Lie To Me In Diamonds

CHAPTER 1: FORTY FLOORS AND A BILLIONAIRE

The wind at forty floors doesn’t whisper. It screams.

Nadia Reyes hung from a wire thinner than her patience, 400 feet above downtown, and thought: _This is a terrible idea._

Below her, the city was a circuit board of light. Cars like ants. Sirens like distant crickets. Above her, the CrossTech penthouse glowed gold against the night, all glass and ego and “I’m better than you” architecture.

She checked her watch. 2:13am.

Security rotation in 47 seconds.

Laser grid on a 6-second loop.

And one blood-red diamond sitting in a vault.

The Ember Diamond. 80 million dollars. One job. Debt paid.

Easy.

Nadia exhaled and dropped.

The wire sang. Her harness bit into her ribs. The building rushed up to meet her and she flipped, boots hitting the glass balcony of the 41st floor with barely a sound.

First rule of being The Ghost: if they hear you, you’ve already failed.

She pressed her palm to the glass. Thermal scanner. Green light. The window slid open like it was expecting her.

Rookie mistake, CrossTech.

Inside, the penthouse smelled like money and cedar and something expensive she couldn’t name. No lights. Just moonlight cutting across marble floors and furniture that probably cost more than her car.

Nadia moved. Fast. Silent. Living room. Empty.

Kitchen. Empty, except for a single lavender plant on the counter. Weird flex for a billionaire.

Hallway. Vault door at the end.

She was 3 minutes in.

The vault was biometric. Cute. She pulled out the latex fingerprint she’d lifted from Damian Cross’s water glass at a gala last week. Pressed it to the scanner.

"Access Granted". The vault door beeped.

The door hissed open. Cold air hit her face.

And there it was.

On a black velvet pedestal, under a glass dome.

The Ember Diamond.

Red like blood. Red like a warning. Red like the kind of trouble that gets people killed.

Nadia’s heart did a stupid little flip. Not because of the money. Because of the story. A billionaire who never wore it. A bunch of dead collectors in its wake. What was so special about this diamond anyways? She rolled her eyes reached for it.

“Took you four minutes longer than I expected”

The voice was low. Amused.

Nadia froze.

Slowly, she turned.

A huge figure was sitting in a leather chair in the corner of his own vault. No security. No guards. Just him. He snapped his hand and the lights came on. She saw him clearly then, White shirt, sleeves rolled up. Black watch. Glass of whiskey in his hand like this was a casual Tuesday.

He looked like he’d been carved out of a boardroom and a sin. Dark hair, sharp jaw, eyes that were almost black in the dim light. And he was looking at her like she was the most interesting problem he’d had all month.

Damian Cross. CEO of Crosstech, the morning couldn’t get any more interesting.

Nadia did the math in 0.3 seconds.

Option 1: Run. She could be out the window before he blinked.

Option 2: Fight. She had 3 knives and a taser.

Option 3: Improvise.

She made to run, but damn, he was faster to block her path .

“Evening, Mr. Cross.” She smiled, slow. “You’re up late.”

Damian took a sip of whiskey. “Couldn’t sleep. Kept thinking someone might try to steal my diamond.”

His eyes flicked to the pedestal.

“Imagine my surprise when someone tried to”

Nadia straightened. Dropped the act. “Look, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Easy way: I take the rock, you file an insurance claim, nobody dies. Hard way: I take the rock and you try to stop me and we both find out how much security you actually have.”

Damian laughed. Once. Soft.

“Security? In this building? There are over 30 bodyguards in this building at my beck and call. But in this vault?.”

With his height that stood about 6’2 he looked intimidating . And he moved like he knew exactly how much space he took up. He crossed to the pedestal in two steps and put his body between her and the diamond.

“I am the security, by the way,the diamond’s fake”

The word landed like a punch.

“What?”

“Glass and red dye.” Damian tapped the dome. “The real Ember Diamond is in a safe in Switzerland. This is bait.”

Nadia stared at him. Then at the diamond. Then back at him.

“You put out bait. And waited. For me.”

“For _someone_,” he corrected. “It just happened to be you.”

She hated that. Hated that he was right. Hated that he said it like a compliment.

“So what now? You call the cops? Because I can be on the roof in 8 seconds.”

Damian tilted his head. Studied her. Really studied her. Like he was cataloging every inch. The black suit. The mask pushed up on her forehead. The scar on her left knuckle.

“No cops,” he said finally.

Nadia frowned. “Then what?”

“ A deal.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You’re in debt. To Marco Varela.” Damian said the name like it tasted bad. “Half a million. Due in 30 days. Or he sends his best men to take your life and your last surviving family member”

“Your brother” He whispered into her ears.

Nadia went cold. “How do you—”

“I am well informed”

Nadia crossed her arms.

“Someone thinks I have the real Ember Diamond. They’ve been trying to get to me for 6 months. Break-ins. Threats. I… lost someone dear to me 2 years ago because of this rock.” His jaw ticked. A flicker of pain crossed his face but it was gone almost immediately

“And you need me because...”

“Because you’re a thief. Because you’re good. Because if my ‘girlfriend’ suddenly appears and starts wearing expensive jewelry and going to galas, the buyers will come to me. And then,I will make them pay”

Nadia stared. “Your girlfriend.”

“Fake girlfriend,” Damian corrected quickly. Too quickly. “30 days. You live here. You play the part. In return, I pay Varela. In full. And I give you enough to disappear after.”

Silence.

The city hummed outside the glass.

“Why should I trust you?” Nadia asked.

“You shouldn’t.” Damian’s mouth quirked. Not quite a smile. “But you don’t have a better option. Varela’s men were at your apartment yesterday.”

Nadia’s stomach dropped.

Damian saw it. His expression didn’t change.

“30 days,” he said softly. “Then you’re free. Both of us.”

Nadia looked at the fake diamond. At the man who’d caught her and didn’t turn her in. At the 400-foot drop behind her.

“Rules,” she said.

Damian nodded.

“One: No touching.”

“Agreed.”

“Two, No falling.”

His mouth twitched

. “Done”

“Three: The second this is over, we never see each other again.”

Damian held out his hand. “Deal”

Nadia stared at his hand. Big. Calloused in weird places for a CEO.

She took it. His grip was warm and sure and it pissed her off how steady it made her feel.

“One more thing,” Damian said as he let go. “You need a name. A cover.”

Nadia rolled her eyes. “Nadia Reyes is fine.”

“Nadia Reyes,” he tested it. Like he liked the way it sounded. “Welcome to the penthouse, Ms. Reyes.”

---

The guest room was bigger than her apartment.

Nadia stood in the middle of it, arms crossed, looking at the king-size bed, the walk-in closet, the bathroom with a tub she could drown in.

“Don’t get used to it,” she muttered to herself.

A knock.

Damian stood in the doorway. He’d changed into a black t-shirt. It should’ve been illegal.

“Food,” he said, holding up two takeout bags. “You didn’t eat before the job, did you?”

“How do you—”

“I know everything, remember?” He stepped in and set the food on the coffee table. Thai. Her favorite. “Rule 4: You don’t starve on my watch.”

Nadia sat on the chair. It was confusing,this man had figured out things she would never tell anyone, and now he served her,her favourite,something didn’t feel right!

“You’re weirdly domestic for a guy who baited me with a diamond.”

“I’m weirdly a lot of things.” He handed her chopsticks. Their fingers brushed. Neither of them pulled away fast enough.

They ate in silence for a while. It wasn’t awkward. It was... charged.

“So,” Nadia said around a mouthful of pad thai. “Who’s trying to kill you?”

Damian’s chopsticks paused. “Business partners. Old ones. The kind who think 80 million is worth murder.”

“And you think pretending I’m your girlfriend will bring them out?”

“I think pretending you’re my girlfriend will make them desperate.” He looked at her. “Desperate people make mistakes.”

Nadia swallowed. “And if they hurt me?”

Damian set his food down. His whole body went still.

“They won’t.”

Two words. Said like a promise. It sounded familiar.

Nadia believed him. And that scared her more than the 40-floor drop.

She stood, needing space. Walked to the window. The city was still there, still bright, still full of people who didn’t know a heist and a billionaire were having dinner 40 floors up.

Behind her, Damian stood too.

“I’ll be across the hall,” he said. “If you need anything.”

“I need to not be here.”

“I know.” A pause. “But you are.”

She didn’t turn around. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Cross.”

“I don’t.”

She heard the door close. Soft.

Nadia pressed her forehead to the cool glass.

30 days. Fake girlfriend. Real danger.

And a man who looked at her like she was the answer to a question he’d been asking for years.

This was going to be a disaster.

Her phone buzzed. Unknown number.

_Welcome to the job, Nadia. Try not to fall in love. - D_

She snorted. Then deleted it.

Then checked the locks. Twice.

---

Somewhere on the 12th floor, a man in a suit watched the CrossTech penthouse through binoculars.

He spoke into his phone.

“She’s in. The Ghost.”

A pause.

“Yes, sir. The fake girlfriend plan.”

Another pause.

" The bugs are unnoticable and intact?"

"Yes sir"

Short Pause.

“Game On!”