A Thief Revealed Read online

  A Thief Revealed

  International Thief Book One

  Heather Sunseri

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  Contents

  Also by Heather Sunseri

  A Note from Heather

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Enjoy the Story?

  Also by Heather Sunseri

  A Thief Consumed

  Chapter One

  About the Author

  Also by Heather Sunseri

  PAYNES CREEK THRILLERS

  Death is in the Details

  Truth is in the Darkness

  The Secret is in the Bones

  * * *

  THE IN DARKNESS SERIES

  Exposed in Darkness

  Cut in Darkness

  Covered in Darkness

  Shot in Darkness

  Desired in Darkness

  * * *

  SPECIAL IN DARKNESS STORY

  (Sequel to Cut in Darkness)

  Free to Newsletter Subscribers

  Protected in Darkness

  * * *

  THE INTERNATIONAL THIEF SERIES

  A Thief Revealed

  A Thief Consumed

  A Thief Obsessed

  * * *

  THE MINDSPEAK SERIES

  Mindspeak

  Mindsiege

  Mindsurge

  Tracked

  Deceived

  * * *

  THE EMERGE SERIES

  Emerge

  Uprising

  Renaissance

  The Meeting (A short story)

  A Thief Revealed

  Heather Sunseri

  https://heathersunseri.com

  * * *

  Copyright © 2018 Heather Sunseri

  eBook Edition

  Sun Publishing

  * * *

  This work is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review or article.

  A Note from Heather

  The International Thief series is an exciting work of my imagination — a romantic suspense novel that promises to keep you entertained until the very end.

  If I am a new author to you, or if you’re not currently a member of my special reader group, I would like to invite you to sign up for my exclusive newsletter at heathersunseri.com where I give readers access to free stories from me, as well as notifications anytime something new is released. These offerings are constantly changing, as I am constantly writing new books and series. But members of my reader group will hear anytime something new is offered.

  I hope you enjoy A Thief Revealed.

  * * *

  Happy Reading!

  * * *

  Heather

  Chapter One

  Lola

  There was never a perfect time to steal a piece of jewelry off someone’s finger, but tonight seemed as good a night as any. And I had the ring in my sight.

  I pretended to sip champagne as I watched Lady Sarah Somerset flirt with a man not much older than she was. She was wearing a long white satin gown, and a small tiara sparkled in her brunette hair. It was her twenty-first birthday, and her brother, the viscount of Somerset—whom everyone simply called Viscount—was throwing Sarah a birthday bash at his posh London home. Parties at Viscount’s home were usually reserved only for the social elite and Viscount’s more sophisticated “friends.” He had made exceptions tonight by inviting many of Sarah’s younger friends to mix with a select few of his own. Having met Viscount recently, and having proven I was worthy of his class level, I was able to secure an invitation with some help from a friend.

  Drunk from too much champagne, Sarah giggled while placing a manicured hand on the lapel of her young friend’s tuxedo jacket. Glittering brilliantly on her right ring finger was the jewel I had come for: a rare, red-violet two-and-a-half-carat diamond. It was surrounded by four heart-shaped white diamonds and perched inside an intricate design of perfectly polished platinum. The Gaft Diamond—named for the jeweler who originally acquired it and later designed the ring—was purchased by the earl of Somerset at auction for more than £2.6 million. He gave the ring to his daughter for her twenty-first birthday.

  The object of Sarah’s drunken affection—a physically buff man in his thirties sporting a goatee—leaned in and kissed her on the lips, then smiled at her in a sleazy way that made me want to punch him in the nose, despite the fact that I didn’t really care for Sarah. I still believed in girl power, however, and this despicable creep was clearly taking advantage of a young girl who had indulged in too many alcoholic beverages.

  The party was kicking into full swing inside Viscount’s spacious London home. As more guests arrived, crowding the main living room, I struggled to keep an eye on Sarah and the man she flirted with, so I moved closer.

  A server, dressed in the standard white blouse and black skirt and holding a tray of hors d’oeuvres, approached Sarah and the man. “May I offer you a miniature crab cake?” she asked in a thick, Northern British accent. Her nearly black hair was twisted into a messy bun on top of her head. She smiled, and a small scar above her lip twitched. Her tone was pleasant enough, but a look passed between her and the man that seemed… off.

  “No,” Lady Sarah said, loud enough to attract the attention of those around her. She turned her back on the server and faced the man in the tux again. As she did, she knocked into the server.

  The server stumbled backwards and lost her footing. The hors d’oeuvres tray flipped into the air, and crab cakes went flying. A black woman with thick red hair cut in a bob—it reminded me of one of Rhianna’s many hairstyles—shrieked as one of the crab cakes landed in her hair.

  Sarah whipped around and yelled at the poor server. “Watch what you’re doing!” The force of screaming at the girl made the drunken Sarah stumble slightly.

  The flirting man backed away, then turned and disappeared into the crowd.

  Strange, I thought.

  When Sarah realized that the man was gone, she yelled at the poor girl again. “I’ll have your job for this.” Then she stormed off.

  The other guests—members of the upper echelon of British society—went back to their conversation and expensive drinks, as if minor interruptions like this were a normal occurrence at these event
s. Only I stepped over to help the server. As I held out a hand, the girl looked up at me suspiciously, as if wondering whether this act of kindness came with a catch.

  “I’m just trying to help you up,” I said with a German accent, my chosen disguise for the evening. The accent, along with the navy chiffon gown and blond wig, disguised me as a wealthy member of a German family that the earl of Somerset had gotten to know recently. His knowledge of my fictional family had earned me invites to several parties thrown by Viscount in the last six months, all part of my plan to carry out a couple of jobs this week.

  The server slid her hand into mine and pulled herself up. “Thank you. What a bitch, that one is. I’d be just fine with her brother giving me the sack if I never have to serve her kind again.”

  I lifted both brows.

  “Oh. Sorry,” the girl said, embarrassed. “I guess you’re one of ‘her kind.’”

  I glanced down at my dress, which cost more than a thousand pounds, then waved her off. “I’d like to think I’m not exactly one of her kind.” I didn’t think of myself as a diva of aristocratic blood. Nor did I wear jewelry apt to catch the eye of a thief.

  I had a job to do—a job that had afforded me nice things in recent years, and a job that, if not done to the highest standards, would land me in prison. That was a place to which I had no intention of going.

  I glanced over my shoulder to see Lady Sarah climbing the stairs to the second floor. Then I smiled at the server again. “You going to be okay? Is there some place you can clean up?” Some sauce from the crab cakes was dripping down the front of her white shirt.

  A man held out the silver tray to her. “You seemed to have dropped something.” He spoke in English with a French accent. His blond hair framed his face and rested just above his shoulders. With his high cheekbones and bright blue eyes, he looked like a high-fashion model.

  Arias Bouvier.

  “Thank you.” The server took the tray, thanked me again, and walked off in the direction of Viscount’s kitchen.

  Arias took my hand and lifted it to his lips. “Bonsoir, mademoiselle.”

  “Have we met?” I asked, keeping with the German accent. I looked around to see if anyone was listening.

  “Oh. We’re going to pretend we don’t know each other?” He dropped my hand. “And shall I refer to you as Fräulein tonight?”

  I didn’t answer.

  He stepped closer and played with a blond curl hanging down the side of my face. “I like the hair. I nearly didn’t recognize you. You’re certainly the consummate professional when it comes to changing your appearance. Do I really need to ask why you’re here?”

  I narrowed my gaze and studied the humor in his eyes. Then, in American English, I asked through gritted teeth, “What do you want, Arias?”

  “Want? What makes you think I’m after something? I just saw a lady on the ground and thought I would offer a helping hand.” He looked around, confirming we were having a private conversation. “I know why you’re here. You know…” He met my eyes again. “We could work together on this job. I think we would both agree that this is bigger than one person.”

  “And what job is that?” I asked. He was obviously talking about a bigger job than what I was here to do tonight.

  Before he could answer, a woman sidled up next to him and placed a hand decked out in jewels on his forearm. “Arias, darling,” she purred. Her gown shimmered in gold and cream all the way to the floor. “There you are. I thought you were getting us drinks.”

  I started to back away, bowing my head slightly.

  “I was on my way, but I ran into a couple of damsels in distress.” Arias looked at me, as did his lady friend, making me pause. “You were about to tell me your name, Mademoiselle.”

  I looked uneasily at the woman, then back at Arias. “Kristina Schaeffler.”

  “Well, Kristina, I’d like you to meet Madame Roche.”

  “It’s nice to meet you both, but I need to visit the ladies’ room.”

  I turned on my heel and headed for the stairs. Arias’s date seemed unfazed that I rushed off the moment she appeared, and I was positive Arias didn’t care. One look at the jewels the woman was wearing, and I knew what he was up to tonight. In fact, he was likely also using the party as a way to case Viscount’s art collection for a future heist as well. Arias had always been a master of efficiency.

  But I had my own job to do tonight. I had a ring to steal.

  Tucked into a small pocket sewn into the sleeve of my dress was a near-exact replica of the ring that Lady Sarah was wearing that evening. Near-exact in that the jewels in my version of the ring were a combination of red-violet cubic zirconia and moissanite diamonds. My ring was created by a craftsman known for designing the best costume jewelry in Europe. His talent had come in handy many times in the past, and it did not come cheap. But the cost of this replica was a tiny fraction of the Gaft Diamond’s worth.

  I ventured up the grand staircase at the front of the house. As an approved guest of the party, no one questioned me walking about the home—an obvious flaw in Viscount’s security. At the top of the stairs, I stepped carefully down a long hallway, admiring Viscount’s artwork. I also admired the lasers discreetly placed throughout the hallway—part of Viscount’s main alarm system. But they had all been turned off for the party. Another flaw.

  As I passed a set of double doors, I paused. I so badly wished to open those doors to Viscount’s private gallery, home to his most prized possessions. The gallery had recently been fitted with a new, state-of-the-art, and virtually impenetrable security system. But the artwork in the gallery was not tonight’s assignment. Tonight’s assignment was to secure an invite to another party being held by Viscount next week. And if I could pick up a little trinket for my trouble along the way… then I would be another step closer to being done with this life.

  I knew from my research that when Viscount’s sister visited, she stayed in a bedroom at the far end of the hall. Just as I neared the doorway, she stumbled out.

  “Oh,” she said, surprised. “Who the fuck are you?”

  Charming. Sarah had turned out to be about as pleasant as a lion that hadn’t eaten in a week.

  I pretended to be shy. “I’m so sorry, Lady Sarah. Viscount said he would meet me at the top of the stairs. He was planning to show me his beautiful art collection.”

  She let her eyes travel the length of my body and back up, no doubt examining my navy dress and jewelry to see if I was worthy of her wealthy, aristocratic brother. “Uh-huh.”

  I noticed a smudge of mascara on her face. “Oh, dear, Lady Sarah. You have a…” I pointed to her face. “How do the British say… uh… smudge. Yes, a smudge of mascara on your face.” I stepped closer and grabbed her elbow to lead her back inside her room. “Allow me to help you.”

  I led her through the bedroom to the en-suite bathroom, and she didn’t stop me. She took one look in the bathroom mirror and said, “Oh, you’re right.” She eyed me. “Thank you. I didn’t catch your name?” She was slurring slightly.

  “Kristina Schaeffler.”

  Sarah opened a drawer and pulled out a compact of powder. She began dabbing at her face and rubbing the dark smudge away.

  “Do you mind if I wash my hands?” I said, gesturing toward one of the sinks. “I sloshed champagne on myself when that server fell.”

  “Of course. My brother really needs to look into hiring a competent catering company.”

  I slipped off my diamond ring and set it gently on the vanity between the two sinks. I shrugged at Sarah in the mirror. “I loathe getting soap or lotion in my rings.”

  “That’s a beautiful ring,” she said.

  “Thank you. It was a gift from my father. He passed away.”

  “I’m sorry.” She finished applying powder on her face, and then, as if giving me a gift, she, too, removed her ring and set it next to mine.

  “Oh, my!” I exclaimed. “Your ring is magnificent.”

  “Is it?” she
said, shrugging as if she had no idea that her ring was of value. “My father asked me not to wear it out tonight. Said I shouldn’t flaunt such extravagant items. But why have lovely jewels if we can’t wear them to parties with our friends?”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” I tried to keep my eyes on her, and not the rings, as I dried my hands.

  When she reached for a hand towel, I reached for our rings. I grabbed them both, and dropped hers on the bathroom rug. I quickly reached into the small pocket of my sleeve and pulled out the replacement. “Oh goodness,” I said, dropping to the floor and grabbing the Gaft Diamond. “Please forgive me, Lady.” I stood and handed her the replica. “I wasn’t paying attention.” I slowly slid my own diamond ring onto my right hand.

  Sarah stared at me as if trying to decide how to react. I think I had shocked her into silence.

  I was sure she was about to scream at me when, out of nowhere, she laughed. “You are the clumsiest woman alive.” She slid the ring onto her finger. She didn’t even look down at it. And even if she had, she wouldn’t have identified the fake. To the untrained eye, the ring I had commissioned was perfect. There was no way the socialite standing before me would discover that she’d just been robbed.