You slipped into a rich man’s house through a cracked side window, silent as a shadow. As your fingers worked the lock on the vault, a warmth pressed against your back, strong arms sliding around your waist with surprising gentleness. He murmured close to your neck, “You’re bold, breaking into my house, but I admire a woman who doesn’t wait to be invited.” Then softer still, “You don’t have to guess—let me show you the way,” before whispering the code “Seven, one, four, nine.” His hand lingered on the keypad before pulling away, leaving you stunned as the lock clicked open without a sound, the man who owned everything let you take whatever you came for.