The Con Artist

Sara's POV

My head screamed, but I twisted my lips into a scowl, feigning disgust as I eyed the La Vie en Luxe bag on the Milton lounge's velvet sofa.

"I assumed you had a good taste," I said, my voice dripping with disdain and eyeing the bag like I didn't want to pull out whatever dress was sitting inside. "La Vie en Luxe? Is that the best you can do?"

I heard him growl, low and sharp.

Were my words hurting? Too bad I can't take it back.

"Besides," I said, sauntering away from the bag and hiding my excitement. "I can't go for an interview wearing that. How would Carlos hire a woman who wears a dress from La Vie en Luxe? He's hiring a PA, not a runway model."

I already had plans for the gown. There was a political set up meeting in Manhattan next weekend. Governors, politicians, senators - my kind of men. They would be in attendance. It would be the perfect cloak for Evelyn Rodriguez. And maybe I'll make enough money to pay for the stupid diamond necklace and run far away from the monster he was taking me to.

"What do you suggest I do with it?" He asked. "Return it?"

I spun too fast, forgetting an important rule.

Never show interest.

I bit down my lips and shrugged. "Whatever suits you."

He was gazing at me in a way that made the room feel smaller.

"A date," he blurted.

He stepped closer, repeating, "A date," as if daring me to challenge him.

"We can't be seen together. Remember?"

I knew I had an indelible effect on people, but was j already leaving those marks on Thomas Grey?

Wouldn't it be ironic to watch him fall for me?

I was smirking. But then I stopped. For the sake of the secret I held, it would be better to keep a safe distance from him.

"At my penthouse," he pressed, unrelenting. "Luca will bring you. I expect good news and useful information - actionable intel about Carlos' operation during the date."

I just wanted him gone. He was taking too much space.

I grabbed a worn-out brunette wig, brushing it with deliberate nonchalance. Irene Peters was taking shape in my mind: mousy, spectacled, ponytail, loose jeans, faded top. No seduction for Alvarez-just efficiency. Get in, get the intel, get out. Grey, too, would be a quick exit.

"Fine," I responded, voice flat. "Don't expect too much. I have a habit of disappointing people."

His frown sent my heart in flutters. "No disappointments, Sara."

I slid the wig over my head and placed the spectacles on my nose. The perfect PA look.

Something was missing. I strode to the bathroom for a cheap lipgloss I had bought from a shop. By the time I returned, Thomas Grey was gone.

I stared at my reflection while applying the gloss. "Well, good riddance."

The moment my eyes caught the luxury bag from the mirror, I abandoned everything and ran to it. It was a purple gown.

Purple!

Perfect.

It was almost as though I had whispered the details into his ears. Or like Grey had plucked it from my dreams. I pulled the gown to my chest and stared at my reflection, smiling audaciously. I could already see myself in the meeting, shaking hands, and swiping cards. Thanks to Thomas Grey, I was set for the weekend meeting.

As if on cue, the door clicked and Sean stepped in.

I twirled around with the dress pressed against my body.

"Trey Houston got you this?" He asked, tone laced with unbridled jealousy, his eyes narrowing.

I tossed the gown onto the bed. "Wrong guess."

His eyes followed the gown and lingered on it. "That must be worth something. Nothing less than a thousand."

I pulled a pair of jeans to my waist. "Nothing like good, old money."

"Who's the fish?"

I knew what he would say when I mentioned Thomas's name.

"Thomas Grey."

"The Thomas Grey?"

"He wants a date."

Sean frowned. "What does he want?"

I threw a long sleeved shirt over my body. "I'll be finding out. Trust me."

"Are you gonna sleep with him...again?"

I rolled my eyes. "That is never going to happen. Thomas and I are like opposite sides of a magnet."

"You attract?" He raised a brow.

I scoffed. "Is that what they do?" I glanced at my reflection smugly and faced Sean. "I guess we're same side of a magnet then."

I stepped out of the room. No one recognised me to be the rich heiress who had stepped in last night. Not even the concierge.

Only Sara Anderson could pull that.

I took a cab and drummed my fingers against my purse nervously. My fake ID was in the purse with fake certificates to go. Carlos was a big threat to Thomas Grey for him to go this far.

Too bad I was the victim for his stupid plan.

The cab stopped me a few blocks from Carlos' apartment. No one dares to go a yard close. Not with the hulking, grim-faced men standing around and now watching me as I played the Irene Peters act.

Pay attention!

I tried to brush my tangling wig with my fingers and almost stumbled over a scooter parked carelessly. I cursed angrily and hoped my act was going well. Irene would have been a smoker but I love my lungs too much.

I stopped in front of one of the men who had been watching me with a stare as cold as steel.

"Carlos Alvarez's house?" I asked, pointing to the large gate that clearly led to his mansion, looming ahead like that gate you don't pass through in a horror movie.

"Who are you?"

"Irene....Irene Peters." I fumbled with my purse reaching for an ID, perfectly ignoring his sharp reflex as he tucked his hand into his pocket for a gun.

Thomas Grey was trying to kill me.

I pushed the ID to his face. "See? There's an interview here, isn't there?"

"How did you know?"

I rolled my eyes. "How did you get your job? I can't start telling you my sources, can I now? Is that Carlos Alvarez's house? I need this job to pay off a lot of debt."

He returned the ID card to me, turning away and speaking into an earpiece. His face softened when he faced me.

"Irene Peters," he said. "The boss has been waiting for you."