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    Luster: The Diamond Club
    Luster: The Diamond Club
    Luster: The Diamond Club
    Ebook91 pages1 hour

    Luster: The Diamond Club

    By Alyssa Breck and Diamond Club

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    About this ebook

    THE DIAMOND CLUB: Where secrets are sacred and diamonds are currency DiamondClubWorld.com

    Harper Jensen is smart, beautiful, and a thief. She makes her living pulling off million-dollar jewelry heists, and spends her spare time bedding a bad-boy criminal. When the Roksana Diamond is stolen from an enigmatic Russian billionaire, he hires Harper to steal it back. She always works alone but history reminds her that robbing the Russian mob is a dangerous proposition.

    Eli Cruz is better known as The Centurion, an enforcer for The Romans MC. He’s no stranger to the dark underbelly of New York City’s crime syndicate. When his longtime lover enlists his help to pull off a risky diamond caper, her past comes back to haunt her. While dodging danger, and reconciling old sins, the gritty biker and the secretive socialite struggle to draw the lines between business, pleasure, and love.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAlyssa Breck
    Release dateMay 23, 2017
    ISBN9781386965572
    Luster: The Diamond Club

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      Book preview

      Luster - Alyssa Breck

      THE DIAMOND CLUB: Where secrets are sacred and diamonds are currency

      LUSTER

      Harper Jensen is smart, beautiful, and a thief. She makes her living pulling off million-dollar jewelry heists, and spends her spare time bedding a bad-boy criminal. When the Roksana Diamond is stolen from an enigmatic Russian billionaire, he hires Harper to steal it back. She always works alone but history reminds her that robbing the Russian mob is a dangerous proposition.

      Eli Cruz is better known as The Centurion, an enforcer for the Romans MC. He’s no stranger to the dark underbelly of New York City’s crime syndicate. When his longtime lover enlists his help to pull off a risky diamond caper, her past comes back to haunt her. While dodging danger, and reconciling old sins, the gritty biker and the secretive socialite struggle to draw the lines between business, pleasure, and love.

      Chapter One

      THE BACKSEAT OF THE cab smelled like patchouli, like dirt. Traffic was stop and go as usual. Harper Jensen tapped her manicured finger on her stocking-clad knee. The new Tiffany bangles clinked together on her wrist. She stared out the window as the New York skyline swallowed the sun, leaving behind a pink and orange mirage that resembled a frozen fruity daiquiri.

      The cashier’s check for a little over a hundred grand was tucked inside her black leather clutch. The car she ordered a month ago had finally arrived from Germany. The shiny gun-metal gray Mercedes SL450 roadster was a work of art with three hundred fifty horses. Giddy up. Harper slipped a fifty to the cab driver and walked around the back of the warehouse. The breeze off the Hudson was cool now that it was getting dark. The heels of her black patent leather stilettos clicked on the smooth concrete as she approached the garage door. Before she could depress the buzzer, the door engine engaged and the aluminum rolled up.

      When she first laid eyes on the roadster, her breath caught in her throat. A man in a suit almost the same color of the car rounded the corner and smiled. Sales like this kept him in good suits and too-white veneers on his teeth.

      He stuck out his hand. Ms. Jensen. Good to see you again.

      Harper smiled and shook his hand firmly. Likewise, Mr. Black.

      She was sure that wasn’t his real surname but it mattered not. The car wasn’t stolen. It was factory custom from Mercedes-Benz. But she got a discount because Mr. Black ordered them in bulk and he was also a client of Harper’s. A diamond customer.

      Please take a look at it. Let me know if you’re satisfied.

      Harper reached into her handbag and handed him the check. Thank you.

      It’s always my pleasure to do business with a pretty lady. Mr. Black’s hair was cut short. The salt and pepper at his temples revealed little of his age. With men it was hard to tell sometimes, but Harper put him somewhere in his late forties to early fifties.

      She opened the driver’s door and peeked inside. All of her requests had been met with the car including the black ash wood trim and panorama roof. Looks great.

      With a smile, he handed her the key fob and the paperwork. You’ve owned one of these before haven’t you?

      Yes. This is my first roadster though. My last was a C-class.

      I’m confident you’ll enjoy this upgrade. You have my cell number. Give me a call if you have any questions.

      She slid into the driver’s seat and the soft leather hugged her like an old friend. Will do. That was a lie. She wouldn’t call him if she had questions, she’d call the guy who knew more about cars than anyone else she knew. She’d call The Centurion.

      Half an hour later, she pulled the roadster into the parking lot of another warehouse. A warehouse that probably had a car like hers in its garage where it was being chopped into pieces for resale to people like Mr. Black.

      Three Harleys were parked in a front of the clubhouse for the Romans Motorcycle Club. Harper was currently fucking their Sergeant-at-Arms also known as The Centurion. They were both outlaws but of a different caliber. If she wanted someone dead she’d call The Romans, and if they needed some rare gems, they’d call her. It was a beautiful balance of power.

      She sent a text message to Eli Cruz to let him know she was outside. No one called him by his given name except for her. A minute later, the front door opened. Eli strolled outside. A hunting knife in a leather sheath hung from his belt. Dark hair brushed his shoulders and he flashed a crooked grin that highlighted the faint scar on his cheek.

      Harper hit the button on the door to roll down the window.

      Eli whistled and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. Damn, baby. This is a serious ride.

      She tried not to stare at the zipper of his jeans but sitting in the car put her at eye level with his crotch. I thought you might like it. Harper tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. Hop in. I’ll take you for a ride.

      He raised an eyebrow. I’m not sure I’ll fit in your little two-seater. Eli pulled the passenger door open and slid into the seat.

      Looks are deceiving, honey. It has great leg room, she offered.

      I see that.

      The scent of leather and cinnamon chewing gum competed with the new car smell. Eli wore a black cut over a black t-shirt. She knew the patches. The rockers on the back and the eagle with spread wings in the center. The Romans patch was sewn onto the left side of the vest and Centurion on the right along with a few other symbols she hadn’t asked about. Like Boy Scouts, they earned a patch for accomplishments and skills. Only Eli was no Boy Scout. None of them were.

      Harper moved the shifter into drive, pulled out of the gated parking lot, and hit the accelerator. The Mercedes went from zero to sixty in less than five seconds.

      Eli laughed. Shit. This is like a little rocket. He put his hand on her thigh and squeezed. Like you.

      She smirked and put her hand on top of his. The cold steel of the rings on his fingers rested against her palm. I’m full of surprises.

      Your last score must have been good. Looks like you spared no expense on options, unless this baby is hot.

      You know I don’t buy anything stolen.

      That’s rich coming from someone who steals diamonds for a living. He slid his hand farther up her thigh to reach

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