Romance: The Billionaires Collection (Watched By A Billionaire, Stranded With A Billionaire, Caught By A Billionaire, Billionaire Stepbrother) (28 page)

Before the speech is over, I'll be back by Sage's side,
ready to depart with the spoils in my handbag.

That, of course, is all in principal, and is plan A.
There are contingencies in place for any obstacles I might face, such
as locked rooms or patrolling guards. The sort of things I couldn't
have fully known about or prepared for.

But right now, things are going to order, and we
continue to let the night pass by as the crowd gets more drunk, the
music gets a little louder, and the entire mansion grows with a
jovial spirit.

And then, just as Sage predicted, Morgan calls all the
guests to the main ballroom, where he proceeds to step in front of
everyone and prepare to give his speech.

Slowly, I slink toward the back, ready to put my plan
into motion, until something stops me right in my tracks. Puts a
dagger right to the heart of my plans.

Because for the first time tonight, I see Morgan's
wife-to-be as he drags her up onto the small stage with him. And
immediately, I see Sage twist around to look at me, his brow furrowed
with a look of concern.

Because around the woman's slender neck is the necklace
I'm here to swipe.

And I know right there and there that tonight, we won't
be getting our prize...

Chapter One

Holy fucking hell, she's wearing the damn necklace...

I pace forward, slipping back through the crowd, until
I'm back at Sage's side. Up on the stage, Morgan continues his
speech, his fiance by his side, the beautiful, shining, five million
dollar necklace draped around her collar.

Sage glances back as I near him, and we stand together,
bodies tensed, just watching Morgan continue to bore the crowd with
his oration. When he reaches a joke, and the congregation reward it
with a roar of undeserved laughter, I grip Sage's arm and bring his
eyes down to me.

“
She's wearing the necklace, Sage,” I whisper. “It's
over.”

He nods, calmly, and returns his gaze to the stage as
the laughter dies down. Moments later, another amusing anecdote is
offered and the crowd go into hysterics again. By this point, it's
clear that most have had a little too much champagne.

“
Then figure something else out,” comes Sage's voice
now, whispering sharply into my ear while trying to maintain a smile.

He then joins the laughter, not wanting to appear
distracted at all, and I wait for the next bout of applause to
provide my retort.

“
I don't have a contingency for this, Sage! I didn't
expect her to be wearing the damn thing.”

“
You're a professional. Figure something out.”

He begins clapping with everyone else, and for the rest
of the speech we both pretend to be fully engaged with it.

But I'm not.

Inside, I'm now working away feverishly to find a
solution to this problem. My MO is not to work on the fly, and
usually in this sort of scenario I'd pull the plug and figure out
another time and method to extract the prize. Or, if needs be, I'd
turn away from the entire job.

This time, though, I can't do that. Sage has me
cornered, and he needs me to do this tonight. And for me, the promise
of those two million dollar earrings is incredibly appealing.

Most likely, if I don't succeed, he'll retract that
offer...

So I begin thinking of a solution, my analytical mind
working through the options. And just as I'm making some headway, the
speech comes to an end, Sage turns to me and smiles casually, and he
walks me away from the gathered audience and into a quieter corridor.

“
Do you have a plan?” he asks hurriedly, his voice
low.

“
Part of one,” I say. “But I'm going to need your
help.”

He nods with an air of resolve.

“
What do you need?”

“
A distraction. I need you to bring Morgan and his
fiance to us. He'll do the introductions, no doubt, and I need you to
make a toast to the happy couple. Make sure she has a drink, and wait
for my signal.”

“
Which will be?”

“
A light cough. Then give the toast. Got it?”

“
Got it.”

We return to the main hall, the crowd now riding high on
the flood of alcohol constantly passing through the room. This crowd
of elite aristocrats is more jovial than I'd have expected. More
inclined to get down and get drunk and have a good time.

Certainly not the uptight, stuffy affair I'd
anticipated.

Across the room, lit with a warm lighting and filled
with the sound of relaxing classical music, I spot Morgan, doing the
rounds with his fiance.

“
There,” I say, taking Sage's arm.

We walk toward them, and catch them between greetings.
My eyes dart over their hands, and I note that both of their glasses
are freshly dry. I glance almost imperceptibly at Sage, who's
thankfully on the same page.

He winks at me to show he understands the look I'm
giving him.

“
Morgan, great speech, very amusing,” begins Sage,
cutting a line toward him. “And, finally, we get to meet your
beautiful bride to be. Congratulations to both of you.”

He takes the woman's hand, and kisses it gentlemanly.

“
Sage, meet my fiance Ellen. Ellen, this is Sage
Dalton, an old friend of mine, and this is his date for this
evening.” He turns his eyes to me. “Sorry, my dear, I didn't get
your name before...”

“
Kristen,” I say, putting on the slight New York
accent I've been adopting all night.

“
Nice to meet you both,” says Ellen, who's, frankly,
far too pretty and young to be with a man like Morgan.

She's tall, elegant, and slim like a supermodel. They
look quite the unusual couple, although I'd assume his billions of
dollars has something to do with her interest.

“
Ellen, you look stunning,” says Sage, laying on the
false charm, but doing so in a way that seems natural.

She smiles and half blushes under the gaze of this
handsome billionaire. Morgan, meanwhile, seems a little perturbed by
the reaction of his future wife.

Come on Sage, don't lose them...

“
I hope you two will be very happy,” continues Sage.
Then he glances at their hands purposefully, and lifts his fingers to
clip for a waiter.

A waiter arrives, and Sage promptly passes them each a
fresh glass of champagne.

And that's when I make my move.

As Sage turns to Morgan for a bit of friendly banter, I
take my opportunity to speak directly to Ellen.

“
And how did you two meet?” I ask, delivering the
typical question when meeting a new couple.

She turns to me, and we fix our gazes on each other.

“
We met through my father,” she says. “He's a
colleague of Morgan's.”

“
I see. Well, you make a lovely couple,” I say,
glancing over toward Morgan.

Her eyes follow mine, and I take my chance, quickly
reaching forward the short space between us and dropping a tiny pill
into her drink. One of a small store I keep hidden in a secret
compartment of my bag, intended to incapacitate potential hurdles to
my goal.

And Ellen is now
the
hurdle.

We turn back to each other, and she smiles.

“
Thank you, that's very sweet of you to say.”

In her drink, the pill dissolves quickly, and that's
when I take a sip of mine, pretend as if the bubbles have caught in
my throat, and cought lightly.

Sage hears the cue, and I immediately hear his voice
sounding.

“
I'd like to propose a toast.”

The words are music to my ears. He's only an amateur,
but he's playing his part well.

He lifts his glass, and I follow.

“
To the happy couple. May your marriage be long and
prosperous!”

He takes a sip, and so do I, and I watch as the host and
his fiance follow.

The amber liquid drifts down Ellen's neck, and a smile
grows on my face.

Phase one, done.

Chapter Two

“
Did it work? What did you even do?”

Morgan and Ellen have just left us, continuing to do the
rounds and accept toasts from various other couples or groups of
people around the room. Already, a sense of drunkenness is
descending, but for me the world is as clear as glass.

“
I spiked her drink,” I tell Sage. “Within about
ten minutes, she's going to be feeling rather sick...”

“
What else do you need from me?”

I shake my head.

“
Nothing. You've done well, Sage. Just continue your
night as if nothing's happening, I'll do the rest.”

I know, though, that this night is still far from over.
I've spiked her drink, but there are other hurdles to jump, and some
of that will be completely out of my control. Her actions, when she
begins to feel the effects of the drug, will determine my success.

So I watch her like a hawk, spying for any hint that
she's beginning to suffer. I do it furtively, glancing through the
crowd as we hang back. Sage speaks with others, and I continue with
my shy bit, but my mind is now completely taken by the girl of the
hour...and the drug working its way through her system.

Gradually, I see it taking effect. I watch her withdraw,
stop drinking her champagne, lift her hand to her mouth on occasion.
She blinks a little more forcefully, and I see a slightly change in
her complexion, turning a little more pallid.

It's happening...

I watch as Morgan's arm goes around her, and he whispers
in her ear. He's noticed it too, but both will have put it down to
the alcohol, and nothing more.

An elegant woman like her, though, won't want to make a
fuss. And she certainly won't want to let people know that she's
feeling ill. She'll retire to the bathroom in a bid to regain her
composure and try to settle her stomach in privacy.

Morgan, meanwhile, will stay in the hall, wanting to
continue hosting and not draw too much attention to his fiance's
absence.

And right now, it's all going like clockwork...

So I make my move. Before Ellen has even left her future
husband's side, I'm slinking through the crowd and leaving Sage
behind. I leave the hall, go out into the adjoining reception room,
and go and stand outside the door of the nearest bathroom.

Around me, a few people mingle away from the main party,
desiring a quieter place to chat and drink. I eye each of them
carefully, and note that none of them have taken any interest in me.

I wait, and hope that my hunch is correct.

It is.

Within only a minute of my arrival outside the bathroom,
Ellen appears, looking the worse for wear, her face growing quickly
pale and sweat starting to glean on her forehead.

“
Are you OK?” I ask.

She nods.

“
Fine, thank you, um, Kristen. I just...need the
bathroom.”

“
Oh, well, you can go before me if you want. This
one's occupied right now,” I lie.

“
That's OK...there are plenty of others.”

I laugh.

“
Sure, it's a big place I guess. Well, I'd rather not
get lost, so I'll just wait it out here!”

She laughs faintly, before scurrying off down the
corridor away from the party.

Perfect...

Now I turn into my head, and think of the layout of the
mansion. A place I know inside out from my obsessive studying of the
blueprints. I search in my mind's eye for the nearest bathroom, and
know that it's down the corridor, to the left, and through into
another wing of the house.

And that's exactly where she's going.

Another few surreptitious glances at the limited people
in the hall tells me that none are paying attention. They're mostly
looking the other way, and I count a couple of pairs of eyes that are
too far clouded by alcohol to notice anything I'm doing.

With that assurance, I turn my eyes down the corridor,
and follow Ellen.

Through the mansion I go, the sound of the party fading
in the distance, working my way around the corner and into another
wing. I move silently, knowing just where Ellen will have gone,
arriving outside the bathroom all alone.

The door is ajar, and through the gap I notice a pair of
legs, crumpled onto the floor, unmoving. I slowly push the door open,
and see that she's passed out already, her mouth dribbling with
vomit, her eyes shut and body limp.

I reach forward, and feel a slight pang of guilt as I
unclip the necklace and store it into a secret pouch in my handbag. I
check her airways to make sure that she's not going to choke on her
sick, and leave her lying there, sure to be found as soon as her
absence is noticed.