A Prize Worth Keeping

 

A Prize Worth Keeping

Chess

 

I moved fast through the vaulted corridors, past the shattered remains of history, past the relics of dead men whose legacies were reduced to museum plaques and glass cases.

The air smelled like scorched metal, burning rubber, and gunpowder.

Chaos reigned behind me.

Alarms shrieked their war cry.

The museum wailed in distress, its security grid collapsing piece by piece.

I barely registered it. My focus was ahead—on the vault, on the diamond, on Rabbit and Bruco.

I checked my watch.

Timing is tight. But we’re still good.

I took a hard turn past a crumbling marble statue. My boots skidded slightly on polished stone. Seconds later, I slipped into the back office where the curator liked to jack off to furry porn. The stink of sweat, shame, and cheap lotion clung to the air.

Disgust rose in my throat.

And there he was.

The curator, caught mid-stroke, pants barely yanked up, his pale, doughy face twisted in horror. The same hands that had once fondled priceless art pieces now trembled as he fumbled with his belt, muttering in some odd dialect of Dutch.

Rabbit had his gun pressed between the man’s eyes. His voice cut through the thick, rank air. "Pull up your pants and stand up."

The curator’s eyes glanced between us, wide with terror. He babbled something incomprehensible. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

Rabbit repeated, switching to his rusty, butchered Dutch. "Pull up your pants and stand up."

This time, the curator got the message. Slowly—too slowly for my patience—he yanked his pants up with shaking hands.

Bruco didn’t wait. He grabbed the curator by his collar and yanked him forward so hard the man’s knees nearly buckled.

In one swift motion, Bruco shoved a balled-up tissue into his mouth—the same tissue the curator must have been using to clean up his cock moments ago.

The curator gagged instantly, and his eyes rolled back in revulsion.

Bruco leaned in. "How does your semen taste, buddy?"

The curator thrashed in protest, shaking his head violently and sobbing into the filthy tissue.

I frowned behind my mask.

Bruco tapped the side of the curator’s head with the tip of his gun and switched to English. "I think we should kill him."

The words were barely more than a purr, dripping with temptation and indulgence.

Rabbit didn’t even hesitate. His voice was steel. Authority. Final. "Stick to the plan, Bruco."

Then, Rabbit was gone.

I moved after him, leaving Bruco and his sick amusements behind.

My pulse quickened.

As we walked through the vault’s outer door that I’d disarmed, dark hunger twisted through my gut. I knew what lay ahead.

And yet—the sight of the inner vault still made my cock jerk.

It was fucking beautiful. A towering, reinforced door, its steel surface untouched by time, by men, by failure. Heavy, unyielding, impenetrable.

Until me.

My fingers twitched. My breath steadied. My mind went razor sharp, the thrill spiking, an electric current in my blood.

This was what I lived for.

Rabbit stopped by the vault’s next door. “Do your thing, Chess.”

I licked my lips.

The door was protected by a triple-lock system—key, digital code, and biometric data.

The key was the easy part. Six months ago, Rabbit had romanced the museum director’s assistant, Elise Duvall—a honey-blonde with a breathy laugh and a weakness for expensive champagne. She handled security rotations, key distribution, and high-profile clientele.

She also had a history of dating dangerous men.

It took Rabbit one chance encounter at an exclusive gala to hook her. He let her do most of the talking that night, watching the way her fingers brushed her neck when she was flustered and how she swallowed hard when his gaze lingered too long.

A week later, he bumped into her again—this time at a luxury boutique. He slipped into the role of a man with too much wealth and not enough attachment.

Elise liked that. Loved the cold restraint wrapped in expensive silk suits, the subtle danger lurking beneath his stillness.

She wanted to be the woman who unraveled it.

By the second month, Rabbit took her to Paris, let her spend his money and even let her think she was peeling back his layers. He was careful—just enough intimacy, just enough vulnerability—never so much that she could truly sink her claws in, but enough to make her believe she had.

And then the moment when she invited him to her home.

He brought a special bottle of wine.

She surely wouldn’t have remembered the rest of the night once she took a sip of Cappello’s potion.

By morning, she had still been asleep when Rabbit left, the key returned to its original place, and an exact copy resting in his pocket.

By the time she realized he wasn’t coming back, it was too late.

The key was his.

And Elise?

She was nothing but a pretty little loose end, Rabbit had no intention of tying up.

I took out the key and unlocked the first lock.

The digital lock was next. It used a keypad instead of a dial. This type of safe was harder to crack. However, we’d discovered months ago that the museum's safe had a reset button. It was a small hole in the back.

I took out a paperclip, pushed it into the small hole, and reset the safe. “You know they paid three hundred thousand for this safe and a fucking twenty-five cent clip can disarm it.”

“Good for us.” Rabbit had his gun pointed at the entrance and was ready to fire. “Just get it done.”

“It’s genius though.” I entered a new code. “I’ve unlocked it with a paperclip that cost nothing.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Rabbit checked down the hall. “Suck your dick later, Chess.”

Clearly hearing our conversation through the masks, Cappello’s voice sounded in my ear. “Sucking your own dick is a cruel hobby, my friend.”

Rabbit growled. “Focus, guys.”

“I’m more than focused. I’m in the new van, Rabbit,” Cappello continued. “I’m at the meeting spot.”

“Stay ready.”

The safe’s door popped open, revealing the small biometric safe inside. This required facial recognition and a retinal scan.

I called over my shoulder. “Bruco, you’re up next!”

He guided the curator forward.

I gestured to the door and switched to Dutch. “Open it.”

The man gazed at the guns. Sweat dripped down the side of his face. “You'll never get out of the country with these diamonds.”

“Let us figure that out!” Bruco shoved the tip of his gun in his gut.

The man doubled over and coughed.

“Can’t we just cut his head off and put it in front of the scanner?” Bruco shrugged. “Seems to me that would be easier.”

Fucking psycho.

“We need his voice too.” Rabbit grabbed the man and yanked him forward. “Do the retinal scan.”

Shaking, the curator placed his face in front of the red light zipping out from the safe.

The door beeped.

An electronic voice spoke, “Password, please.”

The curator whimpered in Dutch.

Bruco slammed his gun against the back of his head.

The curator fell back.

Rabbit caught him before he hit the ground and wrenched him back to the scanner. “Password or die.”

The curator spoke, “Redemption for a king and queen.”

A click echoed through the room, cutting through the chaos like a gunshot.

For half a second, everything stilled.

Then—a hiss of pressurized air.

The final vault door groaned as its locks disengaged. Steel mechanisms, untouched by time, yielded to me. A low, mechanical whir vibrated through the air and the heavy door crept open, revealing the treasure inside. It was all a yawning mouth of wealth and legacy.

Stolen history and impossible greed.

The moment stretched long.

Then Bruco shattered it. With a savage grunt, he shoved the curator to the ground like he was tossing out trash. The man hit the floor hard. His bones crunched against polished marble. A choked gasp wheezed from the curator’s throat before Bruco’s boot slammed into his stomach.

The impact echoed, a brutal, wet thud.

The curator folded in on himself like a broken doll. His limbs curled, and his hands clutched his gut as he gagged against the tissue that had been stuffed back into his mouth.

Bruco tilted his head and watched the man writhe on the floor, as if considering another kick.

“Enough,” Rabbit commanded.

Bruco stepped back.

Barely.

I returned my focus to the vault’s interior.

Shelves lined the walls, packed with velvet boxes, glinting artifacts, and things most men would kill for. Priceless relics, untold fortunes, symbols of power that had been hoarded by kings and collectors alike.

But there—at the center of it all—was what we came for.

The Love Diamond.

A masterpiece of light and fire.

It sat on its pedestal, framed in thick glass, glowing beneath the soft security lighting. The facets were captured stars, refracting brilliance in every direction. A flawless, impossible spectacle of wealth.

Untouched.

Unspoiled.

Mine.

Slowly, I reached in.

My fingers brushed the velvet cushion first, then the cold, perfect edges of the diamond itself. The second I lifted it, the weight of it sat heavy in my palm.

The Love diamond had been desired by kings, thieves, and empires.

And now?

It belonged to us.

I sighed. “There we go.”

Bruco stared at it. “Careful, Chess. It’s cursed.”

Cappello’s voice sounded in my ear. “How pretty is she?”

I grinned behind my mask. “More beautiful than any woman I’ve ever met.”

“Kiss her later.” Rabbit slung the bag at me. “Let’s go.”

I put the diamond inside the bag and zipped it up.

We rushed off.

My pulse hammered in my veins.

“Get that van started, Cappello.” Rabbit kept his pace at my side. “We’re on our way.”

The museum corridors stretched in endless gilded patterns. Polished marble reflected the red strobe of the alarms.

Chaos pulsed in the air, a living, breathing thing.

And then we saw a Black woman at the end of the hall barely twenty feet away. She was panting and wild-eyed. Her gaze darted between the endless rows of doorways. She tried each door fast and then went to another.

Hold up. Is that. . .

I recognized her instantly. Even without the red wig, glasses, the fake mole, and that dull uniform.

Fuck. She is gorgeous.

The security consultant.

The ghost.

Except now she couldn’t hide.

Long, thick dreadlocks tumbled down her back, coiling over the deep blue hoodie that swallowed her frame, the fabric stretched across her ridiculously full curves. She wasn’t some stick-thin, forgettable woman. She was soft and thick, lush and alive. Every inch of her had been shaped by sin.

The deep color of her mahogany skin gleamed under the museum’s cold security lights.

And for one second, I forgot how to breathe.

I liked her better like this, without that other disguise. No, I preferred her like this. This was who she really was.

Her jeans clung to her thick thighs, accentuating the way her body moved as she took a step back. Her small black book bag slipped from her shoulder. And then she twisted our way and her expression shattered.

Yes. We see you, sweetheart.

“What do we have here?” Bruco increased his speed and got to my side. “She’s sexy.”

I stiffened.

No.

“I want her.” Bruco lunged forward before I could speak.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Panic coiled in my stomach like razor wire.

He raced for her.

I chased after him.

Rabbit kept our pace.

I can’t let him get to her.

Bruco didn’t just want things.

He took them.

He kept them.

And then, he broke them.

I moved before I even thought about it, but it was already too late—Bruco was faster. She barely had time to react before his hand clamped around her wrist.

“No!” I yelled. “Get off her!”

And then. . .electric crack split the air.

To my shock and Bruco’s too. . .she slammed him back into the wall.

Hard.

Oh.

The impact was brutal. Bruco’s body jerked as if she’d driven a steel rod through his ribs. His boots slid against the marble, and for the first time ever, I saw Bruco struggle for balance.

She shot her knee right into his stomach.

A sick thud echoed.

Bruco gasped and doubled over.

Oh shit! Did she just take him down?

I froze.

She’s fucking strong.

Trembling, she backed up. “Hey, guys. I have nothing to do with this. Take what the fuck you want from this museum. I’m just trying to get out of here.”

Rabbit and I exchanged masked glances and then looked back at her.

None of us had expected that.

“Good luck with this.” Then, she twisted in a blur. Her dreadlocks flew as she took off.

My breath hitched.

Run. I’ll catch you later.

“Interesting.” Rabbit sped off.

Oh no!!

She didn’t make it five feet. Because in the end, no one escaped Rabbit. He moved like he always did—impossibly fast. She barely had time to turn before his arm locked around her waist. He dragged her back against him in a brutal, unyielding grip.

She thrashed.

He didn’t care.

She slammed a fist into his face. He grunted, but it didn’t faze him. Rabbit wasn’t Bruco. It would take a whole hell of a lot more to make him falter.

“Not so fast, love.” His hand fisted in her hoodie.

She shook her head. “Hey! I don’t want to be a part of this!”

She’s American.

She hit Rabbit with the back of her hand. It did nothing. He was already prepared for her strength.

Hope no longer showed in her eyes. She switched to perfect Dutch as if thinking we couldn’t understand English. “Look. You don’t need me to be a hostage. I disabled the cameras. You’ve got a clean way out. Just leave me alone.”

“Wait a minute.” Bruco finally rose and looked at me. “That’s the security consultant?”

I stiffened. “Yeah.”

“I thought you took care of her.”

“I said she’s no longer a problem.” My fingers clenched at my sides.

Cappello spoke through our earpieces, “Eh, are you all coming or not? I can hear sirens. Hurry the fuck up!”

“We’re coming.” Rabbit headed off with her firmly in his grip.

Bruco and I rushed after him.

I got to his side. “What are you doing, Rabbit? We don’t need her. We’ve got the diamond and our clear way out.”

Rabbit said nothing. Absolutely nothing. And that scared me more than anything. He wasn’t annoyed. He wasn’t curious. He was. . .assessing her like he wanted to keep her.

I forced myself to move. “We don’t need her! Do you fucking hear me?”

Rabbit didn’t even glance my way, and his grip stayed firm as she twisted and fought against him.

A dark chuckle left Bruco. “Oh, we’re going to have some fun tonight.”

I had to admit that I was impressed with how she fought him with each step, but Rabbit didn’t let go.

“Eh.” I glared. “Let her fucking go, man. You know I don’t like this.”

Rabbit’s voice went calm. “A hostage could be good for getting out of the museum.”

“We don’t fucking need her.”

She stilled, just for a second. Her brown eyes went to my mask.

I didn’t know what she saw there. But I knew what I saw in those beautiful eyes.

Darkness.

Fury.

A soul that was stubborn enough to survive.

Rabbit exhaled through his nose and adjusted his grip like she was nothing but a puzzle piece clicking into place. “This isn’t a discussion, Chess.”

My pulse throbbed.

The woman gritted her teeth as she continued to struggle against his grip, but the inevitable always won.

Rabbit lifted his chin. His expression was unreadable behind the dark mask. “We take her and decide what we’ll do with her next.”

The words hit the air like a death sentence.

I swallowed hard.

I wanted to argue.

I wanted to undo this moment.

I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. My mind raced. My thoughts screamed at me to fix this and to do something.

But I already knew.

There was no fixing this.

No changing the course.

No way to rewrite the ending.

Rabbit had spoken. And that meant she was coming with us. And the problem with that. . .when a woman came with us. . .they never lived for too long afterwards.

I exhaled slow.

Bruco laughed and dragging a hand over his bruised ribs. “Looks like we have a new Alice.”

“No.” My stomach dropped. I thought of the graves of other Alices from our past jobs. That was why I’d wanted to stop. I shook my head. “Fuck no.”

I didn’t want the security consultant to be another broken body buried behind our mansion. I pleaded with Rabbit. “We said we wouldn’t do that again and you fucking promised me. Don’t you fucking remember?”

Rabbit remained silent, while she struggled against him and Bruco laughed again.