined Gabriella, in particular the fat ruby she wore around her neck. He was up to something, and as long as he stayed out of my way, I didn’t care what his ploy was. I can feel the others watching us now from the table, and the way James has taken a step back tells me he’s aware of it too.
There’s a deep chuckle. “Yes, you do.”
Chapter Seven
Lucas
I don’t know why I came to the bar. I don’t know what I’m doing as I watch that mask slide right back into place. She’ll be on guard around me now. Fuck. Gabriella ‘Call me Brie’ calls out my name and asks me to get her another cocktail. I nod and smile. She was already boring me. We carry drinks back to the table without saying another word to each other. As we’re placing them down, Vivian stays standing.
“I think I got too much sun today. I’m just going to go back to my room.” She offers them a small smile, but Brie barely bats an eye and Henry doesn’t look up from his phone. Amelia gives her a concerned look which Vivian waves away and Spencer keeps his eyes glued to Henry. That was an unrequited crush if I ever saw one.
“I’ll walk you back,” Roman offers and she nods.
I say nothing. She was running away. I didn’t have her pegged as a coward, but it suited me better anyway. I had work to do.
“Roman, always a gentleman.” Gabriella laughs and I feel like she’s being sarcastic.
“It seems like he has a soft spot for Vivian,” I observe.
“Roman doesn’t like to be tied down. One is never enough, at least . . . that’s what I’ve heard.” Brie giggles, the drinks finally hitting her as we all move from the dining tables over to the sofas.
“Yeah, one of each!” Henry scoffs, finally joining in the conversation.
“And what’s wrong with that?” Spencer asks.
I raise a brow as I watch Spencer’s heart being crumpled in front of us. Christ, it was like some cheesy television programme. Is this really how the other half lives? Besides, I was of the ‘don’t knock it until you’ve tried it’ mentality, and I have tried it all. There’s something about seeing people for who they really are that just leaves gender to fall to the wayside. It’s all about what you can get, whether it be pleasure, security, money, or comfort. I chose wives and rich princesses simply because they were the easier targets and I’m all about the easiest route to the bank. That doesn’t mean I don’t have a few investment bankers and closeted celebrities in my history.
Henry plonks his beer bottle down on the table with a thud. “Don’t start, Radcliffe. You know my thoughts on Roman’s tastes.”
Deciding it was time to intervene, I say, “If he’s after Vivian, his tastes aren’t that bad.” I chuckle.
“Vivian is oblivious,” Amelia whispers. “She doesn’t realise that she’s the only girl he looks at like that.”
Tilting my head at the group of entitled rich people in front of me, I ask, “And no one has pointed it out to her?”
Amelia looks embarrassed by my question while Brie looks at me like I’m crazy.
“Why would we?” Brie asks as she nestles into my side, suggestively pushing her tits together as she cuddles into me.
Of course. Why risk Vivian St. Clare and Roman Huntington becoming the new powerhouse couple. Lord and Lady Huntington had a nice ring to it. Shame they were surrounded by vipers who would rather see them miserable. Well, it was none of my business.
I lean in and ask Brie some questions about herself. She’s half cut and the woman’s hobby is talking about herself, so I just let her chatter on. Slowly, the others fade away. Amelia heads to bed while Henry chases after a petite brunette who sits on the sofas next to us. Spencer, after giving the girl a filthy look, wanders off, finally leaving me alone with Gabriella Astor.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Brie slurs, trying to give me a sexy smile. “Do you want to see my room?”
A slow grin spreads across my face as I offer her my hand. I thought she’d never ask.
Brie is almost asleep against me in the elevator, her long eyelashes fluttering as she struggles with the drink and the fact that it’s almost two a.m. I guide her to her room. She gave me the room key down by the bar and I get us both inside with minimal fuss. I lay her down on the bed, barely having time to brush the hair away from her face before she lets out a soft snore. I remove her shoes and place them on the floor. She’ll think I was a complete gentleman in the morning when she wakes and finds herself still dressed and a glass of water by her bedside with a note.
I quic
kly look around the room. Stupid girl had been so desperate to look the best this evening that she hadn’t bothered unpacking properly or placing anything into the safe. I find a hard case and try the lock, not surprised to find it open. Gabriella really did have more money than sense.
There are several velvet boxes packaged inside the padded interior. Choosing one at random, I grab it and open it. A sapphire and diamond bracelet glints back at me, the blues reminding me of the ocean just outside the window. The next box reveals a ruby ring, matching the necklace she was wearing this evening. It looks like Gabriella brought a ruby collection with her, and that alone will fetch a pretty penny. A murmur from the bed has me putting everything back as I found it. Now was not the right time to take what I wanted, even though it would have been all too easy. There were more treasures waiting.
Chapter Eight
Vivian
It’s been two weeks of trying to avoid James like he’s contagious, but unfortunately for me, Brie is determined to make him her little pet. It’s not that I don’t like him, it’s that I don’t trust myself around him. He sees too much. He’s too intense. The way he watches me makes my skin burn and I can’t think clearly when he’s around me. It’s like being torn between feeling safe with Roman and in danger with James. I want both and it’s messing with my head.