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𝐎𝐧𝐞

Florence, Italy

"Welcome to Italy, Signora."

"Thank you." Lilianna Alarie tucks the invitation into her pearly clutch, greeting the usherette with her best smile. "This way?"

"Per favore, prosegui." Please, continue. The young lady smiles warmly and gestures to the arched entrance of The Uffizi Gallery.

Even amidst a crowd adorned in lavish designer wear featuring elaborate fur coats and shimmering sequins, all eyes turn to focus on Lily as she saunters into the museum in her silk evening gown. The material is an elegant shade reminiscent of grass during spring that delicately caresses her curvy body as it cascades down to her feet, its off-shoulder design revealing the delicate lines of her collarbones and slender neck.

"Agent Alarie, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, ."

Agent Hawkings' voice crackles sightly through the earpiece concealed by Lily's hair. "You remember the rules you're supposed to follow right? You're certain you know what you're doing? We didn't have time to rehearse the plan—"

"This isn't my first time stopping an art heist, Xav." Lily scoffs, shaking her head at her boyfriend's dramatic theatrics. "We already talked about this. I know how everything works."

There's a brief pause on the other line, followed by a heavy sigh. "I know you do." Xavior admits, wryly. "I'm just worried—"

"Stop worrying then," Lily snaps, irritated. She lowers her voice when the other bidders shoot wary gazes in her direction and continues, softly. "I've got this, Tesoro. No painting is getting stolen today, not under my watch."

"I just don't want you to look uncultured and out of place, Lils." Xavier says, dismissing her reassurances. "The thief we're dealing with this time isn't like those you've caught before. He's a tenfold sharper. He's devious. He's sly. Certainly not an amateur. One hair out of place is enough to tip him off and allow him to slip out from our grasp—"

"Champagne?" A waitress asks, holding out a tray full of champagne flutes. Lily would've preferred something stronger to numb her growing migraine, but this would do. She smiles and takes two off the tray, shamelessly downing them both as soon as the waitress is out of sight.

"Look Xavier." She breathes out, cooly. "Reminding me about our enemy's superior knowledge and skill isn't helping. You're only succeeding in making me more antsy by the passing minute."

"I was trying to be realistic." Xavier mutters.

"I don't need you to be realistic, Idiota, I need you to have faith in me. Faith in the plan. Faith in us." Lily grits out, rolling her eyes upward to try and find patience weaved into the intricate architecture above. She doesn't. "Forget it, just go with the flow and focus on the case for now."

"That's what I was doing anyway."

Lily simply heaves an almighty sigh. "How's everything looking, Hawkins?"

"They're already halfway through the auction. The lower selling works have been claimed," Xavier replies without missing a beat. "There will be a short intermission while they prepare the main works to be brought out. Take a seat at the very back so you can easily blend in and observe everyone present for any suspicious activity."

Lily nods and smoothly weaves through the guests in pursuit for the last row. Once she's comfortably seated and equipped with another glass of Champagne, she lets her forest-green eyes scan the room.

The Uffizi Gallery's expansive walls, adorned with intricate molding and gilded frames, showcase a curated collection of masterpieces from various periods. The soft, ambient lighting from the crystal chandeliers above highlights the details of each artwork. The air is filled with importance and glam, punctuated only by occasional soft chattering or sounds of clinking glasses.