It Started With a Heist

Chapter 18

EMMA

With every detail we mapped out, I saw just how reckless I had been last time. Walking in blind, unprepared—it was a miracle I had made it out alive.

Whenever I pulled some insanely brazen move during a con or heist, Eric used to say I was like a cat with nine lives. But now, I couldn't help but wonder how many of those lives I had left. Probably not many.

But Declan's murder and Eric's close call with getting arrested had affected me more than I wanted to admit. Maybe I should have listened to Eric and taken some time away from New York, cleared my head, instead of gambling with a lengthy prison sentence—or worse.

But this time, I felt optimistic. We had planned everything to the last detail, and Eric had already hacked into the system with a phishing email that mimicked their IT department's communications flawlessly.

I was confident we would find something—anything—in Vitale's office, either in his safe or on his computer, which Eric would take care of.

With everything in place, we were ready to meet the real estate agent again, slipping into our roles as a wealthy couple searching for their dream home.

Vitale was still overseas on business, but he was scheduled to return to the States in just two days. We were lucky Mr. Davis had been able to squeeze us into his schedule before that.

Eric and I walked side by side toward the conference room where Mr. Davis was waiting.

Eric looked sharp in a designer suit, the black wig and oversized glasses altering his usual sharp features. I was dressed in an expensive jumpsuit, my long blonde wig—Clara's signature—framing my face. Eric carried a sleek briefcase, packed with everything we needed for our plan.

As we approached the conference room, Eric and I exchanged a knowing glance before stepping inside.

Mr. Davis greeted us with a wide smile and pulled me into a brief hug. "Clara! Wonderful to see you again." He turned to Eric and shook his hand. "And Mr. Carrington, I'm glad you could join us."

Eric, looking unimpressed, flashed him a quick smile before checking his watch. "Yes, but I'm short on time. Shall we get started?"

For a moment, Mr. Davis looked like someone had popped his balloon, but he quickly recovered, offering another enthusiastic nod. "Of course, of course." He pulled out a chair for me before sitting down himself.

"I've selected some of our finest properties for you to consider," Mr. Davis said as he started a slideshow on the screen.

We feigned interest as he cycled through images of sprawling estates and high-rise penthouses, each more extravagant than the last.

Pausing on a particularly sleek penthouse with floor-to-ceiling windows and a rooftop infinity pool, Mr. Davis smiled proudly. "This one boasts breathtaking views of Central Park and top-tier luxury amenities. Truly the epitome of upscale living."

Eric barely glanced at the screen. "It's nice. But does it come with a wine cellar and a private bowling alley? We need something that stands out. Something... unique."

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing as Mr. Davis paled for what felt like the hundredth time.

Clearing his throat, he forced a smile. "Ah, well, we can certainly discuss customizations. Many of our properties can be tailored to meet your exact specifications."

Eric and I shared a knowing look before I leaned forward, tilting my head. "Oh, what about a helipad? We can't be expected to deal with city traffic, you know."