The San Marco Heist: An Enemies to Lovers Heist (Reynolds Recoveries Book 1) by Janet Oppedisano

Author:Janet Oppedisano [Oppedisano, Janet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Just One Thread Publishing
Published: 2023-07-13T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

Scarlett

The backseat of the Bentley was buttery soft, camel-colored leather. The trim was actual wood and metal. Smooth ride, despite the added weight of the armored panels, it was the perfect vehicle for our bodyguard to chauffeur my bored billionaire husband and me to the wedding of our dear friends. Or our friends’ children, cousins, or besties, depending on who asked.

Malcolm had reached for my hand more than once on the drive, slipping into character too early. If I hadn’t been mentally reviewing every step, every mitigation, every risk of the evening, I might have accepted it as a kindness. But until my brain was fully into Eloise Stone, I couldn’t afford his distraction.

“We’re almost there,” said Rav from the front seat.

I took a deep breath. Eloise Stone. My interests included high fashion, parties, and travel. My husband, Lucius, was a successful investment banker who’d scored big with a few deals five years ago that almost landed him in jail for insider trading. But he had an excellent lawyer.

“Avoid any discussion of how we know the couple,” I muttered.

“I know,” said Malcolm. “Flutter my eyelashes and let you take the lead.”

There was a stifled laugh over the comms.

“I’d say we should do a mic check, but from your response, Brie, I can tell yours is working and so is Malcolm’s.”

“Sorry, Scar. All my systems are online, and I’m ready for any data feeds that come in. I’ll go on mute now.”

“Everyone else who is not going to giggle at us, please check in now.”

“Will’s here. My systems are all up and running. I’m also ready for any feeds that come in.”

“Declan’s magic fingers and magic brain are ready to go.”

Jayce laughed at her partner for the evening. “Jayce’s magic everything isn’t just ready, but raring to go.”

“This is Rav. I’m pulling the car into the driveway, making the circle at the end. Stopping. The man approaching the car is my friend who secured access. Let him open your door.”

“Stay safe, everyone,” I said.

As my door cracked open, Malcolm leaned over, kissed my cheek, and whispered, “Showtime, sugar butt.”

Eloise Stone. You’re Eloise Stone. And you’re flattered that your husband loves you so much. I took the security man’s hand and slid out of the car, my heels crunching on the pea gravel, tearing the gorgeous red soles to shreds. What a sin.

Malcolm climbed out after me and handed our invitations to the man. “Mr. and Mrs. Stone.”

The man—a behemoth who reminded me of Rav, with the look in his eyes like he knew fifty-three ways to kill you and hide your body where nobody would ever find it—consulted a tablet, nodded, and returned the invitations to Malcolm. “Dinner is just wrapping up now, but the cake will be out, and dancing will begin any minute.”

“Thank you,” I said, pulling my wrap tighter. With the sun already down and it only being early May, the evening was cool, with a dampness in the air. The house was brilliant, every light inside turned on, plus dozens of lights around the bushes and perimeter of the house.

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