Naughty Nice [chapter 3] -

Elena looked at the file folder sitting between them. It was labeled Project Kringle —a name so wholesome it made her stomach turn. Inside were the routing numbers that shouldn't exist and the signatures she had forged with a shaking hand just three hours ago.

"You’re being too quiet," Marcus said, his voice dropping an octave. He didn’t look up from the ledger. "It makes me think you’re actually considering the 'Nice' route. We discussed this, El. Nice doesn't pay the lease on this building."

Marcus finally looked up. His eyes, usually bright with a curated, boy-next-door charm, were dark and sharp. This was the version of him the board members never saw—the 'Naughty' hidden beneath the bespoke wool suit.

"Nice keeps us out of federal prison, Marcus," she snapped, though she kept her voice low. She traced the rim of her paper cup. "Chapter One was a fluke. Chapter Two was a necessity. But we’re at Chapter Three now, and this? This is a choice."

Elena sat in the corner booth of 'The Daily Grind,' watching the snow turn to gray slush against the windowpane. Opposite her, Marcus was doing that thing with his pen—clicking it in a rhythmic, agonizing pulse that matched the ticking of the wall clock. To anyone else, they looked like two coworkers finishing a late-shift project. To Elena, they looked like a crime scene waiting to happen.

Elena felt the last of her hesitation dissolve, replaced by a cold, sharp adrenaline. She pulled the folder toward her and clicked her own pen.