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I slipped inside with the crowd without suspicion and found myself in the crowded entryway. Standing tables were erected for couples to enjoy their flutes of champagne and the appetizers passed around. It wasn’t hard to spot Grave, his handsome face etched into a charming smile while a pretty woman hung on his arm.
She was a piss-poor replacement for Camille.
I felt myself get hard when I imagined going home to Camille, naked except for the necklace I fetched for her. I’d fuck her senseless, knowing Grave was thinking about the same thing as he screwed his unremarkable date.
The crowd was distracted by the energy of the party, so the staircase was unwatched. I knew there would be another set of stairs toward the back of the house, so I walked down a few hallways until I found the stairs used by the servants. The music dimmed the farther I ventured into the enormous house, and soon I could hear my own footsteps again. With my hand on the rail, I moved to the second floor and then the third.
But then I came across trouble.
Grave had some security guys posted at the top of the stairs.
Seemed to learn from his previous mistakes.
I kept going, acting like I belonged there.
Both immediately barred the way for me to progress. “The party is downstairs.”
“There’s a dozen people in line for the bathroom. You expect me to wait that long?”
They continued to stand there, and just when they turned to glance at each other, I kicked one hard in the knee then punched the other so hard he hit the floor. Their groans were masked by the noise of the party, so no one heard the commotion. The one with the broken knee was still conscious and reaching for his radio, so I slammed my foot into his face and put him to sleep.
Now it was quiet, the third floor vacant. The staff was off the floor because they were too busy running the party downstairs, so I headed straight to his bedroom without interference.
Dark furniture. A four-poster bed. An enormous mantel around the fireplace. I could feel his presence without him being in the room. Camille told me her necklace was stored in his closet and protected by an alarm. I walked through the double doors and found the glass over the case of jewelry that housed his collection of watches. Her necklace was easy to spot because it was made of iridescent pearls and made me think of her right away. A little red light flashed from inside the case, a warning of what would happen once my fist broke the glass. I took out my gun and smashed into the case, glass shattering everywhere.
The alarm immediately sounded.
I pocketed the necklace and took my time walking out of there.
Instead of taking the stairs, I stepped into a guest bedroom and pressed my back to the wall. Several sets of feet ran up the stairs and exploded into Grave’s bedroom. That was when I moved back into the hallway and took the stairs down to the bottom floor.
Guests were all looking around and shouting over the sound of the alarm. The musicians stopped their music because nothing could be heard over the obnoxious beeping. Not only did I take his leverage against Camille, but I also ruined his stupid little party.
I pushed through the crowd and headed out the front door without delay.
“Cauldron.”
I walked up to the valet and extended my ticket. “Bring my car around.”
The valet immediately took off.
I turned around to face Grave, my hands sitting in my pockets.
He was so livid that his face was red and blotchy, like he’d been in the gym instead of a cocktail party. When he marched up to me, it looked like he wanted to hit me but found the restraint not to. The fuming stare continued, as if there were no words to describe the betrayal.
We stared at each other until the valet showed up with my car.
“Nice party.” I walked around to the driver’s door so I could take off. “It’s a shame I couldn’t stay longer.”
THIRTY-ONE
CAMILLE
I left my bedroom door open so I could hear him down the hallway. I sat on the couch, the TV on low, another crumpled-up note in the wastebin. It was long past dinnertime, and as the hours trickled by, I wondered when he’d return. He had to take his plane back from Paris, so I really had no idea when he’d walk in.
I heard his footsteps on the stairs a moment later.
His dress shoes tapped against the hardwood, and then the steps turned muffled once they reached the long runner down the hallway.
I jumped off the couch and hurried to the open door.
His tie was undone and in his closed fist, and the top buttons of his shirt were already undone like he couldn’t wait to get the tuxedo off. The top of his chest was revealed, tight with muscle. His eyes were focused on the phone in his hand, oblivious to me standing there. He stopped to type out a message before he pocketed it and lifted his gaze.
