Chapter Two
Mackenzie
I stood outside the Kensington Mansion with a smile on my face. This was the moment I had been waiting on for a long time. Researching the target had taken months, but it had ultimately brought me to this moment, and all I could do was smile. Old man Kensington had more money than God, and the stodgy old bastard was about to share a lot of it with me.
I had been casing the Kensington Mansion for the past few weeks, waiting to make my move. I needed to learn the ins and outs of the home and all of the routines that went with it. The only drawback I had seen was that the butler and his wife lived on site—not too unusual for a billionaire. The owner had been missing for a few weeks, which was perfect for my plans. The best part was watching a red-haired man show up and escort the butler and his wife out the door. A curious happening, but it definitely worked in my favor—the house was finally empty. I needed to take advantage of the opportunity while I had the chance before anyone else showed up. Not that I really had to worry. If it came down to me having to run from the old man, I could escape with my treasures pretty easily.
I believed that I knew everything I needed to know about Mr. Kensington. I had done a ton of research on him, and I knew he was the perfect target. He was an art dealer who had acquired some of the rarest pieces of art from around the world. I wanted those pieces for myself. Robbing the rich didn’t bother my conscience—they were a heartless and cold breed and didn’t deserve anyone’s pity.
I made my way to the top of the tree-lined fence then swung off of a branch and landed on the lawn. The landscaping in the yard behind the fence was impeccable. I knew there were cameras on the property, but I was dressed all in black like a ninja and moved quickly. The most they would capture was a shadow making its way around the yard. As I headed to the mansion, I grabbed one of the ivy trellises that climbed its brick wall and scaled the building, quickly moving up the side. I made it to the top of the trellis in just shy of two minutes. Perched outside the window, I took a look around the grounds. Not a sound. Nothing moving. Removing a glass cutter from the pouch around my waist, I cut a tidy hole near the lock of the window. Pushing the glass inside, I reached in and unlocked the window. I raised it enough to let myself in and rolled inside the bedroom.
I didn’t waste any time. I knew there was no one home, so there was no need to be quiet. I needed to get in and out as quickly as possible. Heading to the main office where I knew Kensington kept his best and most valuable pieces, I stood staring in awe of the art before me.
I snatched the pieces I wanted off the wall and quickly cut them out of their frames. I’d done this dozens of times, and as a professional, I could wrap up pieces of art in mere minutes without damaging them. I rolled up the canvasses, put them in canisters, then tied them to my back.
It was then that I heard the unmistakable sound of a helicopter. It was close—too close. I ran to the nearest window and looked out.
“What the hell?” I said aloud.
It was Kensington flying a helicopter.
A 90-year-old man flying a helicopter? Did I underestimate the old man? For all that research, how had I not known he had a pilot’s license?
Geez, girl, how could you be so stupid?
I made it a habit to know everything about my targets at all times. I never made mistakes, and this one could cost me for sure. It couldn’t have been worse news to have him drop in on me unannounced.
I looked up at the ceiling, frustration building up in me. This man could literally just fly around and do as he pleased, inconveniently dropping in on me when I was trying to get my work done. This further proved the injustice of a rich person’s life.
I heard the front door slam and knew I needed to get out of there fast. I moved quickly down the hall and back to the bedroom. I heard him on the stairs and realized I didn’t have the time to escape. I needed to find a temporary hiding place, so I slid underneath the bed.
Once Kensington was upstairs, he paused as if listening for something. Had he heard me?
“Is anyone there? Edward, are you still here?”
The voice was not at all what I’d expected. Definitely not that of an elderly man. Something was wrong. If it wasn’t old man Kensington, who was it?
It sounded like he had gone back downstairs, and as I listened, it became clear to me that he was, in fact, searching the house. I could only pray he wouldn’t check his office until after I’d left. The search didn’t take him long, and I wondered if it had more to do with the man I had seen escorting people out of the home than it had to do with Kensington—or whoever it was—worrying about an intruder. Why had he removed his own staff from the premises? Not that I was complaining. If it hadn’t been for their departure, I wouldn’t have been able to get in to take what I wanted.
I heard Kensington return to the hallway and move again toward the bedroom. He stopped in front of the door and looked around. Curious, I craned my neck to see what he looked like.
Holy shit, he’s hot.
Whoever was standing in the doorway to the bedroom was not old man Kensington. I started to feel queasy, wondering who the man was and whether I was in more trouble than I had originally thought. I squinted up at him, admiring the view. He was strong and muscular but in a lean way, like a runner. He looked delicious, and in any other situation, he was the kind of man I would have pounced on. I held my breath and watched him. He waited another minute before retreating down the hall away from the office. I heard another door close and presumed he had gone to another bedroom. I was thankful he hadn’t gone to the office first thing. If that had been the case, I would have needed to commence my escape immediately, and that may have gotten ugly.