Riches: Snog, Steal and Burn
The beach read just got bigger! The globe-trotting, back-stabbing, boy-snaring, snogbusting follow up to FORTUNE: THE ORIGINAL SNOGBUSTERCELINE has all of Buenos Aires – especially the boys – at her feet. She's hot, she's talented, and she has a glittering future as a fashion designer ahead of her. Well, if she can get her pushy parents off her back.JHUMPA is this close to breaking into Bollywood. She's moved out of her dad's house in Mumbai, and into an apartment paid for by her agent – she's so confident she's going to be a star that she's not looking back.LUCI has the looks and the brains. Gorgeous darling of the Tatler crowd, equally at home on a pheasant shoot or on the dancefloor, she's also studying archaeology at Oxford.Three very different girls… suddenly united by one terrible tragedy. The question is, can they solve the mystery that united their parents – a mystery that involves the most valuable jewel in the world? You wouldn't want to bet against them. Sisters might be doing it for themselves – but get them to work together, and there's nothing they can't do…
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First published in paperback in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2011
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Source ISBN: 9780007364787
Ebook Edition © 2011 ISBN: 9780007364794 Version: 2018-08-06
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thrity
Epilogue
Credits
Previously by Megan Cole
About the Publisher
Buenos Aires, Argentina.
It was the dead of night at St Winifred’s School for Girls in the Argentinean capital. The sprawling grounds lay in darkness, the historic buildings silent. On the tennis courts a lone leaf skittered along in a gentle breeze: scrape, scrape, scrape. In the skies high above, a transatlantic jet hummed quietly.
At the far side of the site, by the polo pitch that had been built especially to give the young students a taste of the country’s national sport, there was a sudden movement. A stray dog, making its escape with scraps from the kitchen bins, stopped and watched as a shadowy figure appeared on the other side of the boundary fence. They stared each other out for a moment, both unwelcome presences. The human hissed at the dog and it flattened its tail whimpering, before taking off back into the night.
The shadow put a hand on the fence and jumped over. There had been no problem sneaking past the fat guard on the gate - asleep as usual with his mouth open and a cheesy chat show blaring out of the TV in the background. The shadow curled its lips into a smile. St Winifred’s really should invest in better security. Parents spent all this money to send their little darlings here thinking they were safe, all tucked up in their dormitories. But anyone could get in here.
It really wasn’t safe.
Picking up a big black bag, the shadow started to run across the lawn. It had nearly reached the main building when suddenly the place was flooded with security lights. ‘Celine Van Der Berg!’ boomed a furious voice. ‘Stop this INSTANT!’
Celine cursed and came to a grinding halt. Her dragon of a housemistress was standing at a first floor window, her huge bulk almost filling it. Celine did a double-take - was the old bat holding a loudhailer?
‘Stay right there!’ Mrs Gonzales boomed. ‘Don’t move an inch!’
Celine rolled her eyes. So much for her quiet return. One by one lights started to flicker on and a minute later the front door to the boarding house burst open.
Mrs Gonzales bustled out, looking like a big pink tank in her hideous dressing gown. ‘What do you think you’re doing? It’s three o’clock in the morning!’ Her fury abated for a second to take in the asymmetric mini dress Celine was wearing - PVC, black and artfully cut off one shoulder. Most definitely not the regulation sludge brown of St Winifred’s. ‘And what on earth are you wearing?’ she gasped.
Celine did a little turn, perfectly copied from the catwalk. ‘Nice, huh? I made it myself.’
‘You look like a slut!’ Mrs Gonzales’s nostrils flared. ‘How dare you sneak off school premises? You’re in big trouble, young lady.’
Celine yawned. ‘So everyone keeps telling me.’
The housemistress grabbed her arm. ‘Headmistress’s office, now. I’ve informed Miss Ramone and she is most displeased.’ She smiled nastily. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if she expels you this time, Van Der Berg.’
