Conning for Keeps: A Novella

by Seleste deLaney

  Damn it. He should have known all along and gotten them out of here when he’d screwed up.

  You know my history with this stupid painting, but what you might have been too bullheaded to figure out was my priorities changed. You changed them.

  Trevor paused, wisps of his anger evaporating.

  I fell for you a long time ago, but it was in a way that didn’t mean anything. It was a crush. Then this week…I wanted this to be real. I wanted to take the forever you promised and wrap myself up in it. Canalis and his stupid painting be damned. But I know what the job means to you. I figured the only way to make you trust me again was to get it. And the only way to do that and keep you safe was to be the con artist I was raised to be.

  The problem is if you’re reading this, I wasn’t good enough. I screwed up, and the price became too high to take the painting from him. The price became you. And I’d rather give up my freedom and the place I fought so hard to earn than have anything happen to you. As much as it might make you hate me, I’d rather betray the mission than betray what I feel.

  I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I hope you understand.

  In whatever language it means the most, I love you.

  Marissa

  Trevor sagged against the couch, glad it was there to break his fall. The message was scheduled to send in a few hours—presumably if she didn’t come back to the room. She loved him. That was the part ringing through his brain. It wasn’t simply sex and a good time. There’d be no reason for a con of that nature if she disappeared. The email was his one glimpse into her beautiful, fractured heart.

  She’d done this—all of it—to keep him safe. He didn’t like the way she’d run things—keeping everything from him—but he had to trust that she knew what she was doing. Hell, he had to trust her. If he’d never brought her out of the hypnosis, he wouldn’t have known more than she decided to tell him.

  It was the difficulty inherent in being Marissa’s partner on a mission like this. The only difference now was that the people back at the field office had been out of the loop. It was a testament to how much trust they put in Trevor to make sure things were solid on this end.

  Trust he sure as hell didn’t deserve after the mess he’d made.

  But now he had no choice but to give Marissa that same benefit of the doubt. She knew what needed to be done and had been working on it all along. Time to let her do it and play his part. He only wished his job was more than to have her back and make sure nothing went sideways. Or at least nothing else.

  Two hours later, he was in his tux and on his way toward the ballroom for the ceremony. Not wanting to deal with people, he made his way to the main floor via the side staircases. A few levels down, voices speaking in rapid-fire Italian grabbed his attention, and he stopped. It didn’t matter that they spoke another language, one of the voices was instantly recognizable—Canalis senior.

  Trevor pressed against the wall and let out a slow breath, focusing on the sounds and cadence of the words, letting his subconscious take over and switch his brain to Italian. He mentally translated as Canalis spoke.

  “…Make sure everything’s ready. The last thing I want is for her to catch wind of any of this beforehand. When the time comes, I want to make sure Marissa Joens is…” a door slammed and Trevor missed the next few words. It wouldn’t have mattered though. He’d heard enough. Whatever she’d told Canalis, it hadn’t worked. He knew who she was, and the entire thing was compromised. As much as she wasn’t willing to risk him, Trevor wasn’t going to let anything happen to her, either. They had to get out now.

  Heedless of his tuxedo, Trevor rushed toward the ballroom. She wouldn’t have her Glock since there’d be no place to put it in her dress. Marissa had gone in armed with nothing more than the blade she kept under her pillow at night.

  The only thing keeping Trevor sane was the fact that Canalis was still discussing plans. She wouldn’t be attacked now. Hopefully, whatever Canalis intended would be delayed until after the wedding.

  Already guests were making their way into the ballroom, taking seats in chairs draped in white cloths with bright red bows. Wedding dresses splattered with blood.

  He had to find Marissa now. Trevor checked his phone. The wedding was in fifteen minutes. He could call in Josh’s team, but that might push Canalis to make a move sooner rather than later. If Marissa was the objective, his first duty was to keep her safe at all costs.

  His gaze darted around the ballroom, hunting for where the brides would be tucked away. There, in a very quiet, don’t-notice-me-I’m-part-of-the-background, tan suit stood Amy. Nodding at people as he passed, Trevor made his way toward her.

  “Mr. Smythe?”

  “I need to see Mari.”

  She gave him one of those smiles designed to quiet panicked grooms and brides and laid a hand on his arm. “Fifteen…no, twelve minutes.”

  “Not twelve minutes. Now.” This woman was not a guard, and Marissa wasn’t in jail for God’s sake.

  Her smile dropped to a stern tightening of her lips, and she actually shook her damn finger at him. “Mr. Smythe, I’ve been more than patient with you and your refusal to talk to” —she waved at the mass of people assembling in the hall— “anyone. But this has gone far enough. You should already be lining up with the other grooms to sign your marriage license. Your bride will be out, on time, with the others. You will not screw up this commission for me. Nor will I allow you to tarnish Mari’s big day by bursting in on her. It’s horrid luck to see the bride in her dress before the wedding. Now shoo. The sooner you do your part, the sooner you’ll be happily married and everything will be fine.”

  Trevor’s hands fisted, but Josh’s final orders rang through his head, reminding him that a quiet exit after the wedding was smarter than making a scene now.

  He still wanted to wipe Amy’s patronizing little smile off her face, but it wouldn’t do any good. He settled for scowling at her as he turned and stalked to the front of the ballroom, taking his place in line. When the license was laid in front of him, he signed it absently, counting the seconds until they could be out of here.

  “Finally!” Evangeline grabbed the papers from the guy in the doorway and spun.

  Marissa sat, her hands clenched together beneath acres of tulle. Minutes. Minutes were all that separated her from the painting that could have saved her from the years in juvie. Kept her parents out of prison if only they’d listened to her teenage whim.

  …Kept her a criminal. Kept her from becoming a TRAIT agent.

  She hated Certain Laughter as much as she loved it. After all this time, though, just to hold it, possess it for a minute.

  Then…

  She wanted to believe she’d find a way to do the right thing, but her thoughts kept straying to the dream. Who was she? Really? At the end of the day, she went under hypnosis for most missions, happily losing herself to get the job done. But could she do it as herself?

  Trevor had. He’d walked away from easy money in order to become a good person and a great agent. What if she wasn’t that strong? Had she been using the programming all this time to be better at her job or to resist temptation? If she had the choice, the real choice, what was the life she wanted for herself?

  Canalis wasn’t an option. She wasn’t that kind of criminal.

  But there were other kinds.

  She’d make one hell of a sexy, modern-day Robin Hood, and there were certainly a lot of people who could use the help.

  Or was she an agent deep down, willing to sacrifice herself for the very country that had locked her up?

  “Earth to Mari…” Evangeline stood in front of her, radiant in some crazy design from Alexander McQueen. Feathers brushed her skin, and Swarovski crystals shattered the light. It wasn’t an effect that should work, but on Evangeline it did. She waved a piece of paper in Marissa’s face. “You need to sign this. We’ll hand them to Amy on our way out.” She held out a pen in her other hand. Marissa took both. “You look gorgeous, by the
way.”

  “Thanks. Your gown is amazing.” She glanced in the mirror and didn’t recognize the woman staring back at her. The dress TRAIT had provided was beautiful, with its strapless bodice bedecked in silver bits and sequins. Her hair fell in soft, familiar waves.

  Her eyes, though, were haunted in a way she didn’t like. Too many memories with this mission. Too much sadness and stress. Too much hope…and she wasn’t even sure what she was hoping for. Marissa Joens had never been one to believe in hope anyway. Letting out a sigh, she leaned over and scrawled on the paper.

  Straightening, she squared her shoulders. Damn it. She was not going to let melancholy get the best of her. She had a job to do, and she was going to enjoy as much of this as she could. After all, it might be the only time she got married. When Amy called from the doorway, Marissa picked up her silver and crystal tiara, settled it on her head, and stood.

  Minutes. She could get through minutes. As they left, she handed over the paper and followed the other brides to the door where they picked up their bouquets.

  Her heart started pounding as the entrance swung open. She needed to figure this all out before the wedding was over. She couldn’t go in to see the painting without a plan, without knowing what door—or window—she planned to exit through.

  Minutes. She only had minutes.

  She was so screwed.

  Chapter Nine

  Put a Ring on It

  The music started, and Trevor’s nerves finally settled. Very, very soon, he’d have Marissa’s hands in his, and he could tell her. Maybe not everything, but at least he could tell her they needed to go. Details could come later. All he knew for sure was Leo Canalis was not taking someone else from him.

  Bride after bride came down the aisle to join with their grooms. Marissa’s “friendship” with Evangeline had earned them the position nearest their hosts, which meant he was left waiting nearly as long as Franco himself. Finally, it was their turn, and Trevor stepped to the front of the aisle, turning toward the doors.

  His breath caught. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but Princess Marissa hadn’t been it. The gown hugged her body, showing the slightest swell of her breasts. Then, it tapered in to her slender waist before the skirt flared out to hit the floor. She glowed, and Trevor had to swallow hard before he could remind his feet to move and meet her in the middle of the aisle. Breathing more or less properly, he led her to their designated spot.

  With everyone’s attention turning to Frankie and Evangeline, now was the perfect opportunity to clue her in. He squeezed her fingers until she twisted her head slightly his way. “As soon as the ceremony’s over—”

  Her smile went tight, forced. “It’s under control.”

  Damn her and her stubbornness. He kept his voice low, but already one of the guests was glaring at them. “You don’t understand.”

  “Not. Now.” She said through teeth clenched into a too-tight smile. Her entire face was stiff, like she didn’t know how to respond to him without breaking the character she’d so carefully constructed.

  With Evangeline at the front of the room, it was time for the ceremony to start. Damn it. Her arrogance was going to get her killed. The phone was in his pocket. All it would take was hitting speed dial. He wouldn’t have to talk. His free hand strayed to his pocket, thumb already swiping the phone on.

  Then Marissa squeezed his other hand and gave him a smile he could only call reassuring. Trust, Harris. You might not like the way she plays, but she knows the game. You can make it through the ceremony. Again, he didn’t have much choice.

  Leaving now would only create a scene and all sorts of problems. He could sweep Marissa out afterward. Disappear while everyone else mingled before dinner. He stilled his pounding heart. They would make it out of here one way or another.

  He went through the motions for the first part of the ceremony, little of it registering. Then the minister was in front of them, “Trevor and Mari, are you ready?”

  Trevor snapped to attention and nodded, remembering that they were all supposed to write their own vows. He had a paper upstairs with the speech TRAIT had provided. Until the moment when he heard Canalis in the hall, he’d had it memorized.

  Not anymore.

  Time to remember all the poetry he’d read over the years and say something beautiful while weaving in a message. “Mari, from the moment I laid eyes on you, I haven’t been able to turn away. There was that day I bumped into you and spilled your coffee. You called me a burly oaf suited for nothing more than playing bouncer in a seedy bar. That’s when I knew it was love.”

  A tittering of laughter made Marissa blush, and he knew she was playing over that first meeting, too. Now time for some fiction.

  “Trouble seemed to follow us, one issue or another always getting in the way of being together. Every time life would seem to calm down, some new storm blew in.” Her smile faltered and her brows knit together the tiniest bit. Good. “But we made it here, and life seems to have given us a tiny window where all the stars have aligned. Before the next catastrophe, I need to tell you that I want to be by your side through it all. No gale force winds of change will ever tear us apart.” He pulled the ring from his pocket and slipped it on her finger before taking her hands again.

  She stood there for a moment, her mouth slightly open, before she let out a quiet laugh. “Thanks. How am I supposed to follow that, you burly oaf?”

  The laughter from the guests returned, and Marissa took the break to blow out a slow breath as if to calm her nerves. “Growing up, I always said I was never getting married. I saw first hand what it did to my parents and how wrong it could go when you left your life in someone else’s care. Then I met you, and you held me with so much tenderness, like I was the most precious thing in the world to you. It was the moment I realized I could trust you with everything: my life, my future, my heart. I knew you would always put me first and take care of me, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

  She twisted her hand free from Trevor’s and ran it gently down his cheek. A few seconds later, she slid a ring on his finger. “I wish I deserved you more.”

  All his worries about her had been pointless. Marissa’s past was just that—the past—and they could build any future together they wanted if given the chance. Happy sighs and whispers of “Beautiful,” and “Those two will make it” came from the guests near them. Trevor could only hope and pray that the latter assertion proved true, especially in regard to them making it out of here alive.

  A few minutes passed while Frankie and Evangeline exchanged vows then the minister said, “You may now kiss the brides.”

  Breathing in something that felt vaguely like relief, Trevor tipped Marissa’s chin up with a finger and locked gazes with her. They’d run to the others soon enough, but this moment he wanted to savor. She sucked in a tiny breath, and her pulse fluttered. He pressed his lips to hers, pulling her tight to him, holding onto the moment like it was real—like they’d really vowed forever in front of God and…whoever all these people were. For this instant, as she trembled in his embrace, she was well and truly his.

  Her shaking didn’t stop after the kiss though, and worry sank under his skin, taking root and growing. They made it through the final moments of the ceremony and the recessional without incident, but then well-wishers and photographers got in the way, tearing them apart at the very moment he planned to drag her out of there.

  When the crowd finally parted again, she was gone.

  His heart thudded frantically. Could Canalis have her already? Would he risk killing her here? And now? Right after his son’s wedding? Trevor never should have let her go. Never should have trusted her stupid Valjean plan to begin with. He thumbed his phone as his gaze swept the lobby.

  Maybe it was time to call in the others. Maybe…

  A sparkle caught his eye, and he rushed to the wide staircase. There, dangling from the bannister, was Marissa’s silver tiara. Her shoes lay in a drunken pile below it. He raced up the stairs, pa
using on each floor to glance down the halls. Nothing…until the second to last floor. On the wall to his right, a nick in the plaster, too small to be obvious but too big and new not to be a sign.

  Faster. He needed to move faster. He tugged his Glock from beneath his tuxedo jacket and crept down the hall to the right, hunting for any other mark of Marissa’s passing.

  When Canalis had “escorted” Marissa from the throngs of people, she’d had a moment of panic. Had she screwed up? What would Trevor think when he got that stupid email? Obviously he already thought they were in trouble. The weird thing about windows and catastrophes…

  She should have let him talk in the seconds they had before Evangeline had made it to the altar, but there were so many people.

  Craptastic. And on her wedding day, too.

  At the staircase, she’d torn her tiara free, along with more than a couple hairs and tucked it into the bannister’s spiral.

  Please let him be wrong, but please let him see it.

  Canalis had noticed though. “Marissa?”

  She glanced at him, wincing. “Shoes. If I’d known we planned on racing up the stairs, I would have bought a pair of silver Converse instead. Mind if I take them off?” She lifted the hem of her tulle skirt and waved at the strappy five-inch heels.

  “Of course. How silly of me.” He didn’t sound amused, though. He sounded suspicious. Or was that Trevor’s warning talking? “Leave them here.”

  She swallowed hard. Definitely suspicious. “Sure thing.” A noise from the ballroom made him turn around for a second, allowing her to slide the knife from her garter. She tucked it beneath her skirt as she slipped off the shoes. When she stood, she used her knife hand to hold the edge of the dress.