Page 61 of The San Marco Heist

“Talk to me, dammit,” said Scarlett. “Lucius?”

“I can’t see them. The guard’s—hold on.” I stumbled along the edge of the pool, careening into a lounge chair and helping it fall into the pool. That would get the guard’s attention. I didn’t have time to look though. I lurched twenty feet across the lawn, to the hedge, and threw my upper body forward into the bushes. It wasn’t likely anyone could hear me beyond those listening on my earpiece, but I made the loudest possible retching noise I could.

“Are you okay?” asked Will from his cushy little seat at his mom’s.

“Fine. Just trying to distract the security guy.” I made the retching noise again and stumbled into the bushes—spotting my backup goal—then staggered back, wiping a dramatic arm across my face. Wobbling, I swiveled to face the party again, gaze flicking toward the roof. “And it’s working. He’s focused on me.”

“Good job,” said Scarlett again.

I shuffled back to the patio next to the light well, obviously avoiding the pool deck. I craned my head up, doing my best to look like a drunk, unable to make any subtle movement. The guard stared intently at me, lips moving. Likely talking to his team. I waved enthusiastically at him, and he just shook his head, continuing in the direction he’d come from. “He’s on his way to the rear of the house. You’re clear again.”

If he’d dispatched someone to escort me out, surely he’d monitor me until they arrived. Hopefully, I was in the clear all around.

“I owe you a beer,” whispered Declan. “We’re in the stairwell.”

“So does Will,” I said.

“Why me?”

“Because when I wasn’t actually throwing up into the bushes, I found something you misplaced.”

“Then I owe you the beer!” squealed Brie, so loud I jerked.

A quiet laugh sounded in my earpiece, one I was fairly sure was Scarlett. “Focus, people.”

“Sorry! Going back on mute now!”

Time to mingle and make myself look like a guest until Jayce and Declan were done. But how long could I avoid Bruce White and his lusty glares?

Time to find my wife.

Chapter 25

Scarlett

Almosteverythinghadgoneaccording to plan so far. Malcolm and I were in. Jayce and Declan were in. Comms were up. Rav was close.

And Malcolm hadn’tonlysaved my thief and safecracker from being discovered, but he’d somehow found Will’s drone. Yeah, when this whole thing was over, he and I were going to have a moment. My core flip-flopped in anticipation, and I rubbed my thighs together to release a little of that energy, magnifying it instead.Down, girl.

I stood next to a table by the dance floor where I’d dropped my wrap. It was plenty warm under the tent, with all the bodies and the heaters. A few men still wore their jackets, but most were in vests or shirts, ties and collars undone. It looked like fun. Couples danced—some more scandalously than others—and people sang along with the loud music.

The girls and I hadn’t been out to a club in five years, since we started getting too old and too responsible. Husbands, children, and busy jobs. Now I attended parties regularly, but I was always working. No alcohol. No letting my hair down. No closing my eyes and simply feeling the music inside of me.

Instead… Hugo and Camilla Albrecht were chatting with a couple at my two o’clock. Violet Albrecht-Bancroft was at my eleven o’clock, dancing with her new father-in-law. Orlando Bancroft was at my ten o’clock, off the dance floor, and enjoying some laughs with friends around the bar.

My eyes were peeled for any sign of Bruce White. Although from the sounds of his discussion with Malcolm, he’d likely avoid me and head straight back to my fake husband as quickly as he could get the go-ahead from Hugo.

I held a champagne flute full of sparkling cider in front of me, swaying to the music. They were inside. Malcolm would be right, and the bookcase was a hidden door into the safe room. The ring would be there, Jayce would grab it, and we’d rescue Emmett.

Where we’d rescue him was another matter. The kidnappers hadn’t called since Saturday, so we had no instructions on where to go. Back to New York? Home? Or had they come to London for it?

No matter where it was, we had cars and a jet at the ready to go wherever we needed to.

We would get that damn ring and rescue my brother.

And then I could think about Malcolm.

My phone rang and I popped open my clutch. My stomach clenched. Unknown name. It was a few hours shy of one week from the last time I talked to the kidnappers, but they had Malcolm’s regular phone number, not mine. I placed my glass on the table and pulled out the phone, hitting the answer button that would dial in the entire team on mute. “Hello?”

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