A Thief for the CEO

Chapter 3: Trapped

Riley's POV

A sigh escapes my lips as I look in the mirror.

“How do I look?" I ask Hannah, who can't help but frown.

“You definitely don't look like you," says my sister.

“Oh, well, that was kind of the idea."

The few days separating us from Saturday have passed and the time to execute the robbery has arrived. My only friend, Cleo, welcomed us into her home as the big moment arrived.

Cleo is a beautiful girl and the complete opposite of me. She has dark hair, skin and eyes. She is tall with prominent curves, and always smiles.

We know each other because of work, since we both have the night shift in the cafeteria.

“Who cares if you don't look like you, you look gorgeous!"

My friend enters the small room at that moment, making her presence known immediately. She's carrying a cup of hot chocolate, which she hands to Hannah just before she approaches me.

“You know you don't have to do this," she whispers, pretending to adjust the knot in my tie to get closer.

“You know I do," I refute her in a soft whisper that doesn't disturb my expression.

She pouts instead.

“You don't have to leave. We can work out whatever it is that's going on with the two of you."

This time a grimace does leave my lips. For almost a year, Cleo has been offering us to move in with her, since she lives alone.

It would be an easy solution to my problems, but...

“My father would follow us, you know that. And with him, all his problems," I remind her.

“I'm not afraid of him," she says bravely, as only a true friend would.

“I am," I answer.

I know my father won't let us go. We have tried before. Whenever I decide it's time for Hannah and me to leave, he finds a way to stop us.

“Don't worry. I'll figure it all out soon," I promise her, with the best smile I can.

She nods and turns away from me as I look at myself in the mirror. Cleo is a master makeup artist. With only a few hours to go, she has completely transformed my appearance.

I look like a boy. A waiter who could easily pass through the crowd of diners without being noticed.

I wear my short hair pulled back in a ponytail. My cheekbones have been highlighted and thanks to my friend's dedication, a stubble seems to sprout from my cheeks, so real I almost think I'm going to grow a mustache.

To complete the look, Cleo has "borrowed" a tuxedo from the theater where her drama group is performing, which I am now wearing.

I must admit that the garment doesn't look bad on me at all.

“Do you really have to?"

Hannah approaches me with worried eyes. I give her a brief hug and nod.

“I'll be fine," I promise.

Cleo comes over and places her hands on my sister's shoulders.

“We'll have fun while your sister does one of her little tricks," she jokes.

I haven't told Hannah what I'm going to do, or even Cleo. At least, not in detail, as I don't want to get her in trouble.

Instead, I've briefly explained to each of them that I need to retrieve something from a certain place, and in order to do that, I have to crash an important guy's party.

For now, that's all I can reveal. My friend is no fool, and she understands what it's all about. Sadly, so does my sister.

“I'll be back soon," I tell them.

I kiss Hannah on the forehead and give a big hug to my best friend, who promises to take care of my sister.

Without looking back, I start walking. I put on a hooded jacket to cover my face and walk across town.

Shortly before arriving at the event venue, I stop. Out of a dark alley comes a boy who, like me, is wearing a hooded jacket. He is tall and has light brown hair, sad eyes and a confident smile.

“Do you have what I asked for?" he asks.

I nod. I hand him a flash drive which he quickly takes.

“Your file," I tell him and he smiles.

“Thank you, beautiful... Or should I say, thank you, handsome?"

Gus smiles and I grimace back. We've known each other since we were kids. We both grew up in the same neighborhood, both sons of corrupt parents. For as long as I've known him, Gus has been in and out of trouble and in and out of the system, but he's a good kid.

“Do you have my thing?"

He nods and hands me a small bundle, in which is a fake driver's license and my waiter's ID. He may be a rogue, but Gus is a natural at Photoshop.

“It's everything you asked for."

“Thank you," I reply.

I quickly check the papers and see that everything is in order.

“What are you going to do with that?" he asks with a frown.

“Sneak into a big guy's party. What about you?"

I point to his jacket pocket, where he kept the flash drive. He pats his chest gently.

“I'll clean up my image a bit. You know. To start a new life and all that."

A new grimace leaves my lips.

“I hope it works," I murmur.

We say goodbye without saying much more and before arriving at the venue, I hide my stuff behind some bushes in the park. Then I put on my badge and adopt the pose of a boy, crossing the street. Inside, my heart beats a mile a minute, but my walking remains serene.

“ID, please."

A guy, tall as a house and with a serious look on his face, stops me at the employee's entrance. I show him my badge and hand him my ID. He checks the system and my name comes up.

I mentally thank Gus for getting on the employee list and placing my fake alias among them. For a moment, I almost feared I would fail.

“Go in."

The big man steps away from the door and I enter through a hallway and into the kitchen. The aroma of food soon floods my senses.

Inside, everyone is running around. The event has already begun. I am handed a tray full of champagne glasses and am immediately sent off to serve the diners.

With a serious look, I walk behind the other waiters, who laugh and joke among themselves for a moment before entering the party. Then, everything changes.

For a moment, my gaze takes in the scenery. I have never seen anything so beautiful. Dozens of people in elegant dresses and clothes move about on a majestic dance floor. There is a delicious scent of flowers and wine wafting through the air, and above our heads a huge crystal chandelier floats and casts rainbow strands across the room.

It is too beautiful to be real, or at least to be part of my world. Sometimes I forget that there are people who have no problems. People who live without any worries.

These rich people treat me like I'm a ghost, but that's exactly what I need right now: to be invisible to them. I move for a while without saying anything, handing over glasses full of champagne and accepting empty ones as my eyes move silently all over the scene, analyzing the situation.

After almost an hour, I have the stage set in my mind, and after returning to the kitchen for a new full tray, I turn a corner without being seen. I hide in the shadows, carefully set the tray on a forgotten small table and then start walking down the back corridors of the mansion.

The noise of the party is soon behind me, and my ears adjust to the silence. I try to walk slowly and carefully measure my steps so they don't make any noise, though luckily, the carpet absorbs them.

I cross then at a corner, count to ten and as I exhale, I hear a couple of guards passing through the corridor I was in earlier, just as I expected. Their voices disappear as I move and cross the room, going straight to the other side of the corridor.

There, after several doors, I reach one that's closed. And behind every closed door is a treasure.

With a set of hooks I have at hand, I start working on the lock. After a brief "click", the door opens and the dark silence of the room greets me.

Before anyone can see me, I slip into the spacious study. The room has a sort of oval shape. In front of me is a huge desk, and behind it are large windows reflecting the distant city lights.

My footsteps are silent. They make no noise behind them. I stand in the middle of the room and wait for a moment, trying to deduce where the safe might be hidden.

But then, a voice behind me alerts me.

“What are you doing here?"

I immediately turn around. A shadow looms in the darkness. I can only see his eyes, bright green, and luminous, like those of a cat.

The voice repeats its question.

“What are you doing here?"

He takes a step towards me and suddenly all I can think about is running, but I can't. He is closer to the door than I am. He would catch me in the act.

Too late, I understand how terrible the situation is. I am trapped.