Page 71 of Prettiest Little Thief
“Oh my god. That man hasn’t done laundry in over a year.” Monroe sat up fully just as my men entered the front seats.
I leaned in and kissed her. “You did amazing, wife.”
“I think I need some snacks or cake for that one.”
“Anything you want.”
“Anything?” She arched an eyebrow.
“Anything.”
“Okay, but after we find out what’s inside this bad boy.” She knocked on the wooden chest in her lap.
***
Monroe
I chewed on my thumbnail as Fox, Lucas, and Evan stood around me. “What if I grabbed the wrong box? It didn’t seem like this would be something your sister’s husband would be willing to give his wife up for.”
“You put too much faith in my brother-in-law.” Lucas quirked a sandy brow at me.
“What if he got rid of Anastasia’s real chest? What will we do then?” I asked.
“Only one way to find out,” Fox chimed in as he pulled out the key necklace and handed it to Lucas.
When Lucas wrapped his fingers around the metal, he glanced down at me. “Do you want to do the honors?” He gestured to the key he held in his hand.
“Little ol’ me?” I fake gasped and pressed a hand to my chest, pretending to be flattered.
The grin on Lucas’s face was one of amusement as he passed off the priceless item to me. I strode to the desk, lifting the key to the lock. Only… I paused.
What if this was a fluke?
What if we had come all this way for Lucas’s mission to be a failure?
Then what?
I took a deep breath. This was the only way to find out and calm the demon of anxiety clawing and climbing inside of me. I knew what would happen if this was a disaster. We would get through it. Together. Because even though Lucas and I had this arrangement, and I could leave regardless of the outcome, I would stay by his side. As his friend. His wife. If he would have me.
I notched the key into the lock, and with slight resistance, turned it.
Click. Click.
The three of them moved closer, the warmth of their bodies seeping into my back as we all leaned forward.
With a creak, I lifted the lid and peered inside.
Stacks of letters were neatly folded, a wax seal broken on each of them. A tanned, leather-bound journal sat next to them. I reached inside—surely, this couldn’t be everything. There must be more at the bottom.
With gentle hands, I pulled the items out and placed them on the table, the light from the window bathing the inside of the box in sunlight. Glancing inside again, I reached in and withdrew a silver oval locket that was tucked inside a pocket of the velvet trim. Opening the small latch on the side, a portrait of a man with long dark hair and a thick mustache, collar engulfed in thick furs, was painted on the inside.
“This must be a picture of her lover,” I said.
Fox and Evan, who were both currently sifting through the letters, stopped their inspection and peered over my shoulder.
“Was there anything else?” Evan asked.
I shook my head. “Nothing. This is what Sarah’s husband wants?” A frown creased my brow.
