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?

In some of my past cons, a lot of guys caught feelings for me. But whenever that happened, I made sure to keep my distance and maybe act a little hard to get. It usually worked like a charm—those guys would go above and beyond to win me over and help me finish the job quicker. But there was another reason for doing it—I never wanted to break anyone's heart.

I loved playing games, no doubt about it. But emotions and hearts should never be part of any game. With Jake, though, I knew things were different right from the start. I could tell the game was going to get intense, maybe even brutal.

And lately, I've been feeling something weird, something I can't quite put my finger on. It was making me question my motives, my actions, everything. Was it guilt? Regret? Compassion? Or something even worse. I had no idea.

Letting out a sigh, I tried to push those thoughts to the back of my mind. I glanced at my phone and saw a text from Jake. He said he was already at the restaurant where we were supposed to meet, and that he had reserved a table for two. He also mentioned how excited he was to see me.

I got off the train and followed the signs to the exit. I walked along the sidewalk, heading for "Grimaldi's Pizzeria."

Well, at least the good food might‌ help distract me from the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. Or so I hoped...

I crossed the street and entered the restaurant. I scanned the place, looking for him. He was sitting at a corner table. His gray sweater hugged his well-defined body, while his jeans and olive-field jacket added a touch of ruggedness to his appearance.

He glanced up and spotted me, and I saw his green eyes light up. He smiled and waved.

Despite my nervousness, the smile came to me naturally as I walked toward him.

He stood up and greeted me with a hug. "You look beautiful."

I blushed and thanked him. He pulled out a chair for me and I sat down. He sat across from me and handed me a menu.

"Welcome to Grimaldi's. The best pizza in New York."

"I never tried it during all my time in New York, and just the smell tells me I was missing out," I casually said, trying to stay focused and not let my mind wander to dangerous places while I was with him.

"Well, then you're in for a treat. Trust me, this pizza is worth every calorie." He grinned at me.

As we waited for our food, we casually conversed, discussing our favorite spots in Brooklyn. Jake talked about his time at Quantico and when he first moved to the city. He also asked about my job applications and how my art was coming along.

As we talked, I caught myself constantly stealing glances at Jake's eyes. It was no wonder why they always found their way to my canvas.

The spring sun reflected from the glass window was making them sparkle, and I couldn't help but admire how handsome he was, and how easy it was to talk to him.

"Ready to walk off this pizza?" Jake asked with a smile when we were done eating.

I agreed, and we left the warmth of the pizzeria for the vibrant streets outside and began making our way toward the river.

We chatted effortlessly, enjoying the gentle spring breeze on our faces. The sun cast a warm glow on the historic cobblestone streets of Dumbo, with the Manhattan Bridge towering above us with its elegant arches. Birds chirped from the nearby Brooklyn Bridge Park, adding to the charm of the neighborhood.

The atmosphere was perfect, and I felt myself loosening up. For a moment, I forgot about all my worries and troubles, as if they had locked themselves in some dungeon in the back of my mind. But I forced myself to let them out again, reminding myself that any fake sense of security around Jake could mean the end of both me and Eric.

As I was scolding myself, a family of four stopped us, their camera in hand.

"Excuse me, could you please take a picture of us?" asked the dad with a thick French accent.

"Of course, no problem," I said, taking the camera from him.

They flashed me a grateful smile and positioned themselves at the railing.

Stepping back, I framed the shot, capturing the stunning Brooklyn Bridge and the river behind them. I counted to three and snapped the picture.

"Voilà, c'est très joli," I said, handing the camera back to the dad. "There you go. It's beautiful."

The dad beamed when he heard me speaking French and thanked me. He then showed the picture to his wife and kids, who nodded and smiled in approval.

The youngest, a cute little girl with blonde curls and blue eyes, stared at me with curiosity.

I crouched down and chatted with her in French, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Jake leaning on the railing, smiling at us.

Something I said made the little girl giggle, and she leaned in to whisper in my ear. I chuckled and motioned for Jake to come closer.

"She wants to tell you something," I said to him.

Jake also got down on his knees to be at the girl's eye level.

The girl blushed and said, "Tu as un beau sourire."

"She said, 'You have a beautiful smile,'" I translated for Jake.

Jake laughed and gave the girl a playful salute, treating her like a princess, and said, "Merci."

The girl giggled and blushed even more. Then she hugged me tightly and waved at Jake before rejoining her parents.

"You speak French?" Jake asked when we were alone again.

"Come on, Jake. I told you I traveled most of the world," I replied with a slight grin. "I can speak six languages."

"Impressive," he said, smiling and shaking his head. "You also have a way with people. Very charming."

Despite myself, my smile faltered a little. Well, Jake, of course, I have a way with people. I'm a con artist.

"And watching you with that little one was absolutely adorable," he continued. He paused for a moment, his eyes drifting toward the shimmering water. "This whole encounter actually got me thinking about the future. Have you ever considered what kind of family life you might want down the road?"

His words froze my thoughts in place. Family?

How could I explain to him that I believed family was a myth for people like us? Sure, my parents might have made it work—for the most part. But I never wanted to commit to someone and have kids who would grow up in a world of lies, and then raise them to be the next world's finest criminals.

I knew my parents did their best with me and Eric, yet I learned along the way that the best didn't always mean it was the right thing. Even if I somehow had the normal life I wanted, I knew my past would always haunt me, like the Grim Reaper, waiting to get me.

And even if I somehow escaped the ghosts of my past, I didn't believe I could fall in love again. The one time I did nearly broke me and I wasn't ready to let myself be open and vulnerable with anyone again.

Clearing my throat, I forced on a smile and tried to add a little humor to my tone. "What? Is it going to be another round of 20 questions?"

Jake let out a small laugh and shook his head. "It's just that with my best friend tying the knot soon, the whole 'future' chat has been inescapable lately," he said. "According to everyone, I'm apparently a lost cause, as I'm already married to the job.

"And I guess they're right. I can't remember the last time I tried pausing for a while to allow myself to get involved in a serious relationship."

Jake's words hung in the air, carrying a weight that surprised me. I saw vulnerability flicker across his face, which differed totally from his usual laid-back attitude.

I acted as if I was straightening my shirt and took some time to think of an answer. "I can see how that would be... overwhelming," I said, carefully choosing my words. "Especially if everyone around you seems to be settling down."

"But," I added softly, "maybe 'married to the job' isn't such a bad thing. It shows dedication, a strong work ethic. Qualities that are admirable, wouldn't you agree?"

A smile tugged at the corner of Jake's lips as he met my gaze. "It's definitely not a bad thing. But there's more to life than just work, right?"

"Well, yeah." I shrugged. "But to answer your previous question, I think family requires commitment, and commitment is something people seem to take lightly."

Jake furrowed a little. "So, forever isn't something you believe in?"

Something about Jake's question, perhaps the unexpected directness, caught me off guard. I bit my lip, surprised by the truth he seemed to pull from me.

"Forever is a beautiful concept. But sometimes, life..." I trailed off, my gaze drifting to the happy family, then back to Jake. "It doesn't always cooperate."

Gesturing toward the French family, I continued, "Families, they look perfect in pictures, like something out of a postcard. But in real life... well, it's not always picture perfect."

"True, life's messier." Jake nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. "But it can also be beautiful. What's your take on marriage, then?"

"Marriage..." I paused as I thought about all the relationships I have seen getting destroyed throughout my life, because of jealousy, unfaithfulness, mistrust—the reasons were endless. And sometimes all it took was just a little greed.

"...is like building a sandcastle," I continued. "It may look perfect for a while, but a single wave can wash it all away."

Jake tilted his head slightly, as if trying to read me. "You once said that you didn't believe in true love. Something happened, didn't it? I think you built those walls for a reason."

I felt pain threatening to stab its way in as his words brought back memories I had buried deep inside. The face of the man I once thought was the one flashed in my mind, and I quickly pushed it away. I couldn't afford to be vulnerable right now.

I cleared my throat and gave him a small smile that I knew didn't reach my eyes. "Let's just say I believed in 'forever' once. Turns out, forever has an expiration date."

Jake's expression softened, his eyes filling with understanding. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said gently. "But shutting people out won't protect you from pain, either."

I shrugged, trying to sound casual. "I get that pain is inevitable. But I think the problem is, when people fall in love, they forget that love and pain come in one package."

"True," Jake said, his gaze holding mine. "I may not be the perfect role model to offer relationship advice. But... I think it's okay to still want love. And it's okay to rebuild that sandcastle, even if it crumbles a hundred times."

A faint smile touched my lips. "You're an optimist, Jake," I said, a hint of genuine amusement in my voice. "Let's see if life can live up to that optimism."

He grinned. "Life surprises us sometimes, especially when we least expect it. Maybe it has something extraordinary in store for you."

I raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk making its way to my lips. "Extraordinary, huh? I'll believe it when I see it."

Jake's eyes sparkled a little. "Challenge accepted."

It felt as if time had frozen, and I found myself unable to move or take my eyes off Jake, who continued to smile. I had never been at a loss for words before, but this was one of those rare moments when a con artist was left fumbling for words.

Jake seemed to notice the shift in the mood and broke the silence. "How about we catch the ferry?" he suggested, gesturing toward the water. "It's a great way to see the city from a different angle, and it's almost sunset."

I nodded, snapping out of my trance. "Yeah, that sounds like a great idea."

We made our way to the dock and the East River Ferry quickly became our escape from the busy city. As we boarded, Jake took my hand to help me onto the ferry and then led me to a relatively quiet place near the railing.

As our fingers intertwined, a wave of warmth washed over me, quickly followed by a rush of confusion. I tried to ignore the pounding in my chest and focused on the beautiful mix of sounds around me—the gentle splashing of the water against the ferry, the distant cries of seagulls, and the occasional horn of a passing boat.

Then we watched as the sun performed its last act for the day, dipping below the city. The sky exploded in a fiery dance of orange and pink. The iconic skyline looked even more stunning as the glass and steel buildings caught the last rays, shining like gold. And even the East River, usually a bustling gray, came to life as it reflected the magical colors in its waters.

I glanced over at Jake. He was gazing out at the horizon, his hair tousled by the breeze, which gave him a captivating look. A casual smile played on his lips, but I could feel the tension lurking beneath the surface. It had been there all day.

After years of being a con artist, I had become pretty good at reading people like him. There was definitely something he was hiding, something that had been bugging him since we first met at the pizzeria. We had a good time sharing laughs and jokes, but there was still something off about his demeanor.

"So," I said, breaking the silence. "I can't help but notice that you're not really yourself today. Is everything alright, Jake?" The genuine concern in my voice surprised me.

Surprise flickered across his face, the mask he'd worn all day slipping ever so slightly. He let out a long sigh, leaning heavily against the railing. "Work's been... rough lately," he admitted.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, keeping my fingers crossed.

"Remember when I mentioned a breakthrough in my investigation?"

My heart skipped a beat. "Yeah," I muttered, silently praying that my voice wouldn't give away my growing panic. "I hope it went well."

A humorless laugh escaped Jake's lips. "Hardly. Went completely south, actually." He shook his head and his eyes turned a shade darker. "Every time I think I'm close to catching those behind the Met heist, I hit a dead end. They're always one step ahead."

The cacophony of city sounds all blended together and slowly faded away, leaving only the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. So close. He was so close.

"And the worst part," Jake continued, his voice low and deadly, "someone paid the price for my mistake. With his life."

Jake looked out at the water, but I could still see the veins in his neck bulging as his fists clenched around the railing.

He was angry and hurt, and I felt relieved that he couldn't see my face. If he had, he would have witnessed the horror in my eyes. And the guilt...

Someone died. Because of us.

A physical blow couldn't have landed harder. Why? Why would this happen when the operation supposedly targeted Eric, who never even showed up?

And who was the victim? Who else was caught in this web of lies that we had woven?

My eyes widened as realization dawned upon me. Jake could have never gotten to Eric without going through a certain someone first. Declan.

"W—who was it?" I asked, my voice rough with a sudden need for assurance. "Someone from your team?"

Desperately, I wished for words that would undo this tragedy, for Jake to reassure me I got it all wrong. That nobody died.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, then shook his head slowly. "No, he was my CI—confidential informant," he said. "He was supposed to help me catch the rest of the criminals, but someone got to him in protective custody. The very person I swore to protect him from."

He looked at me, and I saw a storm of emotions in his green eyes. Anger. Grief. Guilt. And above all, determination.

My mind was spinning with thoughts so intense that I felt dizzy. I leaned on the railing to steady myself and tried to hide the turmoil inside me from showing on my face.

There was no doubt left. Declan was dead. And I knew who had killed him.

Vitale.

I looked down at my hands, clenched into fists. I imagined I saw blood on them. Declan's blood.

How did it come to this? This was never supposed to happen. No one was supposed to get hurt.

At that moment, I wanted to scream, to smash something, to confess everything to Jake and let him take me to jail. Part of me felt I deserved it.

But I did the opposite. I reached out and touched Jake's arm gently, hoping he wouldn't notice my nervousness. "Jake, I'm so sorry. It's not your fault. I'm sure you did everything you could to help him."

He gave me a weak smile, but I saw the doubt in his eyes. "Thanks, Emma. And I'm sorry for dumping all this on you, but you just make it so easy for me to open up."

I felt sick. God, Jake, you're making this too hard.

I plastered a smile on my face, guilt gnawing at my insides. "You're a good person, Jake. And a good agent, I'm sure."

We stood in silence for a while, pretending to admire the glittering skyscrapers, while our minds were filled with conflicting thoughts. I was sure Jake's thoughts were revolving around how to catch me, while mine were about how to con him and get away with it.

"So, um..." Jake finally broke the silence. "I know I just killed the mood, but there's something I wanted to ask you all day."

"Go on," I said, bracing myself for the unknown.

He hesitated and looked a little nervous. "Well, I was wondering if you would come with me to my best friend's wedding. He's getting married next week and I'm the best man."

The smile I had plastered on my face crumbled. His eyes shone with such hope, such sincere trust, that it felt like a punch in the gut. Fear, guilt, and regret churned inside me, a torturous mix. Every part of me wanted to run away from him, to end all this madness.

But running wasn't an option. Not now.

With a fake cheerfulness, I said, "Jake, that's very sweet of you. I'm flattered. Of course, I'd love to go."

A real smile lit up his face. "That's wonderful. Thank you, Emma."

He closed the gap between us and his lips brushed against my cheek, gentle and warm, sending a jolt of electricity through my veins. My heart fluttered in my chest, as if trying to escape its cage.

He pulled back, his gaze flickering between my eyes and lips, a silent question hanging in the air. It was an invitation, a plea for more, a surrender I wasn't sure I could risk.

And to my surprise, my body was screaming at me to give him what he wanted, to let go of my tangled mess and lose myself in him.

But then I remembered. I remembered why I was here. I remembered what I had done. I remembered what I had to do.

"It's late, isn't it?" I said quickly, hoping to break the tension. "And cold. We should probably head home. Don't you think?"

Then I tried to lighten up the mood a little to save both of us the awkwardness. "Besides, now I have to come up with the perfect dress for the wedding. I need to make sure I'll look my best to be the perfect plus-one for the best man."

He gave me a small smile and nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Let's go home."

Jake offered to drive me home, but I insisted on taking the subway. I needed to get away from him because the hurricane of thoughts going through my mind was about to hit in full force at any moment. And I wasn't sure how things would turn out if he was nearby.

On my way home, I couldn't stop thinking about the heist, what Eric did, and my own decision to get closer to Jake.

The plan was for Jake to trust me, open up to me, maybe even fall for me, but I didn't think about what came after that.

Now, I had absolutely no clue what to do or how to end this. I only knew that I was in trouble. Big trouble.

And why did the thought of hurting Jake make me sick to my stomach?

And why couldn't I stop thinking about that moment on the ferry? That moment when our eyes met, and everything else faded away. That moment when I felt something stir in me, something that I couldn't explain. Something that I didn't want to admit.

It was nothing. It had to be nothing, just a trick of the light or a spark of adrenaline, a mere side effect of the job.

I couldn't accept that it was real, it simply couldn't be.

And then my thoughts wandered to the other lurking dangers that could sweep through, obliterating everything in their path.

The dangers of Jake finding out everything, of prison, and of someone else getting hurt.

But the biggest danger of all was Vitale. I knew he would do everything to keep himself safe. And that included getting rid of all kinds of obstacles. Eric, me, and even Jake.

And so by the time I got home, I had made up my mind.

Vitale had to go down.