Long Con Part 3 Agatha Vega, Eve Sweet -

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.

"You're a monster," the warlord whimpered, blood seeping through his fingers.

"No, you won't," Eve said, and for the first time, her sea-glass eyes looked genuinely sad. "Because you still want to believe I'll show up at that villa. And that's the cruelest con of all—making someone hope." long con part 3 agatha vega, eve sweet

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

Because Eve had forgotten one thing. Agatha Vega didn't do hope. She did leverage. And before she’d even entered this building, she’d planted a tracker on Eve’s zip-line rig. Agatha stood alone in the penthouse, the key

"The villa in Como. The one I bought last year under a fake trust." Eve’s voice was steady. "It's yours. The deed’s in the safe behind the Modigliani. I'll meet you there in forty-eight hours. If I'm not there…"

"You set the charges early," Agatha said, not a question. Her voice was low, a viper’s whisper. And somewhere over the neon labyrinth of the

"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.