Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
My research into the man informed me he doesn’t spend a lot of time here, preferring his apartment inside the Paris city limits, but the massive number of invites sent out for tonight’s gala superseded the room available at his other place.
Sin looks like she belongs here. While I can certainly put on the trappings of an expensive gray suit with a subtle checked pattern and drive a rented Maserati out to Mercier’s estate, I still stand out like a sore thumb. But Sin has that regal bearing in the way she walks that screams, “I belong here.”
It’s certainly not her background as she grew up lower class just as I had, but years of being someone she’s not that allows her to become a chameleon to fit it… and she does it to perfection.
I wholeheartedly approve of the dress she settled on. Fits her body like a glove and is elegant in its sapphire-blue simplicity. Nothing else is needed when confronted with the perfection of her face and that wild halo of hair that speaks not only as a nod to her culture, but also to the fact she’s confident in who she is.
After we leave the car with a valet, she loosely tucks her hand inside the crook of my elbow as we walk up to the massive stone front porch. There are many others arriving as fashionably late as we are. The front door is open and a uniformed butler is there to greet us, directing us up a grand staircase where we hear soft strains of music floating from the ballroom upstairs.
“Nothing on overt display,” Sin murmurs from the side of her mouth as we stroll up the stairs.
She’s talking about stolen items such as art or antiques. Mercier’s not bold enough to have something displayed for someone else who might be sophisticated enough to spot a hot piece, but this isn’t a surprise. He’s not stupid or reckless. I suspect like anyone who steals anything exceedingly priceless, Mercier uses the items for private enjoyment only.
We finally reach the ballroom, which easily holds over two hundred people. There’s an orchestra on one end, dancers in the middle, and tables set up on the other. A wide pass through into another large room looks to contain tables set with elegant silver trays of food. Waiters circulate with champagne, and there’s an open bar along one wall.
We spend an hour mingling and tasting fancy hors d’oeuvres.
We sip our drinks slowly so we can maintain clear heads, because as much as Mercier assured Sin and I this is nothing but a relaxing evening meant to reward us for our hard work, we’re still on the clock—our clock.
Our goal is to learn everything we can about Mercier while here, with the hope we’ll hear something about the big heist he has planned.
As of yet, we haven’t even laid eyes on our host. For all we know, he’s not even at his own party, which wouldn’t surprise me. The man is an eccentric who plays by his own rules.
“Want to try to scout the place?” I ask Sin.
She nods, placing her half-empty glass of prosecco on an empty tray. I deposit my tumbler of vodka beside it.
So far, we’ve made the security cameras in each room, as well as the exterior of the chateau. Pretty typical given the size of the house and its contents. While we haven’t spotted any stolen art, there are still plenty of expensive pieces throughout.
I snicker, imagining the Renoir we stole hanging over Mercier’s bidet, so only he can enjoy it.
“What’s so amusing?” Sin drawls as she once again grips the inside of my elbow.
“Oh, just imagining the Renoir in Mercier’s bathroom so he can stare at it every time he has to take a shit,” I say.
Snorting, she squeezes my arm as we elegantly descend the staircase. We smile and nod at people as if we know them. Polite, upper-crust gestures, and barely a soul here has a clue we’re common criminals.
On the first floor, still more people come in and out of the party. There’s a massive library and a formal music room where others mingle. All protected by motion-activated security cameras.
It doesn’t mean anything from our standpoint since we aren’t casing this place. But anything we can glean from the way he lives could help us figure out how to come out of this without ending up dead or busted by the cops.
It’s easy to discern he lives lavishly, spends his money on ridiculously expensive and pretty things, and he’s security conscious.
Oh, and the fact he’s the one who shot Neal rather than William says Mercier is vicious. He doesn’t mind doing his own dirty work if he feels someone’s actions warrant it.
We attempt to go through a door that appears to lead to the basement, but we’re immediately stopped by a security guard who seems to materialize out of nowhere.