"The painting costs 60 million dollars, Crystal." I held in my steps towards the exit and turned around to look at the man who was sitting with one leg over the other.
He took a big puff of his cigar before letting all the smoke out. My face visibly scrunched in disgust. I moved forward and stood in front of him with my arms crossed and eyebrow lifted upwards, paying him my full attention.
"Well, that painting costs 100 million dollars but I thought of giving you sixty percent of it." His words were fishy to my ears. Who pays 60% to a thief?!
"How should I believe you? What if you change the deal at the last moment?" I challenged him, my voice sharp with suspicion.
He chuckled before discarding his cigar in the ashtray and instructing his assistant to place the file on the table in front of me.
I opened the file and carefully scrutinized the document stating our agreement. Every line seemed meticulously detailed. After a moment's consideration, I took a deep breath and nodded in reluctant agreement. He smiled and handed me a pen to sign the document. With a heavy heart, I did so, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach. We shook hands.
I felt sick to my stomach.
Something wasn't right.
Sigh.
The things a woman has to do for luxury.
---
I swiftly descended my rope and landed gently on the ground. Switching on my night vision glasses, I scanned the museum for the painting. Having hacked the security cameras, I was confident the guards were watching a looped feed.
The perks of being a smart and an independent woman!
I combed every corner of the museum, trying to locate the painting. Where the hell did they keep it?!
I strained to remember the vague description the boss had given me: "white robe covering the painting."
How was I supposed to identify it with such scant information?!
That old hag didn't even specify.
Frustrated, I turned down another hallway, intent on finding a secret passage, when I stumbled on a carpet and collided into a wall.
I cursed under my breath as the alarm blared. Hissing through the pain in my leg, I activated my night vision glasses again and gasped at what I saw.
That leech didn't tell me this painting was enormous!
Footsteps approached, and I cursed my luck, grabbing the painting and sprinting down the hallway. Reaching my rope, I slid down with a thud, clutching the painting tightly. I quickly checked it and ran towards my car.
I still had a few minutes before the cops arrived. I secured the painting in the backseat and jumped into the driver's seat. Starting the engine, I pressed the accelerator and sped off.
I sighed in relief as I didn't see any police lights and relaxed in my seat. Switching on the radio and changing lanes on the highway, I smiled in victory. Glancing back at the painting, I noticed the robe had shifted, revealing a delicate hand holding a rose.
Turning my gaze forward, my eyes widened as I saw a speeding truck hurtling toward me, its headlights blinding my vision. I jerked the steering wheel sharply to avoid a collision.
Weakness washed over me.
Pain pounded through my body.
Liquid dripped down my head.
It was a trap.
That fucking old piece of shit.
I swore vengeance, my mind racing with thoughts of retribution. My eyelids felt heavy.
"No, no, no, Gayatri, don't close your eyes!"
Damn it.
What would I tell my ancestors, that I died from a freaking truck-kun?!!
---
HEY EVERYONE!
Introducing y'all to "HOOR"
MY second book on which I have been working for over 5 months now. 😋😋
Give it the same love, y'all showed to Tishnagi.
~Anveshnaaa
(I am just posting the prologue first.
Main content would be published after some time.)
YOU ARE READING
HOOR
Historical FictionGayatri is a skilled thief whose only goal is to become the richest person in the world. She sets her sights on stealing a famous Indian painting worth 100 million dollars. When she finally gets her hands on the painting, she is unexpectedly transp...
