To Catch a Thief

by Nana Malone

  Max was never a particularly cluttered or messy person. That was the one good thing about him. He'd liked his things neat. I remembered when we were kids he used to talk about the future and the kind of house he was going to live in. What he was going to leave behind, the people he was going to leave behind. How he was going to be the next big thing and live somewhere white and clean and pristine.

  And we'd all thought there was no way.

  It was easy enough to rummage through his things. I knew I'd seen it. Max didn't keep very many personal things.

  Unless he sold it.

  It was entirely possible. Especially if he'd been here recently and needed cash for his little startup venture.

  Suddenly I was worried. Worried that I was chasing something that wasn't there. That I'd come all this way only to be disappointed. Like a lot of other times.

  Instead though, when I opened his top drawer where he normally kept his keys and things he found of value, there it was in a velvet box. I picked up the blue velvet and frowned down at the pendant. When I'd seen it years ago, I wanted to send it to her, but I hadn't been able to find her. Her old man made certain of that. But now, as a way to say I was sorry, I could give it back to her.

  Because as much as her presence threatened what I was trying to build for my life here, she didn't deserve what I'd said to her. So I was going to give this back to her and hope that it was at least the start of an apology. I wanted to be with her, wanted to be the reason for her happiness, the person she shared her sadness with, the one she laughed with, the one she yelled at. But I knew I couldn't have her. Not the way I wanted.

  But at the very least, I could say I was sorry.

  Fourteen

  Rian

  Ollie still hadn't come back to work. Not that I was paying attention or anything. Especially not after what he’d said to me. But I had noticed.

  You are in so deep with him.

  No I wasn't. I didn't care about him.

  Liar.

  Okay fine, maybe a little. But after the way he talked to me, the things he'd said, I knew better than to get my heart caught up in him.

  When I used my key to open the main door to the vestibule of my flat, I scooped up the mail that had been shoved through the slot. All my bills were paperless, and not many people knew I was here. There were a couple advertisements and one small box in plain wrapping. The return postal code looked like Peckham maybe, but I didn't know anyone in Peckham. I hadn't done any online shopping that would come from Peckham. Or maybe I had. I had ordered a book, but I didn't think there was a warehouse in Peckham.

  Maybe there was. Hell, what did I know? Once I was up the elevator and blissfully inside my apartment, I was ready to pass out. I'd been holding myself tense since the morning, waiting for Ollie to show up. I kept planning on telling him exactly what I thought of him and what he could do with his opinions of me and where he could shove all of his condemnation. Except there was also that pang of worry, that twist of regret. Why did I feel like this about him even after all these years? Worried. Even then I had known that his relationship with Max wasn't a good one. Sure, they were brothers, and on the surface they cared about each other. But the way Max would talk to him was almost like Ollie worked for him.

  Whenever Max would give him an order, I could see Ollie assessing it. A little twitch right by his eye. He didn't respect his brother. And hell, what did I know? Maybe he just had a twitch in his eye. But it was always there every time Max spoke to him, every time Max looked at me with anything less than respect. How had I not seen that Ollie looked at me with so much more than contempt?

  I slipped the mail on the counter, grabbed a pot and filled it with water for pasta, and then hung my keys where they belonged instead of leaving them on the counter.

  When I finally got to the mail, there was a letter from my favorite cosmetics company. They were having some kind of sale that was invite only. And then I moved on to the parcel in the plain wrapping.

  I eased it open and frowned. There was a simple note. The handwriting was familiar, but I wasn’t sure whose it was. The neat slanted script just said, "I'm sorry." But there was something at the bottom of the box. When I shook it out, a pendant fell into my palm. It was a heart with the infinity symbol wrapped around it. There were tiny diamonds woven into that infinity symbol. I knew that pendant well. My aunt had let me borrow it from her shop for my first ever date.

  And then she told me I could hold onto it a little bit longer if I was going to have more of these special occasions. And then Max had made me give it to him. He'd done it as a joke, saying that he was going to hold onto it until he knew exactly how I felt about him. He claimed he was going to have the latch fixed, and I'd let him keep it because I knew my aunt would be so disappointed if I told her the clasp had broken and I had almost lost it. But every time I asked him about it, he wouldn't give it back and wouldn't let me see it. Eventually, he tried to tell me the jeweler had lost it. Oh Jesus, what the fuck was this? He was sending it back to me now? But why?

  He must know you're talking to the Detective Inspector Jones.

  I shuddered in revulsion at the thought.

  If he was sending me this, there was something he wanted. What was that? I had to figure it out. He’d ruined my life once. Twice actually. That second time had been a real mind fuck, making me actually think I was crazy. What the fuck was this gift? Why would he send it now? It had to be DI Jones. This was something I should definitely talk to her about because I couldn’t let it go for too long.

  And have the police here laugh in your face, just as the police at home did?

  I wasn't going to be subjected to that anymore. I was done. And I wasn't going to let Max steal any more of my power.

  Oliver

  For the last three days, I’d tried to find a way to slip my trap. Problem was, the hangman was coming for me no matter what I did. It also didn’t matter that I had nothing to do with what got my brother into trouble. If he was actually in trouble.

  Of all the scenarios I’d gone through, one of the options was that Max was behind this and it was another manipulation since I’d refused to help him.

  But for my sister’s safety, I had to operate as if Rome and his thugs were deadly serious. Operate as if our brother had abandoned us to the wolves. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time.

  I could say no. I could gamble and see what happened. And if this was a scenario where I had the time to research my subject, I might consider that option. But there was no time for any of that. Max and Rome had me by the nuts. If I didn't say yes, it was going to blow back on my sister. These boys meant business. This wasn't a joke. This wasn't something I could put off. They were deadly serious. They meant for me to do their bidding. And one way or another, they were going to get me to do it. Whether I was willing or not.

  I had a plan. It was a shady plan, but it was the only one I had.

  There was a part of my brain that did not compute that I was actually going to follow through with this crazy wild thing. But did I have any other choice? Max had left me in this position, where I had no other option but to comply. If I didn’t, Rome was going to kill Tessa, so I had no other choice. I had to protect her. And it was possible they'd seen me leave Rian's place, so there was a good chance she was in danger too.

  I saw Rian first thing and had to steel myself to speak with her. I still remembered the feel of her fingers on my skin. Her murmured words of apology as she cleaned me up. And then I’d taken her kindness and shut her out.

  She didn't acknowledge me as she took her seat.

  Did you really expect her to after the way you treated her?

  Fair. I had been a twat. It wasn't her fault. I had been protecting her, but she didn't know that. That hurt look she’d given me was all too familiar. And I had been the cause of that. Yes, I knew that all of this was part of the game with Max. I did know that. It didn't matter though, because part of the game or not, people could get hurt. And there wasn't a d
amn thing I could do about it unless I made some very deliberate choices.

  This secret society you're joining, maybe your mates are right and you can ask them for help?

  As quickly as my brain even considered it, I rejected it. It was bullshit. I was not giving up the Elite. I was not giving up everything I’d worked so hard for. I couldn't. Asking them for help on this matter might cause my disqualification. I didn’t want that. At the same time, I couldn't put Tessa in danger, so I had to go with the best worst option. And it was going to cause a major motherfucking problem.

  "Good morning," I said in an attempt to draw her out.

  Rian lifted a brow. "Good morning?"

  "Yeah, good morning."

  She pursed her lips as she settled in and unlocked her computer. "Well, I had wondered which version of you I would get today, an apology or the pretense where you just acted like you weren't a royal dick. I also wondered if there would be explanations. Although, it’s the least likely that I expected.”

  Bloody brilliant. "I'm sorry. Obviously, I was in a state."

  "A state? Is that what we're calling it now?"

  I sighed. "Yes, a state. I was a fucking mess. You were trying to tell me what to do, and I didn't take it well. I know that and I'm sorry."

  "You're sorry?"

  I winced at the way she said that. "Yes, you know how apologies go."

  "Oh, I know how apologies are supposed to go. I just didn't actually ever expect to get one from you."

  I sighed. "Can we just bury the fucking hatchet, Rian?"

  "Okay, you want me to bury the hatchet? Sure, great. I can do that. Do you want to tell me what the fuck is going on then?"

  I clamped my jaw shut.

  "Right. So you're not going to tell me what is actually going on. You just expect me to be, oh I don't know, your verbal punching bag? I think I've already done that with one Wexler boy."

  "Bullshit. I’m not Max."

  "That's funny. You sure as fuck acted like Max."

  She wasn’t far off. "Jesus, really?"

  "What am I supposed to say, Ollie?"

  My gaze flickered to Olivia's closed door.

  "She's not here yet.” She raised her eyebrows at me. “Didn't you check your email? She and East have a meeting off site."

  I nodded. "Right. I just... I'm sorry."

  She shrugged. "If you say so."

  "Can we please just let it go? Look, I got you a coffee. I thought we'd start over." I waited for her to say something about the pendant, but she didn’t.

  "I'd love to start over, Oliver. But maybe there's too much water under the bridge or something. I don't know what's going on with you, but I know it has something to do with Max."

  I was too tired for this. "Rian, please, can you just leave it?"

  "Sure. We don't have to talk about him. Whatever you want. But I'm going to tell you right now, I know this version of you. The one that's scared and panicking and the one that's being controlled by him. I was that same person. So I know what it's like."

  "I know you think you do, but you don't. Just let it go."

  "Whatever. You’re not going to listen to me anyway."

  “Probably not.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Good talk.”

  She had a right to be miffed. I wasn’t making things easy. But one thing ate at me. She hadn’t mentioned the pendant. Had she gotten it? Did she care?

  Something was going on. None of the vendors were calling Rian back. I watched her make her third call of the morning.

  "Hi, this is Rian Beaumont again. So sorry to keep calling you. It's just the deposit hasn't been taken out of the bank account and I'm trying to figure out what's going on. I also am missing a confirmation for the aerialist. Can you please give me a call back at your earliest convenience?" And then she prattled her phone number and her extension. What was wrong?

  She made another call, "This is Rian Beaumont, just trying to once again get confirmation on our booking, if we got the cocktail servers, if you can please give me a call, I would appreciate it." Another rattling of the numbers. When she hung up and ran her hands through her hair which she'd worn straight today blow drying it sleek and slick.

  I preferred it curly. "Are you okay?"

  She lifted her brow. "Weren't you the one who said that I should mind my own business? You do the same. I have this handled."

  Fantastic. Way to get shut down. Except, isn't this what you wanted, both of you in your corners? Well, congratulations, you're getting what you want.

  Having struck out with Rian, my next stop was Bridge's office. He took one look at my face and lifted a brow. "There something you want to talk about?"

  I shook my head. "No. I'm good."

  "All right." He sat back and steepled his hands as his dark gaze focused on mine. "You need something?"

  "No. I'm just checking in since I haven't been here for a few days."

  "Right now, the only thing you need to do is work on the Kensington account and your studies, learn everything about the Elite. Learn as much as you can here."

  "Yeah, got it."

  He lifted a brow. "You know, if you’re in trouble, that's the point of the Elite. Having a whole brotherhood behind you."

  As much as I appreciated the idea of brotherhood and the idea that I wasn't alone once I became part of this organization, I knew better than to believe it. At the end of the day, everybody was out for themselves. And that's just how it was. Besides, something like this kind of trouble could disqualify me because I wasn’t part of the brotherhood yet. Once I was, I would finally be outside the clutches of my brother. He couldn't rain shit on me anymore. But I wasn't a member yet. As a neophyte, I'd gone over the bylaws a million times. This had to be handled. And by me.

  "All right, so work-wise, I think I'm going to let Rian Beaumont handle most of this stuff for the Monaco soft opening. It's mostly done, but she’s following up. And the majority of heavy lifting will be right before the event. I think she can handle it."

  Bridge mulled this over as he rubbed at his jaw. "She's smart. Having been in a few meetings with her, I think she's competent, but are you sure you want to do that?"

  "Well, you made it perfectly clear you want her to learn. Which means I'm also here to teach. She's on the project, and it's good hands-on learning."

  Bridge nodded. "If you clear it with Livy, it's fine by me."

  "Excellent."

  When I turned to leave, he called me back. "Oliver?"

  I turned slowly. "Yes, sir?"

  "Recognize that this isn't just about the Elite, right? If you have trouble, you do have an out."

  I nodded. "Yes, I understand. But you should see the other guy. Just a thing in a pub. No big deal."

  He looked like perhaps he didn't believe me, but he didn't call me on it, which was fine by me.

  When I went back to my desk, it seemed that Rian was in a meeting or something, because she wasn't at hers. I settled in, ready to pull together some kind of plan. I had two weeks to access Colton Cox. And I knew exactly where and exactly when. What I did not know was the how. The good thing was that getting into impossible places was sort of my specialty.

  That was why Max had been so upset when I'd stopped working with him. I planned things to the letter. Because the whole goal was to get what we were there for and for everyone to walk away. I had contingency plans upon contingency plans. And I was uniquely suited to get Rome what he wanted. Because as good as I was, I couldn't come up with a million quid in two weeks. Not without some kind of miracle, and since this was a Max fuck-up, I was in no kind of mood. I wasn't trying to call in favors or anything. I had to solve this one on my own to get rid of my brother once and for all. But I certainly wasn't going to involve Rian. I needed to keep her as far away from this as possible. I certainly wasn't going to involve my mates, because their only solution was to tell Bridge, Ben, and East. I knew how to handle this, to walk away from it completely unscathed. It was just going to take a little plann
ing.

  Fifteen

  Oliver

  I could feel Lila Kensington's gaze on my face. Her stare was blatant, inquisitive. She wanted to ask but wouldn’t let herself. It had already been difficult enough with everyone in the office staring at my face, whispering behind my back.

  I didn’t like people in my business. I liked it when people knew very little about me. It was safer that way. But now I was the topic of this conversation. The two days was all I could really take off. We had the Kensington thing, and only by being in the office would I be able to figure out a plan for Colton Cox. And that was my real concern.

  Lila sat back. "I know my father approved these, but I don't know what the budget looks like, and I'm not sold on the plan."

  Rian sputtered. "But they've already been approved. The budget's been allocated."

  Lila shook her head. "Well, considering it needs to have my approval, I'm not happy to hear that."

  Rian frowned, and I could tell that her brain was trying to assess the best way to go about this. But I already knew the best way to go about this. Lila Kensington was used to bullying people, pitching a fit, having attention, and getting her way. Well, I was sick of it.

  "I don't know what to tell you. I'm sorry you're unhappy, Lila. But we're operating under the rightful assumption that your father has the final word. All the line items you have crossed out, the singer, the aerialists and all those other things, those are things that your father personally requested, so perhaps we need a meeting with you and your father together. We need to iron this out because we are running out of time. And really, the end of this week is our last chance to get it nailed. So—"

  Lila pressed her lips together. "You don't have to worry. I've already canceled the aerialist and the jazz singer as well as the Moët champagne. We'll go with the cheaper brand. Also, your decoration budget is cut in half and—"