It Started With a Heist

Chapter 15

EMMA

In our world, loyalty is worthless. Faith is dead. It all comes down to you and the people you want something from. And the ultimate question is—can you outsmart them before they outsmart you?

I have always been good at this, too good. I have lied, cheated, and used people for my own gain. And I rarely ever felt guilty about it.

It was never personal, just a game of winners and losers, of walking away with a hefty score and proving that I was the smartest in the room.

And every time, I tried to convince myself that in the end, nobody really got hurt. My marks were almost always filthy rich people who would barely notice the loss, perhaps only a slight bruise to their ego.

But now, this game was on a whole different level. I knew I was hurting someone deeply, and if I kept going, I would have to deliver a fatal blow.

Yet, I knew I couldn't back off now, especially after what happened with Eric. I was in too deep, and it was a matter of him or us...

Feeling frustrated, I put down my brush and palette, then quickly ripped the paper out of my sketchbook and threw it in the trash.

Painting has always been my go-to for clearing my head. Today, I really needed to clear my mind because I had plans to meet up with Jake in a few hours. Unfortunately, ever since the close call that almost landed Eric in jail, I haven't been able to finish a single painting, not even a doodle.

Every time I tried to paint, the result turned out to be a mess, as if it mirrored the mayhem inside my head.

The only thing I could actually sketch actually was a certain pair of jade eyes that somehow kept finding their way onto my canvas.

I sighed. I was going crazy. There was no doubt about it. And right now, I was grateful that Eric wasn't here to rub it in my face.

Speaking of Eric, he was in shock and overwhelmed by both guilt and anger after what happened. He couldn't believe that Jake had outsmarted him, and he couldn't take me telling him, "I told you so," even if I never said it out loud.

Seeking some time away from New York, he decided to travel to Greece, where my parents were currently sojourning, in order to clear his head and get back into the game.

Although he invited me to join him, I declined because I knew that if I suddenly disappeared, Jake would become suspicious and eventually figure everything out.

Eric had underestimated Jake, and now he was left to lick his wounds. But I always knew Jake was a wild card from the moment I met him on the Met's roof.

Glancing at the clock, I let out a sigh and realized it was time to get ready. I still had to shower to wash off the paint stains, and I promised Jake I'd meet him in Brooklyn for a change, so I needed to catch the subway as I was in no mood to drive.

Since today was a Saturday and the day was still young, I opted for a more casual outfit. I put on black pants and a black tank top and threw on a white shirt to break the monotony. After putting on some simple makeup, I was ready to head out of the penthouse.

I walked to the nearest subway station and bought a ticket. The train was crowded, but I managed to find a seat. My mind kept wandering back to Jake, feeling a jumble of emotions—confusion and anxiety swirling around. I had no clue if he had something important to share with me or if he simply wanted to see me.

My plan was to make him open up to me and trust me, and for that to happen, he had to fall for me one way or another. So did that actually begin to happen?