“I’m not a cop, Chris.” She walked past him, running a single finger over the gilded frame of the Monet. “I’m the woman who hired you.”
“No.” She pressed the duplicate card into his palm, her fingers cold as a scalpel. “I want you to be a partner. If you survive the night, you get forty percent of the auction. That’s seven million dollars. Enough to buy a new identity. Maybe even a conscience.” chris diamond miss lexa
The doors shut.
Then he kicked the glass out and jumped to the fire escape, the city exploding into a symphony of sirens and gunfire below. “I’m not a cop, Chris
He looked at the card. Then at her. Then at the rain lashing the window. “I’m not a cop