The Con Artist

Sara's POV

"Look you very best. We have a gala to attend tonight."

Day one of working for Carlos Alvarez and I was already hating it.

I saw his face twist into a frown. "Is that acknowledged?"

I nodded, digging my fork into meat.

Why the hell was I having breakfast with him in the first place? Everything about this place screamed weird and even as I forced the meal down my throat, I waited for him to say it.

To say he knew I had snuck into his room and tried to steal his Rolex. Last night, I had stared at the crystal chandelier in my room, those sharp crystals no longer a marvel but now a threat, as I figured out the perfect lie to cover up for what I did.

But nothing explained it lightly. Nothing sounded convincing.

I had fallen asleep somewhere between accepting my fate and thinking of how to escape. The soft bed had carried my burdens away, enticing me into Dreamland that I didn't even hear the knock on the door.

Not until he was right over my face, crouched. His face twisted into disgust like the sight of me sleeping was an eyesore.

I had screamed when I saw his face the moment I woke up. It was like staring at hell from heaven

He straightened.

"Didn't you hear me knock?" he snapped.

I was in a lingerie for crying out loud!

Presently, I forced myself to eat breakfast. I wasn't a breakfast person. Coffee always did the trick. Helped my brain stay active. That was how you have a successful day.

But this meal...it was like a last supper. A supper that came in the morning. A beautiful way to depict my glorious life coming to an untimely end. The meat was exquisite, but it tasted like dread. I could already picture Pat's smug face when Carlos sentenced me.

And my twins-?

"Don't you like meat?" his voice cut through my spiraling thoughts.

I dropped the fork startled by the sound invading my thoughts and stared at him.

"Pardon?"

"Are you a vegetarian?"

I nodded and shook my head, flustered.

"I mean...it's lovely. But I love a good cup of coffee to start my morning. But this is fine all the same."

He listened to what I had said - supposedly. Nodded. And then continued eating.

"You need good food for the brain," he finally spoke. "Makes you smart."

My school of thought was: it made one dull. Maybe the morning cups of coffee that he missed was the reason I was still alive.

I forced a smile and choked down a handful.

Yummy.

Yuck!

The agonizing breakfast was over and somehow I was still alive. Carlos hadn't mentioned anything about a break in.

My date with Thomas Grey was in a few days. I was going to hand over the receipts, and for his sake, they had better be good enough because I was so done with the Irene Peters act.

Aside from barging into my space, being Carlos' personal assistant came with some perks. I was free all morning, sitting in my room, and letting my mind wander off.

I thought of all the possibilities. A city far away from here. Two million dollars in hand. Endless luxuries.

Sure. I would quit conning and start a business. My past would remain right here in this city, whispered by its billionaires.

Evelyn Rodriguez, the legend.

Afternoon came by and I did a bit of mundane paper work. Nothing really much that would be of interest to my partner in crime. They were mostly formal invitations to his grand opening in months.

We all knew the truth though.

Carlos Alvarez already had an operational illegal business right here in this city. And the launching of a company was a needless distraction.

Needless, I say, because the cops were certainly aware of the underground activities of the mafia guy. I watched a lot of movies to know how it worked.

The hours stretched into evening when I was supposed to prepare for the gala. I had a short nap and was up before he barged into my room again.

I would have thought about making a statement with my outfit tonight if I wasn't sticking to being Irene.

A black gown never goes wrong. And pearl necklaces should be in every girl's collection. Everything was perfect. Everything but my damned black wig which I couldn't toss away.

I brushed the stubborn fringe and gathered the rest of the hair into a bun. A little spritz of perfume and a cheap lipgloss for effect.

I was ready.

Irene Peters stared at me through the reflection like Cinderella in a ball gown. I gave her a cheeky smile and exited the room.

I could perceive Carlos' cologne from a mile. Creed aventus. One of the very best. He stood in the hallway, barking commands to the other end of his call. The moment I stepped in, he stopped.

It was certainly not because I was breathtaking.

"Perfect," he said.

I smiled meekly.

The limo was waiting outside. We got in and it was a quiet ride to the venue. Even though I caught his gaze quite a few times. On me..

Maybe it was those damned fringes again.

City hall was where the limo stopped. Of course, I knew the place. I have been here twice. And each visit to this place enlarged my bank account. This was where I had met Charles Baker and Edward Marshal.

And tonight, I hoped I wouldn't be bumping into them. Or, at least, they wouldn't be recognising me. Carlos was lost in the crowd the moment he left the red carpet and paparazzi. I eyed the cameras, longing for the recognition the men and women got.

But alas for me. I was just a personal assistant.

At the very least, I could have a flute of champagne. I grabbed one from a walking waitress and settled in a space far from the crowd, afraid that I might be tempted to switch roles if I see a good catch.

I was on my phone when I heard a familiar voice shattered my calm.

"Evelyn?" It said."Evelyn. It is you."

I tightened my grip on my phone, face paling, refusing to look up. I knew who it was already. Charles Baker. I had swindled a lot of cash from him. And even if he had forgiven me, Carlos couldn't know about it.

I bit my lips, tasting blood and regret.