The bathroom door is closed, and the bath is running. But I have a feeling she’s not in it. I access the camera I have in there. In my defense, it’s for protection. Not spying. As suspected, no Cruz in the bath.
I hear a sound in my bedroom and access the bedroom camera. But I don’t see her on the main feed. Which means… No.
She found my secret room.
This woman is going to be the death of me.
Chapter 10
Serena
I found his secretroom. Filled to the brim with stolen artifacts hidden in numbered lockers. It really wasn’t that hard. People like him always hide things just out of sight. And clearly, the last time he was here, he was in a hurry. The picture frame on the moving wall was still tilted.
I study the numbers on the lockers. They aren’t consecutive. It starts with 514—a date I presume. Then goes to 712. Another date.
Stupid man.
I find the date I’m looking for near the bottom. 922. Scarlett’s birthday.
I slip the pin I stole from his room—he literally had them sitting on his nightstand—and pick the lock with it.
There it is. Therealjewelry box. I audibly sigh as I take the crystal in my hands. Finally.
I glance up, trying to decipher the other potential dates engraved in the lockers. What else is he hiding in here?
“Find what you’re looking for?”
I jump, slipping the pin into my pocket and glaring at Liam. “So, you were going to give the Winthrops the ring worth millions, but wanted to keep the ten-thousand-dollar jewelry box to yourself? What kind of thief are you?”
He purses his lips and lets out a breath through his nose, flaring his nostrils in frustration. “The ring is a family heirloom and rightfully theirs. But the Winthrops only know Scarlett had a jewelry box stolen from her. They barely know what it looks like. I promise, they don’t care about it.”
I raise a brow and rise to my feet. “But you do?”
“Yes.”
His abrupt answer causes the hair to rise on the back of my neck. “Why?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “I like it.”
That’s so vague, it’s suspicious.
“Tell me.”
“Fine.” He leans on the opposite wall, crossing one foot over the other. “It’s part of a bigger treasure.”
I raise an eyebrow at his predictability. Of course. He’s a con artist known to sell his ridiculous stories, what else did I expect? “You’re kidding right?”
He shakes his head. “I suspect that’s why Sawyer went after it in the first place.”
“What’s the treasure?” Except I’m not certain I want to know.
“I’m glad you asked.” He drops his voice to mimic the romantic register of David Attenborough. “Long ago, during the reign of King George V, the Royal Family’s most accomplished jewel maker—”
“Stop. You sound ridiculous.”
But he continues. “... was making the most ornate pieces known to man. Think Fabergé egg. It took him fifteen years to complete it, but while in transport, the box of goods disappeared. The ring maker was furious and demanded the king still pay him the remaining wages. The King refused and banished him to South America. The ring maker was never seen again, and the treasure was never recovered.”
“And you believe this one box will lead you straight to this elusive treasure?” He’s more gullible than I thought.
