1. Kat

Chapter 1

Kat

The man in the corner won’t stop looking at me.

Five minutes.

I take a long sip of Dom Pérignon . Five more minutes, and I’m home free.

I admit this dress was a mistake. It clings to my body in all the wrong places—or, rather, all the right ones. Blending in is my top priority tonight, but the midnight blue velvet practically screams look at me .

But A.J. swore it would work. “You’ll fit in perfectly,” she’d said, practically shoving it into my hands. “Trust me. This is the dress.”

It’s beautiful, I’ll give her that. Midnight blue with a subtle shimmer—the way it glitters under the lights, catching every movement like it’s alive, makes it seem… magical. Too magical for a night like this. But magic has its price, and the dress is hotter than hell in this sticky June heat, the velvet clinging to me like a second skin.

Still, I didn’t have many options when the stronzo sprang his latest demand on me two days ago, leaving me scrambling—and seething. This dress was the only thing I had to wear on such short notice.

A.J. was right about one thing. The hidden pocket sewn just below the cleavage line makes this my best option tonight.

I take a deep breath, my heart pounding as I scan the exquisitely decorated grand hall.

The Metropolitan Museum pulled all the stops for tonight’s gala.

Rich crimson and gold floral arrangements scent the air, their fragrance mingling with hints of French perfume worn by the illustrious guests. From above, elaborate crystal chandeliers illuminate the space, casting a soft, warm glow and setting an intimate atmosphere for the party.

Nothing is too lavish for the Flame of Mir—the crown jewel of the museum’s newest exhibition.

It’s surreal that the red diamond is mere feet away, teasing me from behind high-security glass with its glittering beauty.

My prize.

Well, technically, the stronzo ’s prize—if I don’t screw this up.

As the museum director delivers the opening speech for the Sparkling Splendor exhibition, I mentally run through my plan one last time.

If all goes well, soon, he’ll finish addressing the crowd and invite them to join him at the gardens, where live entertainment and hors d’oeuvres await them.

Unfortunately, I’ve got a hot date with a certain priceless bauble.

All work and no play makes me a dull, dull girl.

When the director wraps up his speech, thanking the gem’s anonymous owner for lending it to the museum and sponsoring tonight’s festivities, I glide toward the ladies’ room, sticking to the shadows, my heels almost silent on the marble floor..

Inside, I peek under each stall door, ensuring I’m alone. No attendant, no rich girls snorting coke off the marble countertops. Maybe, just maybe, my luck is turning.

I wait inside until the noise in the hall dies down as everyone heads to the gardens.

A few heartbeats later, the first notes of a Sinatra song float back to me. A guard whistles as he locks the exhibit area, the sound grating on my already frayed nerves.

This is it. No turning back now.

I crack the door open, peeking through the gap to make sure the coast is clear. Then, I slip out of the restroom, holding my breath as I scan the area for any movement.

Stealing the world’s most famous diamond on two days’ notice would have most thieves shaking in their boots.

But I’m not most thieves.

As a matter of principle, I don’t usually tolerate blackmail or extortion. My freedom and independence mean everything to me. Well, almost everything. Some things—or people—are worth the personal sacrifice.

A little more time to prepare for tonight would’ve been nice, but you can’t always get what you want. A heist like this shouldn’t be rushed.

But no, the stronzo just had to demand the heist go down tonight, on the opening night for the Flame of Mir’s first public showing.

I’m not embarrassed to say I pride myself on being the best in my field. I didn’t attain my reputation by foolishly rushing into heists—especially not high-profile ones like this one. But hey, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

So, I did what I had to. Prepped as best I could, slipped into the gala, and put on my best ‘ yes, I belong here, why do you ask? ’ smile. With A.J.’s life on the line, I don’t have the luxury to be picky about my labor conditions. For A.J., I’d do anything.

Luckily for me—and unluckily for the mysterious owner of the Flame of Mir—tonight’s party led to the deactivation of some of the museum’s best defenses. Heaven forbid some drunk socialite trip an alarm while looking for the powder room.

The disabled laser grid around the Flame of Mir? A small miracle I plan to exploit. A highly appreciated gesture, truly—I’d rather not perform backflips in four-inch stilettos and a dress that barely lets me breathe.

I wish I could see their faces when they realize what their carelessness cost them. By all accounts, the Flame of Mir is priceless.

I discreetly reach into my bejeweled evening bag, flicking on the Security Bypass Unit—or SBU, as A.J. and I fondly call it—wirelessly interfacing it with the museum’s security systems. Courtesy of A.J.’s unrivaled genius, I have the most ingenious little gadget tonight. It’s no giant red diamond, but it’s priceless in its own right.

The SBU should take care of the pesky little cameras and sensors around the gemstone. It vibrates twice in my hand, signaling success, and I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Cameras on loop. Motion sensors dead. Now or never.

Free to work my magic unnoticed, I approach the exhibition gate, my hands steady as I work the lock, each click as familiar as my own heartbeat. Child’s play. Too easy, almost.

Anticipation thrums through my veins, and I slip inside. My heart races, a mix of champagne and adrenaline making my stomach flutter.

Almost reverently, I approach the Flame of Mir, shimmering under the soft glow of the emergency lights, daring me to come closer.

Up close, the diamond’s beauty takes my breath away. And to think that it will soon belong to the stronzo … The monster isn’t worthy.

I like to think I have very few weaknesses, but, as it happens, incomprehensibly expensive glittering jewels are one of them. But I snap out of it. Focus . The job isn’t over yet.

My heart hammers in my chest as I pick the lock securing the Flame, each calculated move echoing in the silent room. With a barely audible click, the lock yields.

Holding my breath, I lift the glass case, my hands somehow steady despite the electric thrill coursing through me.

I allow myself a moment to admire the diamond, entranced by its incandescent glow. If only we could be together forever, my beautiful, unattainable love…

But time is one of the many luxuries I currently lack, so I grab the gem, its cool and solid touch feeling almost surreal. So many have gone to incredible lengths to possess it, but for now, it’s mine.

The intoxicating thrill of the moment—the adrenaline, the danger—is a poignant reminder of why I chose this line of work, so many years ago. There’s nothing like knowing the world is mine for the taking. A very welcome sentiment in my current circumstances. Even though this unwise adventure wasn't my choice, I won't allow myself to feel powerless or helpless.

I secure my prize in the concealed pocket of my dress, and its weight against my chest reassures me. I slip back into the hall, blending into the shadows as I make my way toward the garden doors.

No one saw my daring escape.

With a sense of relief, I walk outside and am surrounded by the sounds of laughter and music as elegantly dressed guests enjoy the party. I force a relaxed smile, my heart pounding as I drift among the oblivious partygoers.

It’s the home stretch now—I can do this.

I pretend to mingle with the distinguished guests as I glance around the assembly. Accepting another glass of champagne from a server, I use it as a prop to look casual. I could never refuse some liquid courage, and the drink does wonders for my dry mouth.

In a perfect world, I’d love to linger and enjoy the soirée, people-watching while sipping cocktails. But tonight isn’t about pleasure. It’s business—and survival.

My smile deepens when I spot my escape route—a narrow service alley leading to the main street, where my getaway car awaits me.

All I have to do is reach the car, unseen and unnoticed.

This is my least favorite part of any job. Stealing a beautiful bauble from under an unsuspecting owner’s nose is fun, but making myself slowly walk away when all I want to do is run like hell is pure torture.

The subtle bulge of the Flame of Mir nestled within the fabric of my gown helps calm my nerves. The stone between my boobs is hard to forget, but it's kinda nice to see it's still there.

Time to get out of here and hand this beauty over to that gross man. Saying goodbye to the diamond will be hard, but I can't wait to have my freedom back, even if it's only temporary. Plus, it means A.J. gets to live another day. At least until the stronzo can concoct another one of his schemes.

Unless we strike first.

The diamond will buy us time to uncover the stronzo ’s secret and plot out how to give him a taste of his own medicine. I have no problem blackmailing the bastard who’s making my life a living hell.

Inch by inch, I move closer to the alleyway, the sound of laughter and music growing louder with each step.

The dance floor stands as the last obstacle in my path, and I slip on a mask of boredom as I move through the crowd. As I unhurriedly stroll past an empty table, I set down my champagne flute. It served its purpose as a prop and source of much-needed courage.

Almost home free. I sweep the crowd with a glance again—just in case.

Paranoia compels me to scan my surroundings one last time, but nobody seems to be watching me as I take the last steps toward the exit.

And that’s when I walk right into the arms of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome.