Page 16 of Heartless Sinner

Why let the bartender have all the fun? This ismyhotel.

But if she likes bartenders, I’ll play the part and put aside the mafia boss.

Tonight, this girl is mine.

Chapter Four

Scarlett

The hotel bar is a portrait of elegance with gilded trim, polished floors, and leather this and that.Too perfect. Like it’s daring me to mess up.

I rest my hand on the cool surface of the bar and take a deep, deep breath, trying to soothe the hurricane churning inside me.

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

I take three more breaths, hold each one then release them slowly, imagining that I’m letting go of my worries one at a time.

God, I wish it were that simple. I’m so nervous I fear I may combust.

I feel like I’ve been sucked into some wacky alternate dimension where everything is wrong.

This morning at eight, I had to message a number Dad gave me before I left.

Within the hour, my plane tickets and instructions were emailed to me, letting me know where I was supposed to go and what I was supposed to do.

I was also given another phone number to message when I left Denver, then when I landed in New York. I did both.

I got to the hotel and came in here for a drink to take the edge off thesituation.The job starts tomorrow. I have twenty-four hours to complete it beginning from midnight tonight.

Apparently, that’s how long the chip will be in the vault—which I got the password for.

I feel like I’ve been sucked into a spy movie. Something likeJames BondorMission Impossible. Except this is real. And I knew from the moment I got involved that I was in danger.

But it’s not like I could have left my father to deal with it. Not like Johnny—thatbastard.

This whole situation shows that he never cared about us. If he did, I wouldn’t be here, and Dad wouldn’t be at home now unable to work because the beating last night fractured his bad leg.

There was no way he could have done this job. He was in so much pain, neither of us slept. We went to the hospital the moment the sun came up, where he was given painkillers and a cast.

I keep wondering what else will go wrong.

I take a swig of my drink and enjoy the sweetness. I can’t remember what the bartender called it. It was his own concoction. Whatever it is, it’s giving me that gentle buzz I need.

Maybe I’ll have one more drink before I head to my room.

I know I won’t be able to sleep, but I’ll try. Then I’ll get up early and try to figure out how I’ll steal the chip.

I’m supposed to message that number again when I make my move so they can switch off the surveillance. It’s should be a straightforward in-and-out job just like Dad said. It’s just that…

Something doesn’t feel right. Something outside the obvious of trying to steal from a mafia boss.

Now that I’ve had time to think, I’ve put things together in my mind, and none of it sits well with me. The ominous feelinghas wriggled its way to the pit of my stomach like a snake, the weight making it feel like thin glass that may shatter.

Dare I even acknowledge this, but things—the job—feels too easy. Too easy for a payout of four hundred thousand dollars.

It feels like I’m selling my soul.

I keep thinking …what if this comes back to haunt me one day when I least expect it?

---