"A ghost is only safe as long as she stays in the shadows. But one desperate mistake, one flickering camera, and the world's most dangerous heir has the only lead he needs to turn a haunting into a hunt."
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
I gasped, spinning around, and froze.
A security guard stood in the shadows of the doorway, his weapon leveled directly at my chest. He wasn't some clumsy night watchman; his stance was rigid, professional.
"Step away from the pedestal," he commanded. "Hands where I can see them. Now."
I didn't move. My fingers were still inches from the Star of Paris.
"I said hands up!"
He stepped into the light, that's when I noticed the censors were off. His eyes narrow with greed and curiosity. He didn't just want the arrest; he wanted the glory. He looked at my jeweled mask, his gaze lingering on the icy grey of my eyes and the dark birthmark visible through the silver mesh.
"Let's see what's behind the veil," he muttered, stepping closer. He reached out a hand, intending to rip the mask from my face.
He was fast, but I was desperate.
As his hand closed in, I dropped low. I grabbed his wrist, twisting his arm with a brutal, calculated snap. He groaned, the gun clattering to the marble floor.
I should have shot him. I should have ended the witness right there. But my mind was a fractured mess of Leo's pale face and the Broker's threats. I wasn't in the mood to add more blood to my soul tonight.
I snatched the gun off the floor so he couldn't use it, shoved the diamond into my satchel, and bolted for the heavy vault door.
"Stop!" he yelled, clutching his arm and stumbling after me.
I reached the door, my blackened-gold key already in my shaking hand. I jammed it into the lock, my mind screaming: Home. Home. Home.
I twisted. Sigh.
I threw the door open and stepped through the threshold.
The guard reached the door a second later, throwing it open with a roar—only to find himself staring back into the main gallery room he had just left. To him, I had simply stepped into a closet and vanished into thin air.
The Next Morning
I stood in my kitchen, the star of Paris sitting out the counter. I was waiting for the kettle to boil when the small TV in the corner flickered with a "Breaking News" alert.
"...A daring midnight heist at the Lumière Gallery has left French authorities baffled. The thief, dubbed 'The Ghost' by local media, managed to bypass high-level security to steal the Star of Paris..."
I froze, my hand hovering over a mug.
"The suspect made a fatal error, however. While the vault sensors were deactivated, the secondary security feed caught a clear image of her face."
The screen cut to a grainy, high-definition still. It was me. My jeweled mask was on, but the lighting was perfect. My eyes—those unmistakable, icy grey eyes—were staring directly into the camera. And right there, clear as a fingerprint, was the petal-shaped birthmark below my eye.
"No," I whispered, the mug slipping from my fingers and shattering on the floor.
I had been so panicked about Leo, so rushed to get the medicine, that I hadn't looped the digital feed. I had left a trail.
My stomach dropped. If the news had reached Paris, it was already in Italy. And if my handler saw this—if he realized I had stolen a multi-million dollar diamond for myself instead of killing Lucien De Rossi—he wouldn't just stop the medicine. He would kill us both.
I wasn't the only one watching.
Italy: De Rossi Estate
Lucien didn't usually watch the morning news. He preferred the silence of his atelier. But today, the television in his private office was on.
He sat perfectly still, a glass of dark red liquid in his hand, as the image of the "Paris Thief" filled the screen.
He stood up slowly. He walked toward the screen, his gaze locking onto the icy grey eyes in the photograph. The same eyes he had sketched a dozen times. The same eyes that had looked at him with such fierce defiance on the terrace.
The birthmark. It was her.
A slow, dark smile spread across Lucien's face—a look that was more predator than man.
"I told you I'd find you, Phoenix," he murmured to the empty room. "But I didn't think you'd make it this easy."