I know release date is only two days away, but I'm offering a sneak peek at the first couple pages . . .
Chapter One
As I looked at the two-story De Luca family home, I thought of all the people here today who could easily find their wallets missing. I couldn't help it. Being a thief for so long, thoughts like these defined me, etched in my memory like a part of my DNA. Thievery was bound to me for life. These guests would go a long time before they noticed anything was missing, all of them sidetracked by the festivities happening on this joyous day.
I've been a thief since I was eight years old. Stealing at such a young age was a way of survival. My mother cared more about her next fix than she cared about me. If she couldn't get her hands on drugs, alcohol was the next best thing. There was never enough money for food, clothing, necessities, and definitely not toys or books. Stealing was a way to make sure I got fed and the lights usually stayed on, not that I decided where the money was spent. Not once.
The past was something I preferred to keep well hidden, butwhen my limousine pulled up through the eight-foot tall black iron gates of Regan De Luca's family's estate just north of LosAngeles, I couldn't help but to think of how out of place I felt. My life was very different now, at twenty-four, than it was when I was eight. I wasn't poor, but I wasn't wealthy. A highly skilled thief, such as myself, could easily target this house, ifit weren't for the security guards.
Shit, I thought, looking around the perimeter of the frontlawn. No one's going to get past this security. Not today. The driveway was long, under thick shady trees where cars lined the perfectly manicured lawn, attesting to the importance o fthe day. There were at least ten guards at the gates, and several trying not to be noticed. But I noticed. I learned at a young age to watch for the men who stood in the shadows, the way they held their hands loose and ready, and the way their heads tracked your movement even if you couldn't see their eyes under dark glasses.
Growing up in one of the poorest parts of Las Vegas, I couldn't remember ever being invited to a house of this size. I'd never owned a house, and given my history and my current job, I wouldn't. And I was fine with that.
But even an invitation to this house, on this day, was something to be coveted. Besides, robbing houses wasn't my thing. Stealing from people was. When I was younger, I could have targeted houses, but I was good at slipping through crowds.
Because of my petite stature, it was easy. Why change what I was good at? That, and I could never go stealing on my own.
My life changed the second I met Cameron Moretti.
Cameron was the sole reason for me being here. He was my oldest friend—oldest being five years older than me. I had known him for just over ten years, which also made his friendship the longest lasting.
Now, he was getting married. I couldn't wrap my head around it. Eight months ago, he wasn't considering settling down. When he told me his father arranged a marriage with the daughter of an old friend, I almost peed myself laughing. Cameron hadn't been ecstatic about it, either. Until he met Regan.