Ryan rolled back his shoulders, then he began to descend the staircase.
Chapter Four
She’d disengaged the alarm. The guards at the gallery door had been distracted, thanks to some very flirtatious catering staff members that Simone had paid handsomely. She’d bribed them long before arriving at the event. It paid to plot in advance.
Slipping inside the ballroom once again was a piece of cake, particularly since Hugo and Alexei were no longer the guards on duty. They’d been replaced by fresh guards, and those guards were way easier to distract.
One of the new guards was currently making out with a blonde while the second guard had been lured to the side by a redhead. Seriously, Frederick should look into better personnel. These men were practically amateurs.
But the poorly trained guards were good for her. Her win. Frederick’s mistake.
She picked the lock in a blink, hiding the action behind the voluminous skirt she wore, and then she slipped in and, because of her handy-dandy stolen remote, she didn’t have to worry about shrieking alarms interrupting her work.
And, bonus, she’d made a pitstop on her way to the gallery. The two video cameras in the gallery had gotten their power cut. Yes, she knew how to avoid the cameras, and she could have done so, but she’d had the time, so why not just be extra safe and guarantee zero footage of her little adventure?
Simone went straight to her prize. The pearl and ruby broach and matching earrings were hardly the most valuable items in the collection. But they were her goals. A certain individual would be very, very grateful to receive them back.
She owed that individual a great deal, and the return of these pieces would go a long way toward paying the debt.
Her gaze darted around the gallery. So many wonderful works of art. So many tempting treasures. Not for her, though. Only the broach and the earrings were for her. Her hand reached for the waiting broach. Time for these jewels to return home.
“You should stop, now.” A low, gravelly voice. One with a heavy Russian accent. A voice that came from the right. From behind the long, billowing curtains that lined the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Her head had snapped toward those curtains as soon as she heard the distinct voice.
And, sure enough, Alexei shoved the curtains aside as he stepped forward, with a gun gripped in his hand. For the second time that night, Alexei advanced and pointed a gun right at her.
The man was such a pain in her ass.
Since her head was turned toward him, she angled her body in his direction, too, and when she made that angle, Simone happened to pick up the broach and the earrings. Her hand dipped into one of the many pockets of her dress. The delightful pockets in the gown’s skirt were the sole reason she’d been drawn to the costume dress in the first place.
Simone adored a dress with pockets. So useful.
“Hands up!” Alexei barked.
She lifted her hands up. Both hands were now empty, so why not lift them up? “I think there is some sort of mistake here.”
“Your mistake.” Spittle flew from his mouth as he snarled those words. Then he was lurching forward.
She tensed.
The gun shoved into her face. That was not a very polite response.
Simone shifted one of her hands, and she pressed her index finger to the barrel of the gun as she carefully pointed it a few inches away from her face. Not like she wanted a blast between her eyes. Or, anywhere on her, actually. “I can explain.”
The gun immediately aimed between her eyes again.
“Get Frederick!” she urged him. “He’s the one who told me to come back inside. We were supposed to meet here. Frederick is?—”
“The one who told me to wait when he realized his alarm control had been stolen.”
Oh, damn. She’d truly thought it would take him longer to notice that bit of theft.
“But Frederick thought Ryan Quinn would be the one to sneak in here like a rat.” More spittle. Especially on the rat part of the sentence.
Her shoulders stiffened. “I do not like having a gun shoved in my face.”
“Then you should not be a dirty thief.” His accent hit hard on dirty.
