Chris didn’t flinch. He’d learned long ago that flinching got you killed. He turned slowly. A woman sat cross-legged in the dark, her silhouette framed by the downtown skyline. She wore a severe black pantsuit, her platinum hair pulled back so tight it looked like it hurt. Her eyes were the color of frozen vodka.
Chris Diamond had one rule: never work for someone smarter than you. But as he slipped the duplicate card into his pocket and watched Lexa slide the real Monet into a cylindrical case, he realized he’d already broken it. chris diamond miss lexa
The rain over Los Angeles wasn’t the cleansing kind. It was the sticky, neon-refracting kind that made the city look like a broken slot machine. Chris Diamond knew this because he’d been staring at it for three hours from the penthouse window of a man he’d just robbed. Chris didn’t flinch
Miss Lexa tilted her head. “Then I tell Silas Vane that you’re the one holding the real card. And I’ll enjoy watching him peel the skin off your very handsome face.” A woman sat cross-legged in the dark, her
He walked to the penthouse window, raised the duplicate card like a toast, and whispered to the rain, “Miss Lexa, you magnificent devil.”
Chris kept his smile easy. “If you’re here to arrest me, you forgot your badge.”
The elevator doors opened. She stepped inside, and just before they closed, she added, “Oh, and Chris? The tracker in your shoe? I was lying about that. The real tracker is in your watch. Vane’s men already know where you are.”