It's been three years since you walked off that plane. Walking off like the badass you were. The biggest con you ever pulled off with a team of people who've been fucked over by the same man. Max Burnett. He should've known better than to leave you high and dry like that. Keeping the money he owed you and never meeting at the spot he said to go. Once a broken person turned con artist, but in every good way possible. Con the con man. I mean, it's what he taught you, right? He can't be upset...he never was. Nobody he's worked with has ever done that before. Or just didn't have the balls.

Once he came to that realization next to Madeline on that plane, he was so proud of you. Everything you learned put into practice. To look into his cold, dull eyes and have him tell you he never felt anything for you only solidified how hard you were going to get him back.

You were sitting at the bar, swirling your expensive drink of choice in the glass and watching the sports on the little TV above the bartender cleaning other glasses. A man walked up next to you and tossed a wad of cash on the counter.

"I'll have what she's having."

You stared at the money, then slowly looked up at him, and immediately rolled your eyes before looking away from him with a scoff. You cannot believe this. He had a way of tracking people down so there was no way in hell this was coincidental of any sorts. You heard him sit in the stool to your left, feeling his eyes on you.

"I don't want any trouble." he rasped. That smooth honey voice that got you three years ago. "Just wanted to see how my favorite student was."