Page 31 of Lost to Thievery
“When will they hit the museum then?” Marshall wondered. “Will we make it in time?”
“If they’re staking it out now, it won’t be for at least another two months. Grayson likes to stake out places long before the heist. Police don’t usually review more than two months of camera footage. But if they do, it’s not done very thoroughly going that far back. And that isifthat footage hasn’t been deleted from the drives already. You won’t find them in any camera footage close to the heist.”
“So your master thief boyfriend just casually told you all his trade secrets over brunch then?” Liam squinted at me.
I sighed. “We were in Paris sightseeing… and we figured out how to steal the Mona Lisa. Just for fun. It wouldn’t even be difficult since no one expects someone to have the audacity,” I added. “That’s how I know about the security footage thing. And he’snotmy boyfriend.”
Owen sighed. “Syntax, please put the Mona Lisa on your watchlist too.”
“You’re wasting your time. He won’t take it. Some things are sacred. Even to him,” I repeated Grayson’s words from a previous life.
No one listened anyway, Syntax furiously typing on her keyboard.
“Will they be back? Or did we just lose our window of opportunity?” Owen asked me again.
I chewed on my lower lip, contemplating it. “They might go back to the museum. Grayson is thorough.” That little voice inside me agreed. This was not the last I would see of Grayson.
“Syntax, I’m going to need plans for that building, and the surrounding ones.” Marshall straightened, ready for action.
“Already on it,” she quipped, typing away.
“And please see if you can trace them from the museum. If we can find out where they’re staying, we can take them in their fucking sleep,” Owen demanded, then looked to me. “You mentioned Grayson doesn’t sleep much? What’s our best window of opportunity?”
“I’d say between twelve and two.”
“Thank you, Ava.” Owen looked at me sincerely.
I nodded, then stood and moved to a row farther away, out of the team’s way, so they could plan their takedown. I stared out the small window to the clouds beneath us. I’d been swept up in their excitement. Did I even want to help the FBI catch the Apparitions? I’d only taken the plea deal because I was angry and wanted to make them pay. Then, I chased after them like a lost puppy, hoping they’d take me back once they saw me.
Now, I just wanted to piece my broken life back together and forget the three of them ever existed. To scratch out their names and faces from my mind and heart. They didn’t deserve a place there anyway.
I lowered my forehead to the cold glass and closed my eyes. Did I truly believe that? Grayson might have broken me beyondrepair, but that was only because he showed me something so perfect it was magical. If you fly so high, of course, the fall would hurt. Andfuck, did it hurt.
At least I could breathe now. The worst was over.
And maybe I would always carry this pain with me, this emptiness. Maybe I would be the lonely old lady in her garden that mothers point out to their daughters, warning them against giving their souls to devils. The cautionary tale for girls to love first with their heads, before unleashing their hearts. And maybe that was the price I would pay for daring to feel so intensely, somuch—a life of loneliness. Because I have no soul left to give to another. Waiting and wandering around my garden, hoping deep down—so deep, that I don’t even admit it to myself—that the devil might one day return to me.
We landed and headed to our hotel. Everyone was still busy planning and trying to find where the Apparitions were staying. All the hotels Grayson would usually pick, came up short. And that would mean the Apparitions had their own place in Florence, or nearby. Or maybe Grayson had changed his M.O. completely. Because I knew too much.
We finally made it to our hotel, got our bedroom keys and headed to a boardroom to meet with three Interpol agents who would assist Owen. One of the agents, a good-looking brunette, seemed to know Owen intimately, by the glances she gave him. After another hour, the agents started drifting off to their rooms, tired and cranky.
I excused myself as well, but Owen caught up to me as I headed towards the elevator.
“So what will it be? A cocktail at the bar or room service and a movie?” Owen grinned at me, sheepishly, falling into step beside me. “My treat. As an apology for doing exactly what I said I wouldn’t.”
I smiled up at him. “You don’t have to, Owen. We’re good.”
Owen opened his mouth to object, but was interrupted by the clerk from reception, waving us down, walking briskly towards us, looking flustered.
“Scusi, Miss Beaumont! Miss Beaumont!” he called.
We stopped and waited for him to catch up to us. He sighed in relief and straightened his suit. I could see he was an anxious person, flustered by the smallest hiccup, so I gave him a bright smile, hoping it would calm him.
“Apologies, Miss Beaumont, but we seem to have some plumbing issues in your room. We would like to give you another room, if you would be so gracious. We’ve already transferred your bag there.”
“That’s not a problem. Thank you,” I said as I fished the room card from my jean pocket.
“Ah, how gracious of you. We have upgraded you to a royal suite.” The clerk winked at me. “The Princess Diana. On the top floor.Beautifulview.”
