It Started With a Heist

Chapter 13

EMMA

When everything around you is so still that you can almost hear a needle dropping, that's when you know that something big is about to happen. Something that will completely shake up your life.

Just like the calm before the storm.

And I had this gut feeling that the storm was right around the corner, and once it hit, nothing was going to be the same again...

What started as "know thine enemy" turned into something I couldn't even begin to comprehend. And on top of that, Jake was one step ahead of me, and I had no clue what he was up to.

Maybe Eric was right, after all. Maybe I had bitten off more than I could chew.

Speaking about Eric. What he did felt like being stabbed in the back by a fellow soldier when I had my full concentration on the enemy lines.

I haven't yet told him that I found out he sold the painting to Vitale. A part of me was hoping he was going to come clean to me and tell me himself and the other part was just too hurt and betrayed to even talk about it, and actually, a little scared as well. I couldn't help but wonder what else he was keeping from me.

But my patience was running out, and since this was already a catch-22 situation, and I knew I might get hurt either way, then what was I waiting for?

Besides, I have never been the type to passively await the storm, surrendering to fate and ready to be swept away into oblivion.

With a surge of determination, I quickly got up from my spot on the bed and walked toward the door of my room, swinging it open. As I looked around the room, my gaze immediately landed on Eric, comfortably seated in the living room. He had his legs casually propped up on the table, with his laptop resting on his lap.

Closing the gap between me and him, I coughed to gain his attention.

He shot me a sidelong glance while still deeply engrossed in typing on his laptop.

But I could tell that his curiosity was piqued. It had been a while since I had initiated any conversation with him, and he knew I was giving him the silent treatment.

"Let me guess..." he said, the corners of his lips tugging upwards, yet he still wasn't looking at me. "Boyfriend drama?"

I could feel my anger rising, so I let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Oh, it's not my actions we're going to be discussing today."

He glanced up and locked eyes with me. It took a moment for him to grasp the seriousness of my expression. He then closed the laptop and put it away.

"Alright, Emma," he said, rubbing his palm over his face. "What is it that you're after?"

"Who did you sell the painting to, Eric?" Please, tell me the truth. I'm giving you a last chance.

I watched as he rolled his eyes. "Why are you so insistent on knowing the buyer's damn identity? He's nothing but an insanely rich dude who's probably having it hung on his insanely lavish mansion to show it off to his insanely rich pals."

His blue eyes were getting darker with every word he spat, and it made me sick.

I saw a wave of regret wash over his face. He then took a deep breath to calm down before saying, "I'm sorry, Emma. I didn't mean to yell at you, but... the whole thing is over. Why can't you just let it go?"

"Let it go?" I snapped. "You're making it sound as if we're out of the woods. Like they've given up on us and stopped digging. But, Eric, I hate to break it to you. They're still after us, just waiting to haul us off to jail. In fact, I think Jake is closer than ever."