The Con Artist

Sara's POV

Lying on the soft plush bed didn't make the thought of seeing that sniper all so scary anymore.

If anything, I knew I was safely guarded.

It's not everyday you see a billionaire with a hired sniper.

And the cherry on top?

I had just strutted before the mirror in ten luxurious dresses, each one a masterpiece from Elysian Court. Maybe working for a mafia boss had its perks.

I was beyond thrilled. My eyes moved to the ceiling. No more the squeaky noise of Sean's fan. The ceiling had nothing but a big chandelier. One that was adorned with precious crystals..

I was sure they would fetch a fortune.

My phone buzzed beside me and I hoped it wasn't Thomas. He wasn't turning me into the canary that would serenade him to sleep now, was he?

It was Sean.

"Babe," his masculine voice filled my ear.

But his masculinity had not been able to afford me this life. Sean had been a part of my life when I was struggling. A sudden orphan with no roof above her head. He had taken me in, and maybe, in the beginning I had fallen in love. But our relationship was scarcely about love these days.

It was survival.

"When will you be back?" He continued when I didn't respond.

His question made me snort.

Back? Never.

He could enjoy the hotel room for the six days left, and hopefully, my sponsor wouldn't come knocking.

"You deal with Trey if he comes, okay?" I said, reeling with excitement.

"Deal with -? What do you mean? Where the hell are you? You promised some fun tonight."

"You'll still have some fun, Sean," I shot back. "You get the whole room to yourself. No lady would reject a man who's in a lounge. You can get one for six days or one for each day."

"Where the fuck are you?!"

I stood up and sauntered towards the welcome bottle of wine Pat had dropped before leaving, my feet soft against the warm rug lying on the floor. It had been a great joy seeing her scowl while she served me.

Now she knew my place.

I uncorked it while Sean waited for a response. He must have heard the pouring glug of the rich liquid because his tone shifted.

"You're still at Alvarez's?"

I set down the cup with a dramatic sigh. At least, in this space - my space - I can live my dream life.

"Where else would I be, Sean? In your rusty apartment?"

I could see him shaking his head and biting his lower lips. He always does that when he thinks I'm making a mistake - which I was sure is going through his mind presently.

"You're making a mistake, Sara-"

"It's Irene," I fired. "Don't ruin this for me."

"How much is he paying you to accept to stay in his house?"

About that...

I eyed the contract letter that was now resting on a table. Earlier, it had arrived with my bottle of wine. And the only fascinating thing there was the figures.

I threw my head to the head rest of the chair and crossed my leg. I could assume at night that I was actually a sore heir, having the time of her life. With a private sniper to safeguard me. A gift from my father.

"You have no idea," I purred.

"Tell me," he insisted. "We're business partners after all, aren't we?"

I shot up. "Guess."

"I expect nothing but a thousand."

I drew circles on the table with a satisfying smile plastered on my face. "You would want to add an 's' to that, Sean. Did you see the pictures I sent this afternoon?"

Of course. I couldn't relish my perfect outlook this afternoon alone. I had to send a few to Sean. If I operated a social media account - which I didn't; rule of being a successful con artist - I would have posted a few.

You either be an influencer or a con artist.

And influencers are the ones jumping off roofs daily. I'd pass.

"I see why you don't want to leave."

His tone had changed suddenly. Sean was always...Sean.

"Not like I had a choice," I said. "Carlos wants me here. And yes, he told me to address him as Carlos."

"Well, don't you dare get a Carlos baby."

I choked on the drink in my mood, spluttering.

"What's that supposed to mean.?"

"Well ...you're looking all hot and staying under his roof. It took you one night to carry Thomas's kids, didn't it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Your mouth will put you in a big mess, Sean. Why am I stuck with you?"

"I'm like that toxic boyfriend you can't leave because you love chaos."

I scoffed. "No, Sean. At this point, I'm the toxic one and you're the one who can't leave."

"You're toxic, Sara. I agree."

"Irene Peters to you, Sean."

I stood up and walked to the bed. Falling on it was like falling into clouds.

"Goodnight, Sean. Make sure you enjoy that hotel room because you won't be seeing another one until this..." I lowered my voice. "...mission is over."

"Just don't sleep with Mr. Alvarez. It always starts with calling them by their first name."

I rolled my eyes. "Just like I have you baby, Sean."

"You would never have a baby for a poor man."

"My ovaries reject poverty, Sean."

I ended the call and stared at the chandelier's prisms. And then I realised. Carlos had mentioned something about a shipment and he wasn't back home.

This was the right time to start shuffling throughout the house. Carlos was away, slicing life out of some good and bad boys. And Pat was home, sulking.

All that was left here was a watchful sniper.

He couldn't be that dangerous now, could he?