L. heists 101

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Being married sucks. Being married to Ace Blackwell is downright horrifying. For the last hour, we'd been reviewing facts of our marriage. He was now Garret Morgenson, and I was Chelsea Morgensen.

"Where did we meet?" He tests.

"Well Garret," I say while adjusting my dress. "We met at during college at the Swarthmore library. You were reading Dante's Inferno, I was reading Paradise Lost, and we've been together ever since."

Ace, I repeat, my husband, wore a classic black suit and tie. The darkness contrasted with the golden gleam in his eyes. He was a mosaic of night and day. Every girl is a sucker for guys in suits, and I was no exception; his outfit looked perfect. I'd never let him know this, but if he dressed like this every day, I'd consider tolerating his presence.

But once he opened his mouth, all my tolerance was gone.

"I cannot imagine us being married in real life," I chuckle.

He scoffs. "You wish you could marry me."

"Actually, that's one of my worst nightmares. If we were married, I'd die of hemorrhoids due to your BS."

"In that case," Ace smirks, getting down on one knee. "I'd be doing the world a favor."

"Wow. Where did you get that insult? From a suburban sassy aunt named Janice?"

"Don't make me put you down, you soggy bowl of chili."

"Go die in a hole you club penguin addict."

Ace lets out a low whistle. "You'd be safe in a zombie apocalypse. If the zombies tried to eat you, they'd starve."

"That's enough you two," Skye scolds before I could fight back.

The entire team sat squished in a limousine wearing elegant suits and gowns. A passer-byer would believe that we were actual invited guests to tonight's esteemed tech expo. I was adorned with a regal red blazer and pencil skirt with a slit on the side. This skirt was chosen for two reasons. One reason was that Ace's gaze couldn't stop drifting to my leg.

Perhaps the more important reason was so that I could easily reach the gun hidden underneath my dress. In fact, all of us had weapons. There was a total of about two dozen weapons on our persons.

"What's the plan again?" Xavier asks. "I may or may not have been listening this morning due to my severe hangover." At least he has the decency to look sheepish.

"We've been over this at least twenty times," Daniel groans.

Ace rolls his eyes. "You, Skye, Daniel, and Chase are in charge of scoping out the scene and protecting Mr. Vega and Mrs. Cho. Octavia and I will steal the rings."

Thirty tension filled minutes later, we arrive at the gala. I clutch my purse that contains another gun and an exact replica of Mrs. Cho's ring. This decoy would then be replaced with the real ring once it's stolen.

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