In Too Deep

Twenty Nine

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Nova glanced around the space they were turning into a gallery, and she couldn't help but grin. There was a lot of preparation still to be done before their guests started arriving, but things were shaping up, and she was so excited and nervous to hold what would be considered one of the biggest scams ever seen.

She whirled her head around at the tinkle of the bell that sounded every time anyone came into the gallery. Screw walked through the door, ignoring Vicious' people buzzing about everywhere and came straight for her. Nova whistled, roaming her eyes over his form that was dressed in a well-tailored suit. His hair was combed, and he was wearing a black tie with polished shoes.

"What do you think?" He spun around for her to admire, adding a few dance moves that made her erupt with laughter.

"On your way to steal my heart," she answered with a slow whistle, looking him up and down.

Screw gasped and placed his palm over his heart. "Oh, please, ma, don't put that flame on me." She laughed while he grinned. "So, do you think I nailed the rich guy look? If I'm gonna pose as a rich man, I gotta do it right."

"Yeah, you look like your pockets are heavy."

He tipped his head. "Good. How long do you think before you finish setting up everything?"

Nova glanced around the large white space. Vicious' men were still in the process of setting up, and two paintings still rested against the wall, and four others were still in the back room. She grabbed Screw's arm and walked him over to the arts on the wall.

"Tell me if you think they look real."

"They look like ordinary paintings to me, but then again, I don't know much about art. You gotta stop worrying, ma. Everything is gonna go according to plan, and we're gonna milk some motherfuckers. After that, it's me and some good expensive bottle." He winked at her.

She chuckled, and a layer of stress lifted from her body. He was right. There was no need to start panicking. Their paintings would get sold out, and they would wipe every traces of them ever being here and then plan their next auction in a completely different place and with a completely different set of people. She trusted Vicious guts. She trusted her guts too. Well, sometimes.

An hour later, Riley knocked on the door to her temporary office. "You look great," he said as he stared at her. "Are you ready?"

She was as ready as she ever would be. Her red dress fitted like a glove, and her five-inch heels felt like a power source—like she was wearing weapons on her feet, and the confidence she felt hadn't been there ten minutes ago. Yes, she was ready.

Nova checked the time on her phone. Just a few more minutes before the auction opened. "Yeah, I'm ready. Is everyone in place already?"

Riley nodded.

It was her idea to bring in a few of Vicious' men to pose as wealthy men and pretend to be interested in a few paintings so that they could make the paintings seem important enough for their real guests to want to spend a lot of money for.

She and Riley strode back into the gallery space. There was a bar set up and a tray of champagne glasses that had already been poured. Two other women were brought in too, but they weren't part of Vicious' gang. Their job was to stand around their station, where their artwork was hung on the walls, smiling, and helping, and pretending to know a thing about art.

For the next ten minutes, the place was crowded with at least seven people, but only four were the target tonight. Nova walked over to her first target in a well-tailored suit—a fifty-something-year-old man with grey hair and brown eyes.