"Alexander Hunter!" I yelled at Eric. "You fucking sold the painting to Alexander Hunter!"

I just knew that my brother sold the freaking painting to one of the most dangerous men in the black market and obviously, I wasn't okay with it.

"Well," he started to say. "He was the one willing to pay more."

"Oh really, you weren't satisfied with four freaking millions?" I asked, waving my hands in frustration.

"It's not only that, Emma," Eric sighed.

"Enlighten me, please," I snapped angrily, crossing my arms.

"With the FBI being so close, I needed someone who I knew they wouldn't be able to track." Eric tried to reason up with me.

"And Hunter was your only option?" I asked with a raised eyebrow, then I sighed and my expressions softened. "Eric, he's dangerous and we aren't used to working with such kind of people."

"Don't worry, Em," Eric said, softly. "He doesn't know who I am."

I raised my eyebrow in confusion.

"I contacted him through a middleman who I even contacted through encrypted and untraceable devices," Eric explained, and I let out a breath of relief. "Even that man doesn't know my real identity."

"That was a dangerous move, Eric," I sighed.

"I know," he said. "But with the presence of your Mr. FBI Agent, I couldn't sell it to anyone who can be easily found."

God, this whole thing was going to so many different paths at once. I just wanted to stop, life wasn't fair.

"So, what now?" I asked him.

"Nothing changed, Em" He gave me a soft look. "I just told you because I didn't want to keep this from you."

"I have a bad feeling about this, Eric," I said in a serious tone.

"It's going to be okay," Eric said, trying to reassure me.

I sighed and put my head in my hands, I just wanted to clear my thoughts and have a moment of tranquility, but then, my laptop made a sound informing me that I had received an email. I huffed as I started checking the email I just received. I opened my unread emails and my eyes widened when I found out who the sender was.

It was an email from The New York Museum of Modern Art. I sent them my CV a while ago when I was thinking about having a normal life; I had no hope that I would hear back from them or that they would even bother checking my CV. It wasn't like my CV was worthless; I had a master's degree in art history, and I could speak four different languages in addition to English—perks of traveling the globe. But this was The Museum of Modern Art for crying out loud.

I hesitated a little before I opened the email. I read through it and my eyes widened again; they were informing me that my CV had impressed them and that I had a job interview for a free art history instructor job. In two days!

"What? You look pale." Eric's tone was concerned as he came and sat next to me.

"I just received an email from The Museum of Modern Art," I told him, still not taking my eye off the email.

Eric grabbed the laptop from my hands and read through the email. "This is great, Em. It's an amazing opportunity for you."

"But with everything happening, I don't know if it's a good idea," I said, hesitation starting to creep in.

"It is," Eric started. "This is a great chance for you. You have to take it, it might not come again."

I sighed, I truly didn't know what to do anymore.

"Is there anything new with that FBI agent?" Eric asked.

"Not yet," I said, uneasily. It has been a week since my last date with Jake. We had spoken a lot since that time, but no one dared to mention what was about to happen. Part of me felt bad for not kissing him and I swear if murdering that part was possible, I would have done it a long time ago. The other part of me felt huge rage upon myself for even giving the whole thing a single thought.

I felt torn, I was supposed to figure out whether I left anything that would lead the FBI to me or not and then leave as if nothing happened. I wasn't supposed to have those feelings toward him. What the hell was going on with me?

"Emma, I really think you have to finish this thing soon," Eric said, looking at me in the eye.

"I will, but at the right time," I said, calmly. Eric didn't comment, he just looked at me with eyes full of both suspicion and concern.

I didn't know if it was the case or my stupid self who didn't want to cut ties with Jake.

"You know what, I will go to that interview," I decided, changing the Jake subject. "If I really want this life, I have to start fighting for it."

Eric nodded, giving me a supportive smile.

><><><><><><><

It was the day of the interview, I wore a longsleeved chiffon white blouse and tucked it in my knee-length black pencil skirt. I put on some nude makeup. I looked at myself in the mirror for the thousandth time and sighed. Having an interview at The Museum of Modern Art was a huge deal; most people would die to get such an opportunity but I was really nervous. God, heists, and cons didn't make me nervous like this.

I grabbed my tote bag and Porsche keys before I looked at my reflection in the mirror for the last time, then I left the apartment.

It took me about thirty minutes to get to the museum. I told the receptionist my name and she smiled and led me to an elegant waiting room that had four more people waiting in it. I guessed they were the other candidates I was competing with.

There was an old man reading a newspaper, then there was a woman in her mid-thirties as I guessed; she looked at me with the bottom of her eye and I swear if we were in any other place I would have punched her in the face, but I ignored her for now. There were two other men, one at the same age as the woman I wanted to murder and the other one was around my age. The former was busy typing on his phone and the latter looked at me with a flirty smile; I threw him a look that made him tilt his head down almost immediately.

The interviewers started calling name after name until a woman came and called my name in a calm authorized tone. I stood up and fixed my skirt, then I took a deep breath before I followed after the woman to another room.

It was a huge conference room full of replicas of some famous artworks like Van Gogh, DA Vinci, Degas, Monet, and Picasso artworks. There were three people, two men and a woman sitting behind a large table. One of them noticed my presence and gestured to the chair in front of them with a smile. I gave him a polite smile before I took a seat.

"Miss Lawrence, isn't it?" the woman asked with a smile.

"Yes," I answered.

"To be honest, we were impressed with your CV and how young you are," she said looking at a file that was probably my CV. "It says that you have a master's degree in art history and that you can speak four different languages fluently other than English."

"Yes, French, Italian, German, and Spanish. I can also speak a little Greek," I said, giving them a confident smile.

"Impressive, that would be very useful with the tourists," one of the men said and the other two nodded in agreement; an act that made me smile and gain much more confidence.

The interview went like any usual interview with questions like tell us about yourself, why you would like to work with us, why we should hire you, and tell us about the artworks that inspire you. I answered all of their questions, and I made sure they were satisfied with every answer; being a world-class con artist helped me a lot in that. They told me that they would inform me about their decision later that night.

><><><><><><

I was sitting in my apartment later anxiously waiting for the email that would tell me whether I was hired or not. I heard my laptop making a sound and the screen lit up indicating that I had received a new email. I rushed to open my unread emails and it was the email I was waiting for. My heartbeats raced as I opened the email and started reading through it.

'Dear Miss Lawrence, We are pleased to inform you that you have been chosen to fill the free position in the museum of modern art. And we are delighted that you will work with us.' My eyes widened and I didn't wait to read the rest of the email.

I got hired! I felt so happy, I was going to work for The Museum of Modern Art. It was everything I have been dreaming of. I have to finish everything related to that mission, I wouldn't allow anything or anybody to deprive me of such a chance for the life I always wanted.