Chapter 4 A Trap

REBELLE POV

“Fucking asshole ”

Walking into Shield’s actual front office was always a trip. So far it did its job deceiving people, trying way too hard to look like a legit tech startup, once with more investors than an actual legit tech startup.

I pushed the door open angrily and took a deep breath before walking in.

Blaine leaned back in his stupidly expensive chair with Angel straddling him, her arms draped around his neck like a designer scarf, and his on her ass. They both looked up after I shut the door.

“The fuck was that about Blain?!,” I yelled, stopping in front of his desk with my hands clenched at my sides, afraid I'll use it if I wasn't't given a better answer.

He raised an eyebrow, his smile dropping. “I take it the retrieval was successful?”

“Yeah. Luckily!” I bit out, “Your intel was garbage, man. Absolute trash. The service elevator camera wasn’t on a loop like I was fucking told. I had to use the jammer and I almost got made right there. What do you would've happened if I wasn't with a jammer? Huh?” I threw the fried bit on his desk. “And the safe? I met a fucking Sentinel there and didn't even know what to do. Everything was different from what you told me and what I was given. Your ‘inside man’ either has shit for eyes or he’s actively trying to get me caught.” I half-yelled, my heart still pounding from the adrenaline hangover. “That was a life-or-death situation in there! It needed perfect information, not this half-assed guesswork you handed me!”

Angel snickered softly into Blaine’s neck, and it took everything in me not to grab her head and shove her across the room. “Rebelle, this is the work, I believe you know that— after your years with us, I want to believe you know that. There are always variables, ups and downs, you don't expect everything to go smoothly during a heist now do you?.” His hands were still on her ass, massaging them. “Maybe those few days you took off for your… studies… made you a little rusty, forgot how things can change. I’ll mention the discrepancies to the client, of course.”

I scoffed. “Seriously? You think I fucking care what the clients think? If I fucking get caught I won't hesitate to say the names I know.”

“Don't speak rashly now”

“Oh you know me Blaine. When you got me here you assured me, you fucking promised mishaps like this won't happen and now it did. In Rosydale fucking tower!”

I couldn't keep count on where this would go south if the securities were smart enough.

What if the jammer didn't work?

Having a footage of an unrecognized, suspicious figure walking into the tower just minutes before the necklace was stolen could destroy my life. And in this age of technology, I'd doubt it'd take more than twenty four hours to find me, all because Blaine has his head so far up angel's ass to double check his informations.

He leaned forward, gently shifting Angel off his lap. “Angel, sweetheart, be a doll and get us some coffee, would you? Rebelle looks like she needs one.” He finally looked at me properly. “Sit down.”

“Do I look like I fucking need coffee?” I snapped.

“Sit,” he repeated, his voice losing its casual tone. “Because I have another proposition for you. Much simpler than the last one. A lot safer, more secure. And the pay is… let’s just say, it’s ridiculous.”

I glared at him, my arms crossed. “I haven’t even seen my money for the last ‘proposition’ yet, yeah the one that nearly almost went south.”

He raised a brow in surprise and picked up his phone. “Right, right. Of course. My apologies.” He tapped the screen a few times. “There. Seventy percent of the Midnight Emerald, wired to your account, along with the files you need, Mitch will call you later tonight to go over them with you..”

I pulled out my phone just as it buzzed, attached to the alert was a photoshopped receipt for a sold vintage television and some chairs, looking official enough to fool a casual glance from a bank. It's how we always do it. For someone who works in a coffee shop, having amounts like this wired at once into your account was a risk. But atleast Blaine was smart enough to gather his tech team and come up with something that made sense.

Once I confirmed the money was real, I finally sank into the leather chair opposite him, fighting the urge to just walk out.

“So what is it? I need to be home before nightfall” I asked.

Angel walked back in with two mugs of coffee, placing one in front of Blaine and one on the desk in my direction before resettling herself on his lap.

She's such a whore.

“A data grab,” he said, taking a sip. “From a corporate research lab miles from here, so you have nothing to worry about with someone recognizing you.” He paused, as if waiting for me to bow to his feet appreciating him for the effort he put into doing his own job. He continued when I made no effort to do any of that. “It has low security, I made my own research on that, it's a small research lab so there's never need for some high tech security anyway. And the pay is five hundred grand.”

The amount snapped me out of my murder thought.

I almost choked on air. “Five hundred grand? For a low fucking security data grab? Are you shitting me?”

“I shit you not.” He leaned back, a smug look on his face. “There’s half upfront payment if you’re skeptical.” He reached down, pulled a slim leather briefcase from beside his desk, and slid it across the polished surface towards me.

I hesitantly unclipped it and opened it a crack.

Holy fuck!!

Wait...

“Wait, if this is half of it, what about your percentage?”

“Don't worry about me, pumpkin?”

“Okay, so...”

“See? Good faith,” He said, watching me look at the money. “The client is… particular. And generous.”

I stared at the money, then back at his smug face. Everything in me screamed that this was too good to be true. A simple job for life-changing money? There was no such thing. But the cash in the briefcase felt very, very real.

This would make my life better.

He must have seen the conflict on my face because he continued. “The other half is here with me but you know we go according to the contract, so get me the data and you get your remaining cash.” He smiled, and pulled a small flash drive from his desk drawer, sliding it over to sit beside the briefcase.

“All the details are on there. Location, security schedule, everything. It's simpler than the last one, I promise.”

Emphasis on the simple.

This man never stop trying to make my work harder than it is, so simple?

Now, now this is odd.

“I'm trying to believe this real, but...is there something you're not telling me, Blaine?”