Page 3 of Prettiest Little Thief (Band of Thieves #1)

I tried not to stare at the pretty brunette who had taken the keys to my McLaren. Her smile, her bright brown eyes. How that navy valet uniform hugged her petite form and barely concealed her sizable breasts.

I shook my head. There was no time for this bullshit. She was no one. The only person that mattered right now was Sarah.

“Mister Knight, thank you for meeting me here. I couldn’t risk Christian finding out about our appointment,” Tomas said.

“There wasn’t really a choice. You have the information I want, and I have the money you and your wife need,” I replied as I took a seat at the conference room table, sliding my hand over the silk tie that I wanted nothing more than to rip off.

Tomas dipped his chin and sat at the table to my right, scooting his chair in.

He ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair, inhaling deeply.

Silence hung between us as I waited for him to begin.

“As you know, I was employed in the kitchen at Christian’s for the last five years.

But he started firing us out of the blue.

Without any explanation.” Tomas fidgeted with the gold wedding band on his finger.

“After we were terminated, I found out he had sold the house his parents had left him and moved to a much smaller home by the beach. Nice. But not his normal… taste. ”

“And Sarah? Did she go to the new house?” I asked. With a glimmer of hope that she had left, or Christian had tossed her out.

Tomas shook his head, his coffee-colored eyes meeting my gaze. “Sarah, such a sweet woman. As far as I know she went with him. He would never give her up.”

My jaw clenched so hard it sent an ache through my teeth.

Then, as if in sudden realization, his eyes widened. “You know, I did hear him discussing something with Joseph about how he’d give anything to get Anastasia’s Keepsake .”

“ Anastasia’s Keepsake? What the hell is that?” I asked.

“I’m not exactly sure.” A frown crossed Tomas’s face. “Maybe it’s a shot in the dark to get Sarah out of her prison.”

I pulled my phone from my pocket and typed it into the search bar. The glass door to the conference room pushed open before I could finish reading the article online.

One of the women who worked the front desk of the hotel took several tentative steps into the room. My brow raised as the woman shifted on her feet. “Mister Knight, we have a problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

“Your… um…car…” she stuttered.

I pushed the chair back with force, my nostrils flaring in irritation. “What about my car?”

“Well, someone stole it.” She swallowed thickly.

“What the hell do you mean someone stole my McLaren? Your employees don’t know how to lock cars?” I glanced at Tomas. “We’ll have to finish this another time, Tomas. I’ll have someone contact you about the transfer.”

“That’s the thing, sir. The valet—the woman you gave your keys to, she doesn’t work for us.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. ”

The receptionist shook her head, eyes wide. “I… I’m sorry, sir. The police have been contacted.” I strode out of the room, the woman following behind me.

Attention back on my phone, I dialed and put it to my ear. “Fox,” I snapped. “Get in touch with Officer O’ Neal. I have a little thief on my hands.”