Stolen Hood
The Grim Sisters
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Published in the United States of America
Cover By: EVE Graphic Design LLC
Edited By: Dani Black
Formatted By: Kassie Morse
Glad to find a sister whose soul is as dark as mine
Contents
Prologue
1. Robyn
2. Robyn
3. Robyn
4. Robyn
5. John
6. Robyn
7. Robyn
8. Robyn
9. Robyn
10. Archie
11. Robyn
12. Robyn
13. Richard
14. Robyn
15. Robyn
16. Archie
17. Robyn
18. John
19. Robyn
20. Richard
21. Robyn
22. Archie
23. Robyn
24. Robyn
25. Robyn
26. John
27. Robyn
28. Archie
29. Robyn
30. Braxton Hood
The Grim Sisters
Books by The Grim Sisters
About CY Jones
Books by CY Jones
About M. Sinclair
Also By M. Sinclair
Prologue
Richard
Looking down at my Rolex, I checked the time. Hmm, Red is late. She should have been here by now. Bored, I take a glance around the perimeter again. I have to admit, the security here at the Smithsonian is solid. It took me a whole lot longer than I would like to get inside, and even longer to hack through their firewalls to their CCTV to streamline the same visual on a loop for the next thirty minutes. Which is why I need Red to show her sexy ass up, and soon.
This place is nice. I’ve only ever been here once, during the day time when the museum was full of people. Mostly streams of students on school field trips and tours. I came here after ditching my father and brother when they had a business meeting with the Senator of Virginia. Tired of being ignored, I had the driver drop me off here. I remembered the excitement I had as I looked around at all the priceless works of art and rare jewels, and in my young, twelve-year-old mind I came to the conclusion that I wanted to be a thief.
Art was not the only thing I had my eyes on that day. I was also paying close attention to the guards and mentally recorded their shift changes, the concealed laser wires and how they moved in the day time during visiting hours, the glass cases the jewels were placed in, and the sensitive plates those rare jewels sat on and how it calculated the jewel’s weight, so if it were to be removed, or the calculations were even the tiniest bit altered, the alarms would go off. I also ran through each placement of every camera that was set up, which is how I knew which ones I needed set on a loop since I couldn't do it to all of them. Hey, some people want to be a fucking doctor or lawyer, but not me. I wanted to be what would set me up to be closer to my Red, because even that young, I knew she would be mine.
Faintly, I hear a sound that could only be heard if one was listening for it. A shadow rounds the corner and soon my red beauty comes into view. It’s funny that she’s here to steal a priceless jewel like a cat burglar because she’s definitely dressed the part in a tight all-black catsuit that hugs every curve of her delicious body. My dick is hard just watching her as she heads straight for the glass display housing a selection of rare Egyptian Jewels. Most people know the Smithsonian houses the Hope Diamond. You know, the diamond that old lady from the Titanic threw in the sea. Well, if she did, someone fucking found it, because it’s here in Washington, DC at the Smithsonian. What they don’t know, because it’s not nearly as famous, is the Smithsonian also has a huge uncut ruby, over 45 karats centered in a gold scabbard, which is now currently warming my pocket. I can practically feel her confusion from here when she notices the ruby isn’t in there. I watched amused as she circled the case a second time, scrutinizing it.
“What the fuck?” She murmured quietly.
Deciding to put her out of her misery, I stepped out the shadows and cleared my throat, causing my rare bird to jump out of her skin.
“Are you looking for this?” I asked, pulling the ruby out my jeans pocket.
“Richard, what are you doing here?” She hissed.
“The same as you, but it looks as if you’re a bit late for the party.”
I’m fucking delighted toying with her right now. I knew Robyn well. I’ve lived and breathed, studying her. I’d made it my life mission to know every fucking detail about her ever since the first time I saw her at one of my father’s garden parties when I was ten years old and just started to notice girls. I knew she was the one. All the other girls that were flocking around me like dumb idiots couldn’t hold a candle to her beauty, and I loved that she wasn’t even interested in me, or looking for a way to charm me so she could get an in with my family like all the others sent there were. Yes, in our circle they start pimping their kids young, teaching them the ways of deceit and seduction. As I grew older, my obsession with Robyn had grown to the unstable lines of insanity. Of course, I fucked around. Pussy was being thrown at me left and right, but they didn’t mean shit to me. Just a worm hole to practice on. I honed my skills so that when I got my first taste of Robyn, she wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.
Like the psycho I was becoming, I bought the brownstone next to her brothers’ when she first moved in with him and had the tiniest cameras, designed to look and service as nails, installed in the window of her bedroom and the crystal light fixture above her bed, so I can keep a more in-depth eye on her. Yes, big brother is fucking watching. I even watched every time she’d fucked that tool John, just to see what she liked, well that’s half true. I also got off watching her fuck him like my own live porno. She’s absolutely breathtaking when she comes. Those hazel green eyes of hers would dilate like she’s high and swirl with a mixture of breathtaking greens and golds. Her skin would flush perfectly, and she’d part her mouth in the perfect O shape, goading me to stick my cock inside. So even before this little run-in, I’ve always known Robyn’s true identity and what she partakes in at night when she’s not fucking that asshole.
The girl of my dreams is ‘The Red Robin’, master thief, and Queen of the underworld. The one who’d rob you blind and leaves behind a memento of an origami bird in her wake that said ‘fuck you, I was here’. She’s something else. Cocky with balls of steel, but her alter is what helped me come up with the perfect plan. This little setup is just the first step in making her mine forever. I do not know what love is, but this, what I’m feeling now, is as close as I’d ever get. She can have my stone heart. Every cold hard piece of it.
“Why don’t you give me that ruby, and forget you even saw me here?” If this is her bargaining then she really needs to brush up on her skills.
“And why would I do that, Red?” I asked, glancing down at my watch. Ten minutes left before the cameras go back to normal and in less than that, a guard would be patrolling this area.
“Because it’s not like you need the money,” she retorted.
“And you do?” I questioned, raising my brow.
“That’s beside the point,
” she huffed,
“Oh, but this ruby has become even more valuable to me. It’s revealed just who the Red Robin is. I think I’ll take my spoils, and think about what I’m going to do with this knowledge,” I smirked, again glancing down at my watch.
“I’m sorry, do you have somewhere else you need to be?” She spits out through clenched teeth.
“Yes, we both do in five,” I say, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward a hidden nook. The area is small and her lush body is pressed up against mine. Every inhale of air pushes her full tits into my chest, filling my nostrils filled with her sweet apple scent, “four, three, two, one,” I murmured with my lips close to hers, only mere millimeters from touching.
“What?” She barely gets the word out when we heard the sound of jingling keys as the guard enters the exhibit. I hope for both our sakes that’s he’s not an art buff and notices the ruby missing or we’d both be screwed. It wasn’t my intention for us to still be here when the guard did his walkthrough. I feel like it takes forever before he finally gives the all clear and moves on.
“Come on,” I growled, grabbing her hand in a tight grip and started sprinting towards the way I came in. We only had three minutes left to get the fuck out of dodge.
I give Red credit. She doesn’t question anything. She just took off with me, not complaining once as I pulled her through the museum. Once we make it to the roof, I let go of her hand and pushed her forward so she could scale down the pulley I had inconspicuously placed. Once we’re both on the ground, we walk a couple of blocks in silence before she finally spoke.
“What are you going to do?”
No need for her to elaborate. I already knew what she’s asking. She wanted to know what I’d do about the knowledge of her true identity, but she should have known me better than to think I’d just tell her.
“You’ll find out sooner or later,” is all I said as I strolled away, leaving her gawking.
I need to unload this ruby so I’d have more than enough time to watch how she deals with this turn of events. The first part of my plan is done, now onto the next.
Chapter One
Robyn
One Year Later
I hate this class.
Why was I taking this again? Oh yeah, my stepmother thought it would help drive out my rebellious ways and build character. Teach me how to act like a proper lady, masking who I really am. The family name I was born into, the one my stepmom tries so hard to hide from others.
What I can’t understand? If she hates my father’s legacy so much, then why marry Braxton Hood in the first place? Silly me, that’s a stupid question. Money, power, and respect are her main motivations. The three things she cares about most. Probably the only things she cares about, in my opinion. My stepmother is the quintessential snobby socialite and my father, in her eyes, is nothing more than Charlie’s Chocolate Factory golden ticket, the jackpot in the lotto, the cream in a Twinkie... you get my point. My dad was her ladder to a better life, and like the career social climber she was, the woman took him two steps at a time. It’s not that I dislike her. Okay, that’s a lie, I hate the bitch. We’ve never really bonded and probably never will. She’s been in my life since I was five, my real mother had died in childbirth after having me. When I was little, my father would regale me with stories of her all the time. His Marian, and one true love. His marriage to my stepmother is nothing more than one of convenience. Neither loves each other. She wanted my father’s status, and my father wanted a mother for my brother and me.
Etiquette 101.
Who would have thought they teach this shit in college? Especially at Columbia, but here I am, currently drooling on my desk in the most unladylike manner because as I said, this class is boring as fuck. ‘Robyn Loxley Hood,’ I faintly hear before a hard elbow nudges me in my side.
“Ow,” I groan, giving my bestie Lilith a dirty look, as she tilts her head towards Ms. Ashdown; our stern, very British, and mean as shit instructor. “Yes, Ms. Ashdown?” I respond, in a sickly sweet voice.
“Lady Hood, before your impromptu nap, I was going over the topics of conversation a lady should and should not say at dinner. Can you give me an example of what one should not say?” She asks with clear disdain laced in her voice. I am not her favorite student, and if she could, she would have failed me and had me thrown out this class by now. But I’m a Hood. I’m part of one of the top ten richest families in the world, old money, and in this world where you come from means everything.
“I thought a lady wasn’t allowed to speak at all,” I answer dryly.
Fascinated, I watch her face turn a brilliant shade of red as her nostrils flare in anger.
“Politics,” Lilith says beside me, saving me from a tongue lashing, and Ms. Ashdown from my sarcastic wit.
“Correct.” Ms. Ashdown smiles at Lilith before glaring at me and continuing on with her lecture.
I managed to stay awake during the rest of the class. Mostly because Lilith turned traitor and wouldn’t allow me to fall back to sleep. I’m glad today is the last day of school before winter break. Besides final exams, Etiquette 101 is the only class in session. All the rest of the professors with lives have already gone home to their families.
Although I can’t say this class doesn’t have its merits. Yes, most of the time it’s boring as hell, but there are times that the lessons learned here are more valuable than anything I can learn anywhere else. What do I mean by that?
For starters, I should explain who I am. My name is Robyn Hood. Yes, you heard that right. In association with ‘The Robin Hood’, the one who robbed from the rich and gave to the poor, who, if alive today, would give Katniss Everdeen a run for her money with a bow and arrow. People think Robin Hood was nothing more than a fairytale, but he was actually my great-great-great-, and I may be missing another great, -grandfather. And like my great ancestor, my family has continued that line of thievery today, just in a far more low-key manner.
During the day, I'm a spoiled college student. I go to school, hang out with my best friend, and put on an act for high society, but at night the mask comes off and I’m my true self. I’m a shadow blending into the underworld, pulling off the greatest feats of thievery in history. Not petty jobs like pickpocketing or stealing from the mall. No, I specialize in stealing the unstealable. Precious works of art and long lost treasures that are locked up tighter than the White House. Why? Well, besides it being my calling, I get a rush out of it. It’s my drug of choice. My addiction. This aspect of my business I don’t do for profit. It’s not like we need the money. Once I sell said stolen items on the black market, I donate the money to different charities. Charities I know are making a difference in the world, and not pocketing the money for themselves. Of course in this business I take many risks, so that’s where this class comes in. The only reason why my father hasn’t allowed me to drop it.
Let's take ballroom dancing for example. The elegant movements and practiced steps do wonders for one who needs perfect balance to scale a rooftop. Don’t get me started on those cross wire laser alarm sensors. They’re such a pain in the ass. Learning to speak and hold myself as a lady helps me blend in and disappear into the background while I rob them blind. I was not joking when I said a lady should not be heard. We are nothing more than pretty arm candy to be sold off to the highest bidder when we come of age. Even in the twenty-first century, some things never change.
Also, this business comes with its own challenges. It’s dangerous as fuck and I have many rivals, all looking to dethrone me from my high standing. Like Richard York, the second son of Thomas York the hotel mogul and King of high-end resorts. When I mentioned there are ten old money families, he comes from one of them, as in the top numeral uno. I have no strife against the old man, it's his son I dislike. He’s cocky, arrogant, and a fucking psycho. He’s also one of the very few who knows who I really am. How? I had the misfortune of running into him on a job. A job where we both were contracted for. The asshole got his slimy hand
s on a priceless Egyptian ruby before I could, and I’ve been fuming over it ever since. It also doesn’t help that he’s hot as fuck. What is it with grade A assholes looking like a wet dream? It’s totally unfair. His beauty is as distracting as his asshole demeanor. He’s also just my type. The kind of man that’ll fuck you hard against the wall with his hand gripped firmly around your throat. I get wet just thinking about him, but unfortunately, I have rules, and I don’t mix business with pleasure, no matter how much my pussy wishes otherwise. There really is no honor among thieves, and I’m surprised he hasn’t outed me yet. He holds everything I care about in his fingertips and I’ve been waiting, preparing for the other shoe to drop.
I’m the famous Red Robin. Besides Richard, no one knows that. When clients contact me to acquire something for them, they go through a complicated network system of my own design. All messages and payments are done through there. Every wire transfer is sent to an offshore account under a pseudonym. I take no chances when it comes to my identity, well except for one. It may be dumb or me being cocky, but I leave a small token behind on each of my jobs, so they know just who hit them. A red origami bird. In all the years I’ve been making a name for myself, I’m surprised no one has put two and two together. Besides my real name being Robyn, my hair is a fiery red. I inherited my hair from my Scottish mother.
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