Loving York (Warwick Dragons #2) - Milly Taiden

Chapter One

Josie

This is what life is all about.

The adrenaline was pumping in her veins at warp speed. Josie could have sworn that she could hear her blood singing a happy tune as she snuck around the corner, and came face to face with her mission.

The Johannes Galileo painting.

She smiled at the old canvas that was worth upwards of fifteen million dollars.

Rich people and their art. Insert eye roll here.

Josie didn’t get it, she really didn’t.

The painting was nice, sure. It had vibrant colors, and the brush strokes were imperceptible to the naked eye. Speaking of naked, the girl in the portrait was a stone-cold fox, even with her tit hanging out of her gown.

The painting’s price tag made no sense to her. Josie knew wealthy people. She understood how their minds worked. She had dealt with enough of them through the years to get it. These people could drop fifteen mil on a painting, but they expected to be worshiped like fucking saints if they gave 0.1% of that to charities in a year.

But hey, if someone wanted to pay her good money to steal that painting, who was she to say no? Especially when the person who had hired her was a known and respected conservationist. In a few short months, the painting, which had been missing since World War II, would be anonymously donated to a museum.

Righteous justice.

That’s not what made Josie steal.

There were about a million reasons why Josie Essa did what she did, and not all of them were monetary. She did need the money. Desperately. Medical bills didn’t pay themselves.

Medical research needed to be funded somehow. Rich pricks with their tit paintings didn’t donate enough to help the regular people of the world. So long as they weren’t affected by things like Multiple Sclerosis, they sat on their piles of money like hoarding dragons.

Besides, most of the wealthy people she stole from were shifters. Those humans could literally shift into animals. They didn’t get sick. They just didn’t get debilitating, degenerative diseases that cost three limbs and seven vital organs to treat per month.

That’s how it felt, anyway.

If it wasn’t for Josie, her Gammy would have died a long time ago. Just like her sister had.

If it wasn’t for the stuff Josie stole, the MS research center would be severely lacking in funds.

Those were the moral reasons. The ones that always had her believing it would be just one more job. One more hit. One more heist.

The other part of it was that Josie Essa was a bit of an adrenaline junkie. She lived for the risk. It was an added bonus that she was very good at thievery. Though she very rarely stole paintings. Jewels were her specialty.

Mia, her best friend and partner, inched beside her, silently on the tips of her toes. They communicated with well-practiced hand gestures. Josie assessed the heavy gold-leaf frame. It was old but not as old as the Galileo painting. That meant they could leave the frame and take only the canvas. It made their escape that much easier.

Two twenty-something-year-olds walking down the streets of the French Riviera holding a priceless painting didn’t exactly scream here on spring break. Not that spring breakers could afford the French Riviera.

Josie silently motioned to Mia to give her the metal tube that was tucked behind her back. She placed it on the ground, making sure the metal didn’t make a sound against the shiny, white marble flooring. Mia handed Josie a small toolkit, and with steady hands, she produced a small set of scissors to cut through the electric wiring of the alarm that was attached to the Galileo nudie pic.

Josie hadn’t even touched the naked chick when the loudest, most obnoxious alarm started blaring. Her heart leaped in her chest, and she went into action.

The Johannes Galileo painting was right fucking there. Inches away from the very tips of her fingers. She wasn’t going to let a pesky alarm stop her from getting her payday.

“What the hell?” Mia roared over the earsplitting sound, looking down at her watch. “We have seventy-five seconds to get out of here.”

Josie didn’t answer. She cut the wiring, not being meticulous or careful. The alarm was already tripped. What more could happen? The homeowner would be more alarmed?

She snorted at her own joke as she carefully rolled up the painting and slid the rolled-up canvas into the long, black metal canister.

“Fifteen seconds,” Mia warned.

“Grab the painting,” Josie shouted. “Go. Follow the pink thong protocol.”

It was a

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