It Started With a Heist

Chapter 17

EMMA

The late spring sun, already hinting at the coming summer's heat, streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, warming the plush white sofa where I sat uncomfortably. Across from me, Eric, his skin a healthy tan from his impromptu Greek escape, paced the room with the restless energy of a caged panther.

"I can't believe you, Emma!" Eric exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. "You were the one who told me I was crazy for doing business with Vitale in the first place."

"Because it was crazy," I replied. "But now we have to deal with it."

"Right. So, let me get this straight. You expect us to walk right into the lion's den, and you honestly don't think we'll get mauled in the process?" Eric scoffed, disbelief clear in his voice. "I hate to burst your bubble, sis, but do you not see how insane this is?"

I crossed my arms and met his gaze. "Well, if we don't do something about him, we'll never be safe. You know that as well as I do."

Eric sighed and sank into the chair across from me. "Emma, this is suicidal. We're not talking about a few years in prison if we get caught. Vitale's men will have us swimming with the fishes in the Hudson. You've seen what he does to people who cross him."

"I know what he's capable of, Eric, and that's why I'm determined to put an end to this once and for all. He already killed Declan." I paused, biting my lip before continuing, "I—I can't help but feel that his blood is partly on our hands, too."

Eric swallowed hard but then shook his head. "We didn't pull the trigger, Em. Declan was one of Vitale's men. He knew the risks."

I sighed. "Maybe, but it doesn't change the fact that Vitale's not going to stop. He's tied to everything in this city. What guarantee do we have that he won't come after us?"

"We've got none," Eric said with a shrug. He let out a sigh and rubbed his face before locking eyes with me. "That's why I think we should get out of New York. It's getting too dangerous here. We should disappear, start fresh somewhere safe."

I felt like I had been punched in the gut. New York was my home, where I wanted to be, and where my dreams lived.

I swallowed the bile that had risen in my throat and looked down at the ground. "I had an interview, Eric," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "At the MoMA."

Surprise crossed Eric's face. "The MoMA?" he repeated. "That's amazing, Em. When was that?"

"Last week."

Eric studied me for a moment, a silent conversation passing between us.

"So, I take it that you have a plan?" he finally asked.

I met his gaze, feeling a spark of hope. "Sort of," I admitted, a newfound strength in my voice. "Last time, I was...impulsive. Didn't think things through."

Eric snorted, a hint of amusement softening his features. "When have you ever thought things through, Em?"

I smirked. "That's why we make a great team, right? I need your brilliant brain for this."

A smile tugged at the corners of Eric's lips. "Well, let's hear this 'sort of' plan of yours."

I leaned in closer. "Okay, we'll start by staking out Vitale's building again. We need to map out the security system and figure out any weak points we could leverage."

Eric nodded slowly, his brow furrowed in thought. "We also need to access their network without raising any red flags. I'll start by creating a phishing email that looks like it's from their internal IT department. If one of their employees clicks on it, it'll give me a way into their system. Once I'm in, I can install some malware to control the camera feeds and trigger a false alarm as a distraction."

I grinned, feeling relieved that Eric's plan had started working like a well-oiled machine. "Then we can go back in disguise as the wealthy couple. You know, the bride-to-be and her soon-to-be-husband thing."

Eric smirked, mischief dancing in his eyes. "Are we going to scare the real estate agent with another bathroom excuse? Maybe this time I can tell them I have a rare condition where I break out in hives if I'm away from my special soap for too long."

A genuine laugh bubbled up from my chest, perhaps the first since my botched plan.

"Alright, and what about once we're in? How do we deal with the safe?"

"I've been practicing," I replied. "It's a high-tech safe, but I found a similar model to work on."

Eric raised an eyebrow. "And if things go south?"

I shrugged, my lips forming a tight line. "We improvise. Like we always do. We're in this together. And we're getting out alive. With the evidence to put Vitale away for good."

After a long moment, Eric nodded slowly. "Alright. I'm in. But we do this smart. No more impulsive moves, Emma. We plan every detail."

I grinned and said, "Deal." Then I took a deep breath and locked eyes with Eric before whispering, "Thank you."

He held my gaze, understanding the unspoken message behind my words.

Standing up, he motioned toward the kitchen. "I'm going to grab a bottle of wine. This plan calls for something stronger than coffee."

I smiled, feeling a renewed sense of determination, and comforted that I wasn't facing this alone. With Eric by my side, I knew everything would work out in the end.