Chapter One
Who knew losing everything in a bad gamble could feel this heartbreaking? My landlord had been banging on my door for weeks, his voice hitting notes I'm pretty sure only dogs can hear, screaming at me to get the hell out.
Charming. But where was I supposed to go? No parents, no relatives, no secret getaway map. Just me and the sidewalk.
I sighed and glanced at the coffee shop down the street—my old haunt—where someone else was currently sweating in my uniform.
Fired. Again. I should really put that on a resume.
The streets of Saacity[1] stretched before me, buzzing with a kind of life I clearly wasn't invited to.
People with money, people with purpose... people whose biggest trauma of the day was probably a slow Wi-Fi connection, not an eviction notice.
I wondered what it would be like to be one of them—to live in a world where a mistake meant buying the wrong wine, not losing the roof over your head.
"Watch it!" someone shoved past me, nearly pinning me to the bricks. "Oh! I'm so sorry!" I stammered, my voice going high and breathless.
The clumsy girl act, a classic. I straightened my coat, brushing off imaginary dust while I watched him stomp away.
The motherfucker didn't even glance back. He also didn't notice his wallet had stayed behind, having jumped from his bag into my possession with the kind of casual ease I'd perfected over the years.
Honestly, leaving it that exposed was practically an invitation. I was just doing him a favor by teaching him a lesson in security.
It had been a while since I'd had a proper coffee—ever since the manager decided that 'sampling' the premium beans more than my actual pay grade was a fireable offense.
How petty.
Naturally, it was the perfect time to visit the café that had just sacked me. One more small pleasure in a day full of shit.
I weaved through the crowd, eyes scanning, hands light. Saacity was full of people who were blissfully oblivious to the things they carried.
And me? I was very good at lightening their load.
Bam. Another person brushed past. Another wallet mysteriously found its way into my coat. I made my way to the café, grinning. Today, the streets were feeling uncharacteristically generous.
I pushed open the glass door and stepped inside, the scent of roasted beans hitting me like a hug from someone who actually liked me.
My worn-out sneaker clicked against the tiled floor as I scanned the room. A few tables were occupied by the usual crowd of laptop warriors and people gossiping about things that didn't matter.
I spotted a chair near the large glass wall—my favorite spot. My throne of quiet observation.
I slid into it, letting the bustle outside keep me company while I stayed safely behind the glass.
A waiter approached, notebook in hand, wearing a smile so fake it belonged on a billboard.
The new guy. The one who had generously stepped into my shoes last week.
"Good afternoon, ma'am. What will you be having?" he asked.
I smiled back, leaning into the chair and letting my coat fall casually over the armrest.
"Just a cappuccino, please. Extra foam."
He scribbled on his notepad, glancing at me like he expected me to start throwing chairs. Probably because of the scene I'd made when the idiot manager fired me and handed this kid my apron in the same breath.
I pulled my bag onto my lap, subtly palming the wallets I'd "found" on the street earlier and sliding them into the hidden pockets.
It's amazing how much you can get away with when everyone assumes you're too pathetic to be a threat.
I lifted the cappuccino to my lips, taking a careful sip. It wasn't scalding hot, which was a minor victory in my otherwise crumbling life.
My eyes wandered to the street beyond the glass wall, scanning the crowd like any regular person would—except, of course, I wasn't exactly regular.
My gaze landed on him. A man draped in black, moving with the kind of confidence that screamed money, power, and everything expensive.
Sharp lines, expensive watch glinting in the sunlight, shoes so clean they might as well have been painted on.
Jackpot.
I almost choked on my coffee, with one long gulp later, the cup empty. I never left food or drink behind—it was sloppy, and I liked to look careful, even when I was running a little con on life.
I slid my chair back and stood, adjusting my coat. My glasses threatened to slip down my nose, but I pushed them up.
Dropping some of my 'hard-earned' cash on the table. It's only polite to pay for your coffee with the money the guy three blocks back didn't know he was donating
Timing and posture were everything.
Out the door I went, stepping lightly into the bustling street. My pace was deliberate, casual, the kind of walk that said, I belong here, I'm just another girl going about her day.
But every step brought me closer to him. The man in black who hadn't even noticed me yet.
My jackpot. The kind of guy who has never had a landlord bang on his door.
I kept my eyes on him, letting the crowd mask my approach. Every inch I closed the distance, every casual glance and carefully timed movement, was part of the act.
And....BAM
I collided with him. Heart racing, I stumbled slightly, throwing my hand up like it was an accident.
"Oh! I-I'm so sorry!" I gasped, voice high and breathless again, just enough to sell the act.
My fingers slid into the pocket of his coat, light as a whisper. Wallet. Jackpot. Smooth, fast, practiced.
Before I could pull it free, a hard grip closed around my wrist.
Frozen. My pulse spiked, eyes moving to his face to see that he was looking down at me!
His sharp, unflinching gray eyes locking onto mine, assessing, calculating. Every muscle in his body screamed control. The kind of man who noticed everything.
"Careful," he said. I froze, lips parted, letting the act of fear wash over me.
Perfectly ordinary girl, caught red-handed. "I… I'm sorry! I didn't mean—" I stammered, trying to shove his hand off.
He didn't let go immediately. Just held my wrist, his grip firm enough to remind me that I wasn't in control.
After a long moment of us staring at each other in a very busy street, he released me, letting the wallet drop back into his coat pocket.
His gaze lingered on me—piercing, unreadable—and without another word, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd as if I hadn't even existed.
I exhaled, heart hammering in my chest, and straightened my coat, pushing my glasses back up.
What the fuck!
[1] Anyone noticed anything lol