Claimed by the Thief

by Eliza Lockhart

  Thief #1

  Claimed by the Thief

  Eliza Lockhart

  Copyright © 2020 Eliza Lockhart

  All rights reserved.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, organisations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please go to any online ebook store and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  April 12th – 7:21pm

  Nadenka

  Like everything else in my life, my father had already made his decision. As I met his eyes, my expression guarded, I could tell.

  It was time for me to marry. At least that’s what he thought. Of course, I didn’t necessarily agree. I rarely did, but I knew that wasn’t likely to stop him parading me around to eligible suitors, especially now Mikhail Petrushkov and his father were dealt with and the Sokolov family, well, mostly just my father, Anisim Sokolov, and the eldest Petrushkov, Vasily, were in charge.

  Sat beside my father at the dinner table were three of the most eligible bachelors currently in Moscow. In our line of work, anyway, which is to say wealthy criminals, most of whom got other, poorer, Russians to do their dirty work for them. I’d lived in this world my entire existence, never seeing the police intervene, so that part didn’t bother me. It was his presumption to choose, and the expectant look in all their eyes. They knew why they were there.

  As I walked towards the table the nearest leaped to his feet, his chair wobbling, causing him to stumble over a leg and fumble trying to right both himself and the expensive piece of antique furniture.

  “Hello, Nadenka. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Gavriil. My father, Igor-”

  “I know who you are. Your father is here most days.” I deliberately didn’t keep the coldness from my voice, cutting off his rapid delivery of what had obviously been a rehearsed line.

  As I moved past him, taking hold of the chair he’d been about to pull out for me, he stood, his mouth opening and closing.

  “Good evening,” I said as I sat, giving my father and everyone else at the table my usual polite smile. Gavriil had the sense to slip himself back into his seat. My father, sat opposite me, returned the greeting, his voice gruff and the flash of anger in his eyes the first warning sign that he wanted this to go far better than I did.

  There was one more empty seat, a full set of cutlery and fine china laid out to indicate a missing guest. I glanced at the clock, aware whoever it was intended for was running the risk of being shown the door on arrival.

  If there was one thing Father disliked more than being disobeyed, it was people being late to social arrangements, and dinner was half seven. Always.

  Of the other two men who had been invited to our table for the evening, I found myself sat next to the only one I didn’t immediately recognise. I’d already decided Gavriil would be an unwelcome person to have on my side, choosing to give this mystery guest a chance. He merely smiled at me before turning his attention to his glass of water, gripping the stem of the wine glass containing it with a shaky hand.

  I didn’t hide my sigh of annoyance at his lack of social confidence, already shifting my attention to the third and final bachelor my father had invited for dinner. This was a man I had heard off and seen at several social engagements over the years, but I knew something most people didn’t. Luka Bolkonski was gay, and still mostly in the closet. Because his parents didn’t know, he was no doubt as obligated to be there, as was I. Sadly, sitting next to him hadn’t been an option, but I gave him the only genuine smile I expected to be able to muster.

  There was a small measure of sympathy in his eyes when my father motioned for one of the attending servants to pour us all wine and coughed to clear his throat. It was obvious my father was about to intervene, to try and encourage romance to blossom, or at least some kind of business transaction to be arranged involving my hand and probably an obscene amount of money.

  “Matvey, this is my daughter, Nadenka. I believe you two haven’t met before.” Father motioned to the awkward man beside me.

  This new bachelor looked to me and smiled again, but still didn’t speak. I was beginning to wonder if he even had a tongue inside his head. If he did, I wasn’t sure I wanted to help him use it.

  “Matvey owns some of the finest race horses in Russia. Many of them race all over, here in Moscow, St Petersburg...”

  At the mention of this second city I rolled my eyes. Not only was my father making it obvious he was trying to find something in common between us, he had made it clear exactly why Matvey was a possible suitor. Father had been wanting to grow his influence in St Petersburg for some time.

  I chose to remain silent this time, merely nodding at the information. But father didn’t give up.

  “Nadenka rides almost every day. She owns Lintara and has even successfully bred her. The foal shows promise.”

  “Lintara. Yes, I have one of her earlier offspring. Another mare,” Matvey said, beginning a diatribe of horse names, measurements, ages and races they’d competed in and won.

  By the time he was on the second horse I was doing my best to pretend he wasn’t talking as I took a large gulp of wine. This was going to be a long dinner.

  When Matvey was still talking two minutes later I gave my father a glare, making sure he knew how unimpressed I was. He gave an almost imperceptible shrug in response. The closest thing I’d get to an apology or an acknowledgement that he was less than ideal.

  Glancing at the clock again, I wondered why the meal wasn’t being served. It was almost five minutes past the usual time, and we were still sat waiting, listening to Matvey, no one else seeming to know how to interrupt yet.

  Suddenly the door opened, father’s most trusted guard admitting our final dinner guest, the one person who could get away with being late, Vasily Petrushkov.

  He nodded at my father before heading straight for the empty seat. Immediately the servants poured him a drink and rushed to begin serving dinner.

  “Don’t you just hate it when work keeps you from good food,” Vasily said, no hint of an apology.

  Jerk, I thought, but just like my father, I smiled in response. Vasily was known to hold a grudge, and given how he’d apparently had both his own father and brother killed just to gain more power, he wasn’t someone I planned to piss off just yet. Of course, that didn’t mean I had to like him. I just had more sense than to be rude to someone who was possibly the most powerful man in Russia right now.

  “Nadenka, isn’t it?” Vasily asked once we all had the shrimp starter in front of us. I nodded. “I’ve heard many things about your love of animals. Is it true you have several exotic ones?”

  Once more I nodded, wondering how little I could respond while still being polite enough.

  “She has many, including a wolf. She’s had it since it was a cub.” My father gave me an encouraging look when he thought no one was watching. I would have rolled my eyes if Petrushkov hadn’t been suddenly focusing on me.

  “A wolf? Rather a dangerous pet.”

  “They can be, but I’ve worked with some of the best animal tamers in the world. He’s more gentle than you’d think. At least with me, anyway.”

  Vasily took a sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving my face. For a moment it was as i
f we were the only two people in the room, his eyes looking deep into mine, but I felt no hint of romance or blossoming attraction. Instead I felt vulnerable, like a mouse being studied by a bird of prey.

  I tried not to shudder and merely smiled, but I saw the look of triumph flash across his face, an almost smug delight about it. He evidently took pleasure in discomposing me.

  As Gavriil asked my father a question and broke the silence, I felt the familiar heat of anger flush through my body. One thing was clear, Vasily Petrushkov was not a man I wanted anything to do with.

  8:49pm

  I tried to stifle a yawn, and failed, as the men at the table continued to all talk of a recent political issue and what would happen to their most lucrative money laundering method if a particular law went through.

  Countless times I’d been around while men talked openly of crimes, and once more I found myself wondering how they could feel so untouchable by the law and all the rules that governed so many others, but it was simple. There was safety in numbers, and money brought power with it. The power bought protection. While these men were so wealthy they were also untouchable.

  “Come, enough talk of work. Let us drink and enjoy our evening,” my father said, picking up the vodka glass from the table and standing. I eagerly followed suit, although I left my drink behind. There was no way I wanted to get inebriated when someone like Vasily was in the house. Especially as he appeared to have taken an interest in me.

  The men all traipsed through to the sitting room with us, giving me a chance to navigate my way closer to the one safe option, Luka.

  “I hear your sister recently married,” I said to him, sitting beside him on one of the antique sofas in the large sitting room we’d moved to. He nodded, leaning closer, but I winced. Of all the topics my brain had picked to open a conversation with, it had to be this one.

  “She used it as an excuse to throw one of largest parties Moscow has ever seen.”

  “Doesn’t every bride hope to do so?”

  A grin crossed his face but it disappeared when he noticed my father smiling and nodding. Neither of us wanted to give the impression we were too interested in marriage, but Luka wasn’t aware I knew his secret.

  “I suppose you’ve already thought about the wedding you want?” Vasily asked, interrupting our conversation and coming to stand close by. There wasn’t room on the small sofa with us but this didn’t seem to faze Vasily. He leant against the wall, his refilled glass of vodka in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

  Once more, I flashed the polite smile reserved for circumstances like this.

  “Until I know the man, I see it fruitless to plan, especially if I don’t yet know his likes and dislikes, how extroverted he is, how much he likes animals. There’s a lot of a man must be in order to make me happy.”

  My words made the room go silent. I’d made no attempt to hide my clear disapproval of the current situation. The next few seconds dragged out until my father laughed.

  “Nadenka has high standards. Can you blame a daughter of mine? I think I have spoilt her a bit much, no?”

  There was a pattering of polite laughter from everyone but Vasily, who merely smiled and studied me. I suppressed a shudder at the calculated look in his eyes. Whatever he was thinking, I wasn’t sure I was going to like it.

  Thankfully the appearance of one of Father’s guards and the buzz and ring of various phones pulled Vasily and my father from paying me any attention. The two men took one look at each other before excusing themselves.

  With their absence the entire room seemed to relax. I was left to play hostess to three men my father thought were eligible suitors. And as Gavriil and Matvey found they were both interested in some element of motor car racing, I was left to talk to Luka alone on the sofa. At regular intervals the servants refilled any empty glasses and offered light bites, cigars and alternative beverages.

  With no one else paying us any attention, I decided to find a subtle way of letting the man beside me know I wasn’t interested in him, that he was as safe from being thrust into a relationship with me as I was with him.

  “I hear that you and Anton Drimovich are very close,” I said when I was sure of not being overheard. Instantly his eyes narrowed.

  “Anton is a good friend,” he replied eventually. I nodded, realising I’d put him on the defensive rather than reassured him.

  “I know he’s a very special person. The kind someone doesn’t meet very often. The kind you’re perfectly safe with.” I met his eyes, speaking slower, wanting him to understand I knew and didn’t judge. “I’ve heard good things about him. I know it’s important to have friends who accept you just the way you are. I’d like more of those people in my life.”

  Understanding seemed to dawn on him as he visibly relaxed. I reached out and patted a hand.

  “Another drink?”

  “Yes, why not?”

  The nearest servant quickly stepped closer and refilled both our glasses. As soon as the man had stepped back to stand ceremoniously by the wall, Luka raised his glass.

  “To new friends!”

  “Who don’t judge,” I replied, matching his gesture. We downed our drinks at the same time and gave each other a nod of respect afterwards. Maybe this evening wouldn’t be a complete waste of time after all.

  A new friend was always welcome. And one that was almost guaranteed to be kind, with little agenda other than protecting their own secret, was hard to find in the social circles I was regularly exposed to.

  9:54pm

  “I’d best be going,” Gavriil said not long after Father had returned, thankfully without Vasily. “My father is expecting me to handle a delicate matter for him before I return home.”

  I fought to suppress a laugh at the ridiculous way he puffed up his chest as he spoke the last part. I didn’t completely succeed but only Luka appeared to notice. He flashed me a conspiratorial smile.

  Matvey soon followed, both of them then coming forward to say goodbye to me. As Father moved to escort them to the door, I was left alone with the one person who’d made my evening bearable. If he’d been straight, I might have been interested in something more, but then again, I’d not have been able to trust him the way I could knowing he had such a secret. Just like the others, I’d have had little choice but to be guarded.

  “I should go as well,” Luka said, getting to his feet. “But I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  After kissing the back of my hand, he strode to the door. And then I was alone. Or at least as alone as I could ever be in a house full of guards and servants.

  I had another drink, only beginning to feel the effect of the strong alcohol, despite the amount I’d consumed since I’d known Vasily had left.

  I was going to need the buzz. Father would return soon. And I wasn’t sure I’d like the conversation that came with it.

  As I heard his heavy footsteps returning on the wooden floor in the hall, I motioned for the nearest servant to pour another. I downed that as the door swung open.

  Wordlessly Father strode towards me and the servant, a flick of his hand demanding a drink of his own. Only after he’d swallowed the generous helping in one large gulp did he look at me.

  “You seem to delight in being difficult,” he said eventually.

  “You seem to delight in trying to force me to do as you wish. I’m not a possession to be sold to the most advantageous man. Especially not to the sorts of men that were here this evening.”

  “Oh, do not worry, at least two of them are less than impressed with the idea after your cold reception.”

  “Only two?” I let him see my disgust. I’d hoped that all four would make it clear they weren’t interested.

  “Do you think either of us could put off Vasily Petrushkov if he decides he does want you as his next wife? Even I do not dare refuse him.”

  The fear in Father’s words cooled my temper in an instant.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Father t
urned to me, studying me in a way he’d never done before.

  “Vasily Petrushkov is a powerful man. And he knows how to get what he wants. If he does decide he wants to marry you, he’s not going to accept a no from me. And I’m not sure I’d try. He would be able to keep you safe.”

  “So there is a part of you that cares about me in all this.” I spluttered the words, suddenly so angry the knuckles on the hand holding my glass had gone white.

  “Damn it, Nadenka.” Father slammed his fist on the mantelpiece. “Of course I care.”

  “Then why insist I marry one of a bunch of men just for the power and prestige they bring? Why not let me fall in love with whoever I please?”

  “Because it’s not safe! Every day since you were born I’ve worried about what someone might do to you to get back at me. Our world isn’t safe unless you have a powerful man to protect you.”

  “Arrgh! How like a man to think a woman must be protected. That I’m not capable of protecting myself.” I slammed my glass down, surprised it didn’t shatter, and strode for the door.

  “Where are you going, Nadenka? We’re not done here.”

  “To my room. I’m tired and no longer wish to discuss this. I won’t marry Vasily or any other trumped-up, egotistical peacock of a man you think might protect me.”

  I didn’t wait to hear his response to that. We were done. In the twenty-first century, he couldn’t make me marry anyone I didn’t want to.

  Furious, I marched towards my section of the house. Not only was my room there but several of my pets were there too, including the wolf that had been mentioned at dinner.

  In truth I had an entire wing, and a large portion of the grounds, penned into special enclosures. On top of that, there was a vet always on standby, and several specialist animal handlers consulted with me regularly. I really had made looking after animals a hobby. An expensive hobby.

  As I always did before sleeping, I made sure they had everything they needed, giving them food, water and my attention and affection. I left my wolf, Levin, until last. He required me to be calm, sensible, and I never handled him when I couldn’t be sure of those things. Thankfully he was in a good mood, and we cuddled more than anything while I talked at him.