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, fidgeting uneasily. 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!" he snapped, throwing his hands up. "You were the one who called me insane for getting involved with Vitale in the first place."

"Because it was insane," I shot back, crossing my arms. "But now we don't have a choice. We have to deal with it."

He stopped mid-pace and turned to me, one brow arched. "Let me get this straight. You want us to walk straight into the lion's den, cross our fingers, and hope we don't get mauled?"

I met his gaze with equal intensity. "If we don't act, we'll never be safe. You know that as well as I do."

Eric let out a sharp exhale and sank into the chair across from me, rubbing his temples. "Emma, this is suicidal. We're not talking about a couple of years in prison if we screw this up. Vitale's men will have us swimming with the fishes in the Hudson. You've seen what he does to people who cross him."

Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. Finally, I spoke, my voice quieter but no less determined. "He already killed Declan. We can't let him get away with it." I paused, biting my lip before adding, "And part of me feels like his blood is on our hands, too."

Eric's jaw tightened, his expression hardening. "We didn't kill him, Emma. Declan worked for Vitale—he knew the risks."

"Maybe," I muttered, holding his gaze. "But Vitale isn't going to stop. You know that. He's tied to everything in this city. Politicians, cops, criminals. If we don't stop him, he'll come after us too. It's just a matter of time."

Eric ran a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. "That's why we should get out of New York. It's too dangerous here. We disappear, start over somewhere far away."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Leaving New York felt like abandoning not just a city, but a part of myself. It was home. It was where my dreams lived.

"I had an interview," I said softly, the words slipping out before I could stop them. "At the MoMA."

Eric froze, his head snapping up. His eyes, wide with surprise, met mine. "The MoMA? When?"

"Last week."

Eric studied me for a moment, a silent conversation passing between us. Finally, he asked, "So, I take it you have a plan?"

I straightened, a flicker of hope sparking to life. "Sort of. I know I was... impulsive last time. Didn't think things through."

Eric smirked, leaning back in his chair. "You? Impulsive? Shocking."

I rolled my eyes but allowed a small grin. "That's why I need you. Your brilliant brain makes up for my... let's call it creative spontaneity."

The corner of his mouth quirked up, and the tension in the room eased just slightly. "Alright, let's hear this 'sort of' plan."

I leaned forward. "We start by staking out Vitale's building again. But this time, we do it right. Map the security system. Pinpoint the weak spots."

Eric nodded, the wheels in his mind already turning. "We'll need to get into their network. I can send a phishing email—something that looks like it's from their IT department. If someone clicks, I'll have a backdoor into their system. From there, I can install malware to control the cameras and set off a distraction."

Relief washed over me as I realized he was fully on board. "Once the cameras and alarms are handled, we go in. Bride-to-be and her fiancé, round two."

Eric smirked, a spark of mischief 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. "He was just too easy to mess with."

Eric shook his head before his expression turned serious again. "Alright, and what about once we're in? How do we deal with the safe?"

"I've been practicing," I admitted. "It's high-tech, but I've studied the model. I think I can crack it."

He 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 take Vitale down."

Eric studied me for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Alright. I'm in. But this time, we plan everything. No more impulsive moves, Emma."

I grinned. "Deal." Letting out a breath, I locked eyes with him and whispered, "Thank you."

Eric 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 watched him walk away, feeling a renewed sense of determination. With Eric by my side, maybe—just maybe—we could pull this off.