Page 11 of Cozen

“She took his name.”

Cozen straightened a bit on the chair. “Really? Your family takes it that far?”

“Beyond, actually,” Pearl murmured. “Even a woman’s children must keep the family name. Her children didn’t have our name, either. She knew the rules, and what would happen. I hadn’t seen her in almost two decades before she died. No one in our family had.”

Cozen’s gaze traveled to the photograph again as Pearl started flipping through the folder’s contents. “Do you regret not closing the distance?”

“Astors burn bridges. We do not fix them.”

Well, then …

Pearl flipped over another photograph, and handed it to Cozen. She took it, and quickly found herself entranced by the beautiful square-cut ruby set atop a woven gold band. The ruby was at least fifteen carats in size. It did not look like anything remotely close to a modern piece.

“My great-grandmother brought that ring over from Germany,” Pearl said, her gaze traveling to the nasty white cat waddling its way back to their spot. “It has been through a great deal—seen more than most. Wars, and immigration. Poverty, and wealth. It was once sold by my great-grandmother to pay for her husband’s court charges, and used again as bribery a few decades later by my grandmother when her husband found himself in trouble with the law.”

“It has great history.”

To say the least …

Cozen wanted to physically get her hands on the actual piece just to touch it.

“My mother chose to give Anabelle the ruby as a piece to pass on. It’s not uncommon in our family to take pieces of our history, and give them to another Astor to keep it moving through the generations.”

Cozen nodded. “Sure. I take it, you want this ring back, now.”

“I wanted it back the day Anabelle married Jett. I wanted it back before then. She knew the rules.”

The cold hardness in Pearl’s old voice took Cozen by surprise. She glanced up from the photograph to find Pearl’s hissy cat had climbed back into the woman’s lap. The Persian all but glared with its strange ice-blue eyes in Cozen’s direction.

“She’s dead, though,” Cozen pointed out.

“Jett—her husband—still has the ring.”

Cozen’s brow lifted. “And how do you know this?”

“He taunted us with it when we asked to have it returned.”

“Taunted you,” she echoed.

“Yes, with some pretty little thing he paid to have on his arm during a charity event he knew Rem and his wife would be attending with Fourth. It was quite a show. Lucky my great-grandson didn’t slice his throat right then and there.”

Pearl sighed heavily, and waved a hand again. “Fourth and his father handled it well, at the time. I cannot say I would have done the same.”

“It’s never good to make a scene.”

“Mmm, no.” Pearl’s lips flattened into a grim line. “I want my family’s property returned. Everything that belongs to the Astors must come back to the Astors.”

“Another rule?” Cozen asked.

“No, a way of life.” Pearl looked to Cozen. “How long do you think it will take for you to pull this off?”

“Every heist is a little different. Sometimes, I can get one done quicker than others. It really all depends on what a mark does and how easily accessible the item is once I get into their life. I assume Ace approached me for a reason …”

“Yes,” Pearl murmured, “because our family is about to make major moves in the criminal world, and we cannot afford to cause more uproar elsewhere when we might need to return in that direction for help later.”

Huh.

“And so I am …?”