Page 9 of No Longer Mine (Rags & Riches #2)

Chapter Seven

Scarlett

Dimitri Cristof caught me.

Not only did he catch me, but he saw me.

This was bad.

I ran, my breath steady despite the adrenaline burning through my veins. The night air stung against my skin as I vaulted over the next rooftop, landing in a crouch before pushing forward again. The city below blurred into neon streaks, but my mind stayed razor-sharp.

Escape first. Panic later.

The moment his fingers had yanked off my ski mask, I knew I’d fucked up. I should have disappeared the second I heard his car pull up. I should have played it safe.

But no.

I had to linger.

I just had to test him.

I had to let my arrogance get the best of me.

Now, Dimitri Cristof had seen my face.

And worse? I saw how he looked at me—the sharp flicker in his icy blue eyes. Not just recognition, but curiosity.

That was dangerous.

I wasn’t here for fun. I was hired for a reason. Get in, get dirt, and take a few things for myself. Dismantle him, piece by piece, for someone else. And if I hadn’t been hired? I would have gone after him anyway.

I’d been watching him for years.

Four years ago, I saw him at a party, stumbling drunk while his father humiliated him in front of powerful men.

I watched from the shadows as Sinclair Cristof all but denounced his own son.

The way Dimitri’s posture shifted under scrutiny had caught my attention.

He went from sloppy to composed in an instant, scanning the room like a predator scenting danger.

It was the first time I’d wondered—was the drunken mess just an act?

I followed his brothers on social media, studying their friends and their habits. Dimitri was always there, always in the background—the wild card. I wanted to know if he was as reckless as he made himself out to be.

Clearly, he wasn’t.

He’d almost caught me the first time I was in his home—which never happened. And now, he’d nearly bested me the second time, all because I’d let my curiosity win.

No more.

There was no dirt on him, at least not where I was looking. His campaign was locked down tight. His best friend was the Benson Browne—a tech genius who had his hands in everything, including Dimitri’s security system.

I pulled my red hair into a knot, shoving it under my hoodie as I ducked into a side street. The subway was loud and crowded, which was exactly what I needed. It wasn’t my usual way home. But tonight? I needed to disappear.

I had my own Benson Browne, and he was waiting for me, not so patiently in his loft.

The moment I stepped into the loft, he was on me, shoving off the wall, his sharp eyes locking onto mine as he yanked my hood down.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice edged with frustration. “And you’re missing your mask. What the hell happened?”

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my pulse. My chest was still tight from the run, but it wasn’t just the exertion. It was the feeling of Dimitri’s eyes still on me, the sense that even now, he was somewhere thinking about me.

I hated it.

Oliver started pacing, jaw clenched. “You didn’t even tell me when to reactivate the security system. Twice. Twice, Scarlett. You’ve never screwed up before. Maybe it’s time we retire.”

I blinked. “Retire? I don’t want to retire.”

“Then start explaining why your identity is compromised,” he snapped.

I held up a finger. “First, I don’t wear my ski mask on the subway.”

Oliver folded his arms across his chest. “You don’t ever take the subway.”

I wagged my finger at him. “Second, I needed to switch things up tonight. Jaimie can’t always pick me up.”

That did it. He threw his hands up. “That’s why we hired a discreet driver.

If you aren’t going to use him, we need to make sure he’s taken care of so he doesn’t talk.

Financially.” He smacked his forehead with his palm.

“He drove the block for hours waiting for the call. We thought someone finally got you.”

I exhaled through my nose. Maybe it was better to just say it. “Someone almost did.”

Oliver stilled. “What?”

“He grabbed my mask,” I admitted. “Saw my face.”

A humorless chuckle slipped from his lips. “Retirement.”

“You can’t force me to retire,” I shot back.

“I quit.”

Shit.

“Fine,” I muttered, walking past him toward the small kitchen. He followed, right on my heels, waiting for an explanation I wasn’t sure I was ready to give.

“Well?” His tone was clipped. “What did you get, at least?”

I dumped the contents of my pockets onto the kitchen island—twelve big-ticket items. None of it was what our client wanted, but it was what I needed.

Cleo would sell most of it off. A few pieces I’d keep for myself.

Cleo was just another gear in our well-oiled machine. Oliver protected me digitally, Cleo sold the goods, and I found our targets. Sometimes, we would get hired through Jax to do personal hits, but they were never favorable. Whatever the buyer wanted tonight, it was useless.

But there, sitting among the watches and jewelry, was a diamond ring.

I turned it over in my fingers, sliding it onto my hand. It was a little big, but it didn’t matter. I deserved it after tonight. It was probably fake, considering it was in his bedside table drawer. Diamonds this big were usually kept under lock and key.

The fridge light cut through the dim space as I grabbed a pudding cup, stabbing the spoon into the chocolate. “Call Jax,” I said around a mouthful. “Tell him there was nothing on Cristof in his house.”

Oliver braced his hands on the counter, his jaw tight. “What do you mean nothing?”

I rolled my eyes. “What do you want me to say? Benson Browne is handling all of his digital security. There’s nothing to find.”

“You said there was a safe behind the painting.”

I motioned to the loot on the island. “That’s what was in there.”

It wasn’t the whole truth.

Something about the safe hadn’t made sense. But if I admitted that, Oliver would push me to go back. And I couldn’t.

Not because I was afraid.

Because I knew Dimitri would catch me.

And the worst part?

There was an itch in the back of my mind—a curiosity I couldn’t shake. A want that I couldn’t name.

Even though he’d seen me, we’d been in the dark. I convinced myself the shadows had been enough to keep him from recognizing me.

There were a lot of redheads in Manhattan.

I just had to make sure he never saw me again.

Oliver came around the counter, the loot forgotten. “Scarlett, you’ve been doing this for years. Maybe it’s time to give it a rest.”

I shook my head. He didn’t get it. If I stopped now, what was left?

Everything I did—everything—was about setting things right. If I quit, the people who deserved justice would never get it. Even though my family wasn’t here, they would get it.

And worse?

I’d be nothing.

My life revolved around heists and trying to regain my control.