Page 8 of Scarlett Thief (Criminal Underground 2)

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Scarlett

Ilooked up at the house—estate,I mentally corrected myself—as the town car pulled up the drive. It had been waiting for me the second I'd landed. No Paris trip for me, and I was furious. The only consolation was the diamond choker I fingered at my throat. Most of what I stole went to my clients, but now and then I got to keep a little something from my work.At least that job hadn’t gone completely to hell, I noted with a scowl,though I didn’t exactly call being whisked away forcefully to some stupid dinner a win either.

When the car came to a slow stop in front of the double French doors at the head of the estate, I didn't even have time to open my door. A man was dispatched from the steps of the mansion and he hurried across the short space to pull open the back door, reaching in to offer me a hand.

Wealth.

Extravagance.

Power.

That's what this estate screamed to me, and with it, the worddangerblared bright red in my mind. Whoever this Mr. Black was, he knew a lot of things he shouldn't, and if I didn't like where tonight went, I'd leave here not just a thief—but a killer.

I hated murder, but for as long as I'd been running cons—well over ten years now—I knew enough to know that there was no honor among thieves. Each of them would sell a so-called friend out for the right price. If I had to kill the mysterious Mr. Black to keep my freedom, I would.

"Miss Scarlett." A tall, elderly man approached in a classic black and white suit that looked as though it had been pressed and put straight on—the lines cut his average figure and showed no signs of wear or tear. It seemed practically new. Gray hair framed the sides of his head as he bowed slightly. "We welcome you here at the Harlington Estate. My name is Garrett and I will be the attendant for this evening."

"Where is Mr. Black?" I asked casually.

"I'm afraid Mr. Black won't be joining you this evening, Miss Scarlett," Garrett said, adjusting the ornate silver tray that was clutched by his side. "His proxy, however, will."

"Proxy?" I gaped at him.The man isn't even here?Fury pounded through my veins.Of all the arrogant motherfucking—

"Mr. Gaven Belmonte," Garrett spoke, cutting off my thoughts midstream as a man appeared at the top of the staircase just inside the foyer and began to descend toward me.

My eyes rose and I stopped. A quiet, "Shit," left my lips.

"Hello, Scarlett."

"Gaven." I nodded delicately, but inside, I was rioting with fury. Gaven fucking Belmonte. Even with the gun strapped to my thigh, my feeling of safety just descended to the lowest level of Hell. If one of the most notorious hitmen in the North American continent was here playing proxy to Mr. Black, then this night had just taken a turn for the truly perilous. His reputation preceded him, but Gaven and I had crossed paths on many occasions. Each time I’d counted the seconds until I could walk away.

This will be no different.

My mind worked over everything I'd managed to uncover, though it wasn't much, as Gaven moved gracefully down the stairs toward me.

"You're late," he chided with a grin.

Handsome and deadly, that made up Belmonte perfectly. He held out his arm toward me as his Louis Vitto black oxfords hit the foyer floor. Without much of a choice, I took it and smiled.

"A lady is never late," I told him. "She arrives exactly when she wants to."

"You've been watching too many movies," he said with a laugh. “But before we begin, I know you just finished a job and probably haven’t had time to leave your weapons at home. Garrett, here, will hold them for you in our secured safe for the remainder of the evening. You can retrieve them before you leave. A hassle, but one for which I’m sure you understand the precaution.”

I pursed my lips but nodded.Dammit. Reaching as discreetly as possible, I pulled the weapons from their various locations and set them on the tray as I did. It was quiet in the foyer; the only noise was the random clinking of the knives and gun against the metal.

“Is that everything?” Gaven questioned. His tone was polite as if it was a normal conversation, but there was a hint of steel practicality daring me to disobey.

“Yes,” I reassured him, knowing all I had left on my person was my phone, and while I could use that as a weapon if I needed to, it wasn’t deadly. With a satisfied nod, Gaven led me past Garrett and farther into the mansion. Hardwood floors turned to lush burgundy carpet beneath my stilettos as we strode down a long elegant hallway. One side was encased completely in glass that overlooked what appeared to be a beautiful courtyard.

"We'll be dining out there this evening," Gaven said, leaning closer.

It was time to drop the act. Gaven and I weren't friends, but neither were we enemies. We had crossed paths before, and I hoped that if I showed him some honesty, he would provide the same.

"Gaven," I began, "why am I here?"

He straightened, but the conspiratorial smile on his face remained. "You'll see."

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