It Started With a Heist

Chapter 1

EMMA

"Come on, Emma. You know you can't resist a good art heist," said Eric, a mischievous grin on his face. "Plus, you've always loved Van Gogh."

Well, he wasn't wrong. But what he was asking me to do went against the plan I had set my mind to after a very long debate with the angel and devil on my shoulders.

I sighed, glancing to my left, where the little devil was practically lounging, smirking like he knew he was about to win.

After all, I did love Van Gogh...

Everything started on a moonless night in a high-security museum in Europe when two world-class thieves targeted the same pigeon-blood ruby at the same time. And instead of fighting over it, they decided to share it. And voilà, it was love at first sight—or first heist, for that matter. And from then on, they became the best partners in crime—literally and figuratively.

That was how my parents met. My dad proposed to my mother on a trip to the French Riviera with an 18th-century diamond ring that once belonged to Marie Antoinette.

Their crime spree continued until my mother found out she was pregnant with Eric. They tried to settle down. Tried being the operative word.

My parents were never meant for nine-to-five lives, and eventually, they returned to their old ways.

Eric and I grew up in a world of forged passports, go bags, and whispered plans at the kitchen table. Our parents tried to shield us from the life, give us as much normalcy as they could. But with two very sneaky kids poking their noses into everything, they realized it was impossible.

And besides, some things just run in our blood...

Eric and I were often mistaken for twins. We were close in age and looked so much alike, with our deep blue eyes and dark brown hair.

But most people never came close enough to find out how deep our differences ran.

Eric's eyes carried the warm sunlit currents of our mother's ocean blues, while mine were sharp, electric, and outlined with a black tint. My father used to say they looked like a wolf's—beautiful and dangerous.

Even our personalities were complete opposites. Eric was always a methodical, a planner who could hack into secure systems before he could learn to tie his own shoes.

Meanwhile, I thrived in chaos, always thinking on my feet, making decisions in the heat of the moment, and sweet-talking my way out of tight corners.

But together? We were a force.

When we were kids, we hacked into the database of a massive toy store and redirected shipments to foster homes across the country just before Christmas.

Sometimes, I wondered if we were on Santa's nice list that year... or his most wanted one.

Eric was also my best friend. Growing up homeschooled and always on the move, he was the only constant in my life. And so disappointing him was never something I wanted to do...

"Why even think about it?" Eric asked, a little crease forming between his eyebrows. "You know, Mom and Dad tried, and it never worked out for them. That life isn't for us, Emma."

I was beginning to regret telling him about my plan to quit the life of crime—or at least try. "Don't you feel tired, Eric? This life is a marathon, not a sprint, and you know it." I met his gaze. "One mistake, and it's game over."

He arched an eyebrow. "When did you start talking like an old lady?"

"Eric..."

"Emma. Let's be frank here for a minute. I know you better than anyone. You've always been a daredevil. You live for the thrill, for pulling off the impossible." He crossed his arms, an all-knowing look in his blue eyes. "Do you really think you can give that up and live as a muzzled wolf that tries to play nice with golden retrievers and German shepherds?"