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Remy LeBeau scanned the crowded party with a devilish smirk. His goal lay within those gilt-mirrored, velvet curtained, one-of-a-kind wall papered walls.
He hoisted himself up onto a ledge, but not after taking one more look at the beautifully dressed people inside. He held a deep contempt for them.
He supposed it was because he'd spent his life a thief. Sure, he lived in a place that put many of the most posh mansions to shame, but, it was different.
With agility only a well trained, professional thief could, he slunk across the ledge and entered the building through an all too conveniently open window. He silently stepped into the room.
He was familiar with the house. He'd been in it too many times to count. He knew there was no security in the house. The only security was the two men he had easily slipped by outside a few minutes before. And the pack of dogs who yipped happily upon seeing him... he always had treats for them. A good thief was prepared for anything.
He walked over to a well done copy of Picasso's "La RePasseuse". He lifted it and set it on the ground. Behind it was a wall safe. "Some people are too easy." He muttered to himself.
And these people never even checked their preciously hidden keepsakes. Otherwise, his slow removal of them would've been noticed in the three weeks since he'd begun. If they had been checking on them, they might have noticed a few million in heirloom jewelry missing and might have put in a security system. Not that it would've stopped Remy, though. It'd just be a slight annoyance.
He popped open the safe and pulled out a couple more pieces of jewelry.
Normally, he'd of gotten what he'd been told to get right away. But, he did have other reasons for coming almost every night...
He put the items in one of many hidden pockets in his coat and closed and covered the safe.
Once all traces of his thievery were gone, he exited the room, not through the window, but the door leading out to the hallway. He walked silent among the shadows down a few hundred yards until he reached a door at the opposite end of the house.
He brushed off his clothes and slicked back his hair before picking the lock. He slipped in, shutting the door behind him.
"Gambit?" A quiet, feminine whisper came from the darkness of the room.
"Oui, ma petite." He flipped a light switch to reveal the pretty daughter of the man whom he'd just robbed. The reason he was taking his sweet time on this job. "Why aren't y'down at t'party?"
"I knew you'd come. I faked being sick." Her blue eyes twinkled mischievously.
"Never knew y'were such a bad girl, Felicia." He walked over to her bed, where she lay, clutching her sheets. He crawled on top of her. "Did y'miss me?"
"Yes." She whispered. Desire and need... probably a little love in her eyes.
Remy caressed her mop of blonde curls. Every time he saw her, he couldn't help but think that this is what Belle would have been like had she not been trained to be an Assassin. Sweet, demure... wonderfully sexually repressed.
He felt a little bad. With the items he'd taken tonight, his job was done. He'd be going back to New Orleans. Then to a new job... with new women at his beck and call.
Poor Felicia would, undoubtedly, be heartbroken.
He pulled the sheets from her to reveal her naked body.
Remy gave a mental shrug. He had, after all, stolen more hearts than priceless belongings. A good thief never let silly emotions get in the way. And if nothing else... Remy was a damn good thief.