"You set the charges early," Agatha said, not a question. Her voice was low, a viper’s whisper.
Eve finally looked up. Her eyes were the color of sea glass—beautiful, deceptive, and cold. "The con changed, Aggie. Viktor was a stepping stone. The real target was always the buyer he was meeting tonight. The warlord from the Golden Triangle. He’s in the penthouse. Viktor’s dead. Now we take the buyer's sat-phone, transfer the thirty million from his accounts, and disappear." long con part 3 agatha vega, eve sweet
She turned to Agatha, and for a wild, hopeful moment, Agatha thought she saw an apology forming. Instead, Eve pressed a small, smooth object into Agatha’s palm. A spare key. "You set the charges early," Agatha said, not a question
"Got it," Eve said, pocketing a tiny drive. "Now for the final part." Her eyes were the color of sea glass—beautiful,
Agatha stood alone in the penthouse, the key digging into her palm. The alarms were seconds away. The warlord was moaning. And somewhere over the neon labyrinth of the city, Eve Sweet was already gone, leaving behind nothing but a promise that felt like a noose.
Eve’s lips quirked. Not a smile. Something softer. "Darling, we were never even. That's what made it fun."