"No," Eve whispered, patting his cheek. "I'm an accountant with good aim."

As she downloaded the files, Agatha kept watch. The city glittered below, oblivious to the heist unfolding in the clouds. In her earpiece, she heard the distant chatter of security finally figuring out the diversion was a fake. They had ninety seconds.

"You set the charges early," Agatha said, not a question. Her voice was low, a viper’s whisper.

Eve stepped back, closer to the shattered window where a zip-line rig was already anchored to the balcony. "The long con isn't over, Aggie. It just got a new mark. You're the decoy now. The security tapes will show Agatha Vega robbing the warlord. Agatha Vega, Viktor’s known associate. I was never here."

They moved. Two shadows flowing through the smoke-choked service corridors. The building's emergency lights painted everything in bloody red. When they reached the stairwell door, Agatha grabbed Eve’s arm, spinning her around.

"You used me," Agatha breathed. The betrayal cut deeper than any bullet. Not because of the money, but because she’d admired Eve. She’d respected the quiet efficiency, the way Eve could sweet-talk a security guard into handing over his keys while looking like a lost librarian. They were supposed to be partners.

"You're not coming?" Agatha’s blood ran cold.