#lenfaz fics

Chapter 14

It was done. It was bloody done.

And they had succeeded.

Liam took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp night’s air. The money was secured back in the warehouse, they’d discarded their SWAT gear and were heading to the rendezvous point. He reached for LJ and clasped his little brother’s shoulder.

“You did well, kid,” he said, his heart bursting with pride. He looked at Henry, who was walking along beside LJ. “You both, did.”

LJ’s smile was brief and small, but it was a start. Leaving the two of them to enjoy the high of their first big heist, Liam fell behind with Nemo and Poseidon.

“Well done, boy.”

Liam smiled. “Admit it, Poseidon. You didn’t think we would pull it off.”

Poseidon shook his head. “I had my doubts, but they had nothing to do with the job, Liam. I simply wondered if you’d forgotten the things that truly matter in life.”

An image of Belle rushed through his head and Liam held Poseidon’s stare with solemnity. “I hadn’t.” They’ve reached the fountain near the Baelfire, the place where they were supposed to meet. Liam ran a hand through his hair, his nerves finally kicking in. “I just have to hope she hasn’t either.”

Nemo reached for him, engulfing him in a fatherly hug that Liam hadn’t realized he needed until he sank into it. Liam held on, finally letting every bad moment of the past few years go. He was ready to start a new life.

“I’m still mad at you, Liam Jones.” Belle’s voice pulled him from his thoughts and he stepped out of Nemo’s embrace. Turning around, he found her standing next to Ursula, only a few feet away from him.

She was still dressed elegantly, a blue halter neck dress that went above her knees, four-inch black heels and a caramel coat. The flash in her eyes confirmed her anger was real, but there was also a hint of a smile curving her lips. When he glanced back up her eyes were sparkling with mischief and that was when he noticed there was a small travel bag sitting at her feet. One could only hope… and Liam Jones really wanted to hope.

He opened his arms and gave her that smile he knew would melt her. “Think about it this way - I have a lifetime ahead of me to make it up to you.”

She ran into his arms, crashing her lips against his. Liam caught her, lifting her from the ground as he let himself go, kissing her with everything he had. From behind them there were sounds of throat clearing, wolf-whistling and a few ‘get a room’ comments - the last of which sounded suspiciously like Milah - but Liam didn’t let go. He couldn’t even if he wanted to, as Belle was holding onto him as much as he was.

When they finally broke their kiss, he gently lowered her down to the ground and rested his forehead against hers. He took a moment to simply breathe her in.

“Liam...” Belle started, her voice laced with concern. “You know he probably called the cops, don’t you?”

“Aye… I’ve already called my parole officer. I need to go back and face the music for a while, and Nemo has arranged for some legal advice.” He pulled her closer to him, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “But he understands…”

“Understands what?”

He kissed her again.

“That I had to get you back”.

/-/

Killian adjusted the cuffs of his shirt and ran a hand along the lapels of his suit jacket. His shirt was wrinkled and his suit was covered in dust. The beginning of a bruise was visible on his cheek and his ribs were sore. He ran a hand through his hair, wincing slightly at the pain as he tried to put himself to sorts. He was going to have to accept that he wasn’t going to be more polished than this tonight. It would have to do.  

He stepped out of the police station with his hands in his pocket and a small spring to his step. They had foreseen this - there was little they hadn’t predicted with this job, with the exception of Emma Swan - and Nemo had already placed a couple of calls while Killian was being taken into the police station. There was nothing on him - nor would there be. Plus it didn’t hurt that Nemo was more well-liked than Gold by pretty much everyone in this town, including the police.

Killian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. While the night was still too warm for his taste, there was a soft breeze that brought a chilled edge with it. It felt wonderful to fill his lungs with it, as if a new life was starting. When he opened his eyes, it seemed that new life had conjured before him, because Emma Swan was walking towards him. Her blonde hair loose and down, its wavy curls resting on her shoulders. She wore no makeup, tight jeans, a battered t-shirt, and a red leather jacket.

She was a vision… and he could only hope she was real.

He let a soft smile come to his lips as she approached him and he could confirm that she was, in fact, very real.

“Swan…” he couldn’t help the cheeky tone or the wistful smile. “What brings you to this fine establishment on this of all evenings?”

She tilted her head, her lips twisting in what he thought was an adorable way. “I was coming to bail you out.”

“Would you do that for me? Really?” The questions left his lips without prompting, and he bit his lower lip to refrain for making more of an embarrassment of himself. But oh well, in for a penny, in for a dozen million dollars. “While I appreciate the gesture, as you can see, love, I had everything under control.”

She took a step towards him, and stood just a hairbreadth’s away from him. “Do you, Jones?”

He lowered his eyes to her lips. “I’d like to think I do.”

Her lips brushed his, soft and warm, and with one single movement, she’d upended his world again. Without hesitation, he brought her flush against him, his hands cradling her face and angling her head so he could kiss her with abandon.

A minute, an hour, a decade later, he finally pulled away, reaching to put a strand of hair behind her ear and tucking Emma at his side. Killian knew the moment had come and he couldn’t hold back the truth from her anymore.

Besides, he didn’t want to.

Taking a deep breath for courage, he started walking, his eyes on the street. “You know, pulling a job like this one is not easy. It requires a lot of planning, careful execution, and selecting the perfect associates.”

“Are you trying to get into my pants by impressing me with your knowledge of criminal activity?” She cocked an eyebrow at him, her lips twitching. “I have to say, I’m not impressed.”

“Of course not, but hush. I’m trying to make a point.” He cleared his throat as he picked his words carefully. “We had a lot of friends coming to help with this, but we were still missing a greaseman. Lucky for us, I found one.”

“You did?”

“I did. Wonderful kid: smart, fast, talented. He’s a bloody marvel.” He stopped, turning to face her. “His name is Henry Mills, he’s sixteen years old and he ran away from the foster system a few years ago. He’s been pulling jobs here and there while performing in a circus.” From the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he pulled the stack of paper he’d been carrying with him all night. He handed them to her with shaking hands. “He has a past that I think you’ll find interesting.”

She shot him a puzzled expression as she took the papers, her eyes scanning the first one. Killian swallowed, shuffling his feet as he waited for Emma to read them all. She did. Three times. She scanned one page and then another, and then back to the first, over and over again. It was killing him, but he didn’t want to push her.

When she finally lifted her head, her eyes had a haunted expression and her voice was barely above a whisper. “Are you sure - absolutely sure?”

Killian nodded. “One hundred percent, Emma. I wouldn’t be showing you those if I wasn’t. I had Smee looking into it. You haven’t met him, but he can get his hands on anything, and he always gets it right.”

There was a moment of silence between them as he watched the information finally sink in.

And then she punched him in the stomach.

The breath went out of him, the pain of his already sore ribs spiking back up. He coughed and winced as he bent over in pain, holding onto his ribs. “Careful, darling. I’ve already taken a beating tonight.”

Emma punched him on the shoulder without missing a beat. “You turned my son into a criminal!”

She had a point here. Almost. Straightening to full height, he caught her next punch with his hand. “He already was one, Swan. I just made sure he pulled a job where he was protected by people who would treat him like family, and got enough money to retire…”

That seemed to bring Emma out of her violent streak and into a different state. Her hands started to shake and her eyes filled with tears, the sight of it breaking his heart. Reaching for her, he pulled her into a tight hug, and let her sob into his shirt. “It’s alright, love. It’s alright.”

“Was he- was he there that night? The night I tailed you?”

“Yes, he was… he’s surprisingly not bad at blackjack, considering you’re so terrible at it.” She smiled against his chest and he placed a soft kiss on her head. “He’s a wonderful lad, Emma. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

“Does he know?”

“Smee is probably breaking the news to him right now. Since I wasn’t sure I would make it out in one piece tonight, I took precautions.” She pulled away to meet his eyes and he wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “If I didn’t make it, Liam would have found you.”

She pressed into him, her kiss both sweet and furious at the same time. “Damn you, Killian Jones,” she whispered against his lips.

“Come, Emma, let’s go meet your son. He’s waiting for you.”

/-/

The Vegas Strip was still bustling with activity at this time of the night, but, much like New York, it was a city that never slept. Emma fidgeted next to Killian as he pulled his car into a fancy driveway, her heart beating a mile a minute. He reached to squeeze her hand. “He’s going to love you, Swan.”

She waited for him to open the car door before stepping out and leaning into him. “You don’t know that.” It was the first time she’d ever voiced that fear out loud. Tonight was the first time she’d ever mentioned the son she’d given up to any living soul. She’d come close to confessing her deepest secret once upon a time, and it was to the same man she was now pressed against as they walked into the entrance of the house. In the end, it all began and ended with Killian Jones and her quest to find her son.  Funny how those two people were now intertwined with each other in a way Emma was only beginning to comprehend.

“I know he will.” Killian stopped and turned to face her, his eyes scanning her face. “After all, what’s not to love?”

His words cause a catch in her throat, leaving her speechless. Killian gave her a soft smile before he grabbed her hand, lacing her fingers with his and pulling her towards the house and into the patio inside. A few people were scattered around in groups, making small talk and drinking glasses of champagne. In the corner she saw Belle standing next to Liam. Belle caught her eye and gave her a small wave.

Emma was about to wave back but her hand stopped mid-way at the sight of the brown-haired boy who was talking with Liam. He was flanked by a young man who looked slightly familiar, and Nemo.

Emma stopped breathing. “Is that him?”

“Aye, right next to LJ, my half-brother,” Killian confirmed, his hand anchoring her to the moment.

She didn’t know what to say, or what to do. Should she just go to him and introduce herself? Her heart beat a staccato rhythm against her chest as she stood there frozen. But at that moment, Henry looked in their direction. His eyes widened and he hastily made his way towards them. His lips curved in a tentative smile and Emma held her breath.

“Mom?” he asked tentatively as he reached her, and Emma lost the battle against the tears that were coming to her eyes.

“Hey, kid.” Her voice sounded as small and tentative as his. She only barely noticed Killian letting go of her hand and stepping away to give them privacy, because she couldn't take her eyes away from the boy standing in front of her, looking at her with awe.

Suddenly, he was speaking a mile a minute. “I wanted to find you... but when I ran away before turning eighteen, I couldn’t get my hands on my files. I tried to hack the system a couple of times, but I’m not that good.” He averted his eyes for a moment, but he soon was looking at her again, as if he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Emma could understand the feeling. “I was - I was waiting to get more into this crew to ask Smee to do it for me… but-”

Emma’s hand rested on his arm, the move slow and hesitant. “It’s ok, kid. You don't’ need to explain anything. I- I should be the one explaining things to you. I’m sure you have so many questions…”

Henry rested his hand on top of hers and he gave her a beautiful smile, bright as Vegas’ neon lights, before throwing himself into her arms.

“You found me, mom.”

Emma hugged him tightly, fiercely, letting the tears pour down her cheeks. “Killian found you - for me.”

/-/

He ached to go to her. Letting go of her hand and stepping away had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done, and yet Killian knew this wasn’t his moment to intrude. This moment belonged only to Emma and Henry. Still, he hovered nearby, at a polite enough distance, but not really able to walk away completely.

LJ came up beside him, his hands crammed into his pockets. “Well, they really let you out quickly.”  

Killian shrugged. “They had nothing on me, and Nemo was gracious enough to make a couple of phone calls.” His eyes darted once again to Emma and Henry, now standing closely, heads bent, whispering to each other.

LJ followed Killian’s stare. "So... the kid is the lost son of the woman you’re desperately in love with. And she was working with Gold - against you - for a chance to have his records. The records she couldn’t get her hands on the last time because you ruined it for her in Tuscany."

The amusement in his little brother’s voice was hard to miss. Killian smirked as he reached to clasp his brother’s shoulder. “I think that is a good summary, yes.”

“Oh boy, there’s never a dull moment in this family, is it?”

“I’m afraid not,” Liam called behind them and they both turned to find him, Belle, and Nemo standing there. “But I do foresee some quiet times in our near future. Gods know we need them.” He pulled Belle even closer to him, and his eyes met Killian’s. “What I’m dying to know is… how come she didn’t maim you when she found out you got her son into the business?”

“She did,” Emma answered, her voice carrying a clear hint of mischief. She and Henry had made their way towards them. Killian turned to meet her eyes and held out his hand.

She took it and he pulled her closer to him. “Everyone, this is Emma Swan, the one from Tuscany.”

Liam and LJ nodded their heads and Belle beamed at them. LJ, sensing the mood and Killian’s need for a quiet moment with Emma, broke the moment by nudging Henry with his shoulder.

“Come, Henry. Now that we’re practically family, I’m going to play nice and teach how to bluff at poker.”

Henry didn’t rise to the bait. Instead he picked an invisible fleck from his jacket. “Thank you for the offer, but the best brother Jones - that is Killian - already taught me.”

LJ snorted. “Oh, burn. You’re going to pay for that one, circus kid.” He started walking towards the inside of the house. “Come, I’ll bet you a million that you cannot beat me.”

Henry trailed behind him. “You’re on, nimble fingers.”

“Wait a minute! I want in.” Liam said, following them inside and pulling Belle with him by their joined hands. “I’ll show you all who the best Jones is.”

“And me,” Nemo walked leisurely towards the inside, his confidence clear in every slow, sure step. “I’m going to show you all how this is done.”

Killian shook his head with fondness. “As you can see, Emma, nothing excites this family more than a poker game…”

Emma was studying him, her lips curved in a soft smile. “So… now what?”

He brought her into his embrace, his arms circling on her waist as he swayed on his feet. “Well, there is this Tuscan town I’ve been meaning to go back to. After you and Henry get acquainted, are you interested in taking a trip with me?”

“What kind of trip?” Her voice had risen an octave. “Those people were amazing to me as I got drunk and cried my eyes out over you. Please don’t tell me this is a recon to pull another job because I swear to god…. “

She was endearing, and infuriating, and was totally missing his point. He placed a finger on her lips and stopped her tirade.

“Get him up,” Gold ordered, and his two goons moved to follow orders, pulling Killian up without any consideration to his possible wounds. Once again, Killian mustered all his energy to play his part. Lifting his head, he met Gold’s eyes. His suit jacket was askew, his shirt untucked, and a couple of buttons were missing. His pants had dust marks all over them. Tilting his head to the side, Killian smiled at Gold, wincing at the very last minute to show pain.

“Gold, I didn’t think you’d grace me with your presence. Not when you had such a wonderful host tending to my every need.” He spat on the floor - a mix of saliva and blood. Anton had been gentle, but the man was a still a half-giant with a steel punch. “Tell me, how is the other fight going? It is as fixed as this one?”

“Did you have a hand in this?” Gold scrutinized his face, his eyes drilling a hole on Killian’s forehead.

“A hand in what?” Killian moved his eyes around room, working to appear as if he were assessing the space. “Your wife? You know I did.”

The punch came from his left, one of Gold’s goons hitting his cheekbone and making Killian see stars. He moved his jaw left and right. He deserved that one, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d say it again if the opportunity arise.

“I’m going to ask you one more time, dearie.” Gold leaned on his cane, his mouth twisting in a grimace. “Did you have a hand in this?”

“Gold, I have no bloody clue what you’re talking about.” Killian spat the words, ensuring he was delivering them with the appropriately frustrated tone. “I’ve been locked up in here, a room with no view I might add, my body getting closely acquainted with the fists of your roughneck.”

Silence stretched between them, feeling the room with a thick air of anticipation as Killian waited and waited some more, his face devoid of any emotion except confusion, pain, and tiredness. He was pulling out all the stops on this one. It would make Nemo proud if he could see him. But alas, no cameras in this room.

Finally, Gold tilted his head, his face contorting into a condescending smile. “Fine. You’re free to go, Mr. Jones.” He moved to address his man. “Show him out. We have work to do.”

Killian made a show of buttoning his shirt back up and tugging at the lapels of his jacket before he made to follow the men out of the room. One more step down, only a few more to go.

He needed to give the delivery of his lifetime and he needed to do it at the appropriate time in the appropriate place.

After all, it was all about the setting.

/-/

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Emma asked the question for what felt like the eleventh time, although it truthfully was only the third or fourth. A duffel bag laid open on the bed and a suitcase already stood by the entrance. Her packing was almost done. She hadn’t brought much - part of always being on the road or on the run meant you got used to living with only carrying the essentials - and she was finishing arranging her toiletries in her bag.

She’d been in Belle’s suite when she’d received the call from Gold. It hadn’t taken her by surprise. The moment the power went out, Emma knew her chances with Gold were gone. And if she were honest with herself, Emma knew the moment she didn’t inform Gold that she’d spotted Killian Jones lurking around his casino, she’d made her choice. And now she had to live with it. Belle had gone with her to Emma’s room and was currently pacing back and forth.

“I don’t want you to get into trouble.” She pulled the sides of her cardigan sweater tight over her frame, averting her eyes.

“I don’t care about being in trouble, Belle.”

“I’m sorry, Emma” Belle was on the verge of tears. “Robert, he sometimes-”

Emma closed the distance between them and laid a comforting hand on Belle’s arm. “Hey, hey. You’re not responsible for what Gold does. Or Liam, or any of them for that matter.” She smiled, an idea coming to her. “Belle why don't’ you come with me? What are you going to do here anyway?” She didn’t want to leave Belle alone - or at the mercy of Gold if he figured out who was behind the robbery. It wasn’t just that she’d promised Killian, it was that Belle didn’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire.

Belle shook her head, pursing her lips. “I can’t… not yet. I just I need time to think.”

Emma kept her voice gentle. “Think about what?”

“Whether or not I can trust him again.”

Emma didn’t ask which him Belle meant, because by the frazzled look in her eyes, she wasn’t sure even Belle herself knew. She only knew she couldn’t leave her here in this state.

“How about a cup of tea before I go?” Before Belle had time to protest, Emma shrugged her shoulder. “Look if Gold wants to time my exit and remove me forcefully, so be it. I’m a big girl, I can take it.”

Belle pondered her words for a moment before she gave Emma a small smile. “Let me get the Keurig settled.” She stepped out of the bedroom and moved into the living room. Emma quickly shut her duffel bag and grabbed it. She was about to leave the room when her phone rang. The screen read Unknown Number. Her heart beating frantically on her chest, Emma took the call.

“Hello?”

The voice that spoke sounded tiny, like it was far, far away. “Turn to channel 88. Make sure Belle is watching.”

Reaching for the remote, and fearing the worst, Emma turned on the TV. The image on the screen and the little piece of sound she was able to catch had Emma quickly raising her voice as she called for Belle.

“Belle, come here! You might want to ditch the tea and bring some alcohol instead.”

/-/

We’re all set.

Those words were exactly what Killian had been waiting for as he slowly walked down the hallway, dragging his feet a little in an effort to show he’d been beaten to a pulp by Anton.

He lifted his head and spoke into the emptiness ahead of him. “What happened tonight? Did you get robbed or something?”

Gold’s reply from the other side of the hall came almost immediately. “Stop.”

Stopping in his tracks, Killian bent his head as he turned around, hiding his smirk. When he finally looked up, Gold was in his face.

“I am going to give you one more time to come forward, dearie. Where is my money?”

“Are you willing to make a deal for it, Gold?” Killian waited for two seconds, letting the words sink in and peak Gold’s interest. “What if I tell you that you can get your money back if you give up Belle?”

Gold raised his eyebrows and twisted his lips in a grimace. “Belle, huh?”

Killian shrugged. “What can I say? My brother still loves her. They were happy together.” Meeting his eyes directly, Killian dropped the affable mask. “You and I both know the only reason you went after her was because you knew it’d bring my brother pain. And therefore, it would bring me pain.”

Gold didn’t even flinch, his smile turning into something evil and maniac. “Oh yes, I intended to make you suffer. I still do.”

“Careful there. You need me if you want to get your money back. So why don’t we try that again?”

Gold hesitated and Killian knew he was weighing in on his options. Was his hatred for Killian and his family so deep that he’d risk never seeing his hundreds of millions again? Killian wasn’t going to give the man too much time to make a decision. “Do we have a deal, Gold?”

“Fine.” Gold huffed and Killian allowed himself a tiny smile. It would be out of character if he didn’t at least show some satisfaction about one-upping his nemesis.

“I know some people. I made a few new contacts while teaching celebrities to play poker in L.A. Give me a few days, I’ll find out who has your money.”

Gold wasn’t impressed, not in the least. He clenched his jaw and Killian had to bite his tongue to keep the smile off from his face. “I will hunt you down, dearie. This is not over. I can still make you suffer.”

Killian adjusted the lapels of his suit. “That threat got old a few years ago, and you’ve burnt more than your fair share of bridges since then. Especially with the people you’d hired to hunt me down last time. Such a tricky thing, not paying your debts.” Killian paused and shot him a small grin. “And let’s face it, anyone else you can think of hiring to hurt me and my brother like us more than they like you. So unless you’re willing to get your own hands dirty, which we know you aren’t, you’re left with no other choice."

Gold’s eye twitched and for a moment there, Killian thought he was going to punch him. But in the end, he simply gave Killian a dark look before turning to one of his security guards. “Call the police. Alert them of Liam Jones possibly breaking his parole, as I’m sure he’s nearby, and turn Mr. Jones here into their custody. He was acting suspiciously on casino grounds.”

Well, that was nothing that a little charm and some bail money couldn’t fix. And Killian had both in spades now. He let the guard walk him to the casino lobby. As he was being escorted, the ding of the elevator made him turn his head just in time to see Emma and Belle quickly making their way out of the hotel, carrying a suitcase and travel bag between them. They were close to the entrance when Ursula approached them.

As he waited for the police to show up, Killian couldn’t hide his smile. Belle and Emma clearly had gotten the message.

All was well.

The lights came back on suddenly, their brightness blinding for a brief moment. She reached for Belle, ensuring she was still standing next to her.

And then chaos erupted.

In the ring, the two boxers were fighting, their people trying to pull them apart as tempers ran high. The violence spread to the audience and Emma could only imagine what the casino floor would be like. The lights out, all those chips within reach, everyone blind and no one to put a stop to it. It would be too big a temptation for most people.

She was sure it wasn’t pretty on the floor.

Moving into action, she instructed Belle to grab her coat and stood next to her as they exited the arena with Gold. The man’s face was twisted into a grimace, his eyes flashing bright and his posture rigid. A man like him didn’t like losing control and that was exactly what was happening, and on a night that required him to take extra precaution. If Killian had wanted to put the man on edge, he sure picked the exact thing to do just that.

Emma’s hand twitched at her side as she remembered that Killian was currently being held somewhere in this building, at the mercy of Gold and the thugs that made up his ‘security’ team. But before she could follow those thoughts to their natural conclusion, her jacket pocket vibrated and an unknown ringtone blared through the air around them. Shaking her head in confusion, she reached inside her pocket as Gold and Belle halted.

She looked down to find a burner phone, the display flashing with an incoming call from an unknown number.

“Are you going to answer, Miss Swan?” Gold’s voice was flat and curt, a man obviously annoyed by another interruption to his already hectic evening.

“This isn’t mine,” Emma stated before she swiped the screen and answered the call. “Hello?”

“Can I speak with Mr. Gold, please.” The voice on the other side was distorted, and not by static. Something was masking the voice to make it unrecognizable.

The hairs on the nape of her neck rose in an instant, but she tamped it down. Panicking right now would solve nothing. Keeping her voice calm and even, she handed the phone over to Gold. “They are requesting to speak with you.”

With a huff, Gold grabbed the phone from her hand and put it in his ear. “Who is this?”

The reply came loud and clear through the speaker. “The man who’s robbing you.”

Emma turned around, her eyes scanning the place as she reached for her taser. There were multiple incidents going on around them, but nothing security wasn’t already handling. Gold seemed to have done the same, because his reply came back a second later.

“I don’t see anything going on in my casino that my team is not already taking care of.”

“You might want to take a closer look, Mr. Gold.”

/-/

The trek to the security room was a short one, and while neither of them ran, they sure put some speed in their steps. Muting the phone, Gold entered the room, his eyes scanning the monitors.

“Is there something out of order on any of the floors? The vault? The library?!?”

The security guards sat with their backs straight, all of them leaning in to study their monitors. “Everything looks fine, sir. We had a couple of incidents on the floor, but nothing that our team doesn’t now have under control.”

Just as they finished speaking, a few of the monitors blinked, their images suddenly changing. Emma’s eyes widened as she walked towards the monitors, what she saw on them making her gasp out loud despite herself. Three masked men were in the vault, tossing stacks of cash onto bags that laid on the floor. The three guards charged to protect the vault were lying bound and unconscious in the corridor, their submachine guns pushed well out of reach.

Gold was being robbed. And she knew exactly by whom.

Emma turned to find Gold clenching his jaw, and the hand that wasn’t holding the phone morphed into a fist at his side. “Find out how much money we have in there tonight.”

The room erupted into a buzz of activity, the noise making hard for Emma to concentrate on anything other than the masked figures moving around unhindered the best-guarded vault in Las Vegas.

The ice in Gold’s voice broke her from her thoughts. “Alright, dearie. You've broken into my vault. Congratulations, you're a dead man.”

“There’s no need for threats, Robert.”

Gold looked like he wanted to punch something. Or someone. “Here’s a non-threat for you: good luck trying to exit my vault - or my casino for that matter - unscathed. You’re trapped down there.”

“Mhmmm. Perhaps. Perhaps I’ll simply have you carry the money out of the vault for me. By now your records have told you that you have a little over 160 million in that vault, you know, with it being fight night and all. Now, take a closer look.”

Everyone in the room - Gold, Emma, Belle, the security personnel - leaned closer to the monitors. Next to the bags being packed sat a stack of money in the middle of the floor, carefully bound with a few packs resting on top

“Are you watching? That there is half of your money, being held hostage and booby-trapped.”

Gold closed his eyes and punched the console next to the video feed. Time seemed to stretch for an eternity, but it had to have been no more than a minute or two. When he opened his eyes, he stared directly at Emma. “Miss Swan, please escort Belle to her suite and keep her safe.”

“But Robert, I -” Belle started, but Gold waived his hand in dismissal.

“I need to deal with this, Belle.”

He turned his back on them without another word, completely focused on talking to his security people. Belle’s face crumpled for a second, the hint of a few tears coming to her eyes. Before Emma could reach out to offer support, she shook her head, turned around, and stormed out of the room. Emma hurried after her, trying to keep up with Belle’s furious steps.

“Belle, wait!” she called after her.

Without warning, Belle came to a halt and Emma almost ran into her. As she took a step back, she looked over Belle’s shoulder to see what had caused her to freeze in her tracks.

A familiar back dressed in white shirt.

A familiar head of black hair.

And a very familiar voice speaking over the phone.

“You let half of the money go, and you get to keep your eighty. That's the deal. You try to stop us, we'll blow everything up. You’ll lose it all.”

He slowly turned around, Emma was faced with a smirking Killian Jones giving both her and Belle a once over. Biting his lower lip, he tilted his head and spoke again. “Gold, you can choose to secretly lose eighty million dollars tonight or you can lose a hundred sixty million publicly. It's your decision. I’ll even give you five minutes to think about it, but at the end of that time, I’ll need to know... Do we have a deal?”

Putting the phone on mute, he lifted his chin towards them. “Hello, love. Did you miss me?”

/-/

“Killian how did you-?”

“Escape?” The bastard cut her off, a smug grin sliding across his face. “It cost me a few million, but nothing I can’t afford if this goes through. Which it will.”

The ass had the nerve to wink at her with that last one.

If Killian thought Gold would fold that easily, he was deluding himself. “Gold is not going to fall for this trick, Killian.” She wasn’t sure why she was saying anything at all, she should be calling Gold’s security and having Killian escorted to one of their holding rooms. Again.

She should. Gold had hired her. She worked for the man and needed this night to go smoothly so she could finally have the answers she’d been looking for.

As if reading her mind, Killian smug smile faded, his eyes filling with concern. “Gold was never going to help you. He’ll find a loophole in the deal and back out. Or he’ll find some way to string you along, promises of just one more job before he delivers on what he’s promised. Deep inside, you know it. You know I’m right.” He caressed her cheek, and she wanted nothing more than to lean into it and forget the world outside of them existed. He moved his arm, holding the phone back as he leaned in, his forehead almost touching hers. “I have the answers you seek, Emma.”

His confession took the air from her lungs. He couldn’t know, could he? Emma searched his eyes looking for the lie, for any hint that his words were just an attempt to con her. But there was nothing but truth swimming in the blue of his eyes and the broken way he whispered fervently. “Come with me. Your career is in shambles. You know he was behind several bad deals gone wrong. You know none of his promises matter. Come with me, love."

She hesitated, her heart beating frantically against her chest, her thoughts racing through her head. She wanted two seconds, just two seconds to breathe and think this through.

Belle’s voice brought both of them back from their own little world. “Wait a minute…” She looked between the two of them. Realization dawned in her eyes. “This is her? She’s the one from Tuscany?” She swatted at Killian’s arm. “I can’t believe you, Killian Jones.”

Chuckling, he pulled away from Emma. “You can’t believe what? The lengths we would go to get the girl?” His eyes glinted with mischief. “Think again, Belle, and while you’re at it, think about where your husband might be right now.”

Belle stomped her foot on the floor. “That idiot!” Turning around, she quickly darted down the hallway with a stream of expletives flying from her mouth.

Emma started to go after her. “Belle…”

Killian, though, caught her arm and brought her back to him. “Let her go, Swan. This was not their first fight and it won’t be their last.” Bringing his attention back to the phone, he motioned for her to remain silent. “I’m glad we see eye to eye, Mr. Gold. This is how this is going to work. Ten minutes from now, the men in the vault are going to deposit six bags in the vault elevator. I’ll wait until you find someone to write this down.”

Cupping the phone again, his eyes searched hers. “Looks like Gold just bit the bait and I really need to get going. So I need to know: are you in or are you out, Swan?”

It was a decision she needed to make in a split second. Though, she wasn’t sure she really needed even that. She knew she shouldn’t, she really shouldn’t, but crashing her lips to his, Emma decided to take a leap of faith. When she finally broke the kiss, they were both breathless. “You better deliver, Jones.”

He smiled and reached out to seal his lips over hers one more time. “You know I will. Now wait for me. Pretend like you still care about the security of this place or something, and keep Belle safe. Please.”

His lips curved in a smug smirk. “I would say that allegedly I’ve taken part in other schemes. There has been no proof or conviction, darli- ma’am”. He caught himself at the very last moment and forced himself to lose the smirk and put on a sheepish smile. He needed these people on his side. He needed them to believe him.

He cleared his throat, lowering his head a little before he faced the panel again, a self-deprecating smile coming to his face. “I know you’re wondering why I did the things I got convicted for. I trusted the wrong people. I thought I was walking into an honest deal and I found myself in the middle of a crime I hadn’t meant and didn’t want to commit. Everything spiraled downhill from there - my wife left me, I had ended up in a dark place. The first few weeks in prison were not easy. But I’m doing better now and I want to redeem myself. I want to do better, get my life back on track, see my brother.”

He paused for a moment, letting the words sink in, trying very hard to build a momentum. “I - I want-” his voice faltered and he cleared his throat, tilting his head to the side in a lopsided smile. “I want to do the right thing.” He delivered the words with solemnity, as if he were taking a vow for a life commitment… he could only hope they’d buy it.

They did.

A few hours later, he stood in front of a mirror, tugging his cuffs and adjusting his shoulders. He felt as if the suit was bringing him back to the man he once was. The small gold band sitting in his jacket pocket felt inordinately heavy though, and he took a beat to look at his reflection in the mirror. His chin was now covered in scruff that he’d taken to grooming only every few days, and his brown hair seemed darker now and was clearly in need of a trim as it curled at the ends. But his money-making smile was still there, and his blue eyes still were able to pull the earnest puppy stare that had brought him so many good moments in his life.

With a deep breath, he pulled the ring out of his pocket and slid it on his finger, where it belonged. It has always belonged there, and he had every intention of keeping it that way. Turning around, he knocked on the wall and then slipped his hands into his pockets.

A guard came down and escorted him to the exit, his steps dragging next to him. He faced him before opening the final door between him and freedom.

“Ready for your new life, Mr. Jones?”

“I’m ready.”

Stepping out of the minimum security correctional facility, he vowed to himself that he’d never come back. They caught him once, shame on the ones that had betrayed him. If they caught him twice, it would be a shame on him. And he’d make damn sure that would never happen. He had plans for his life, and they didn’t involve another stint in jail.

Liam Jones was going to get back what belonged to him.

And a few other things that didn’t.

/-/

There was always comfort in the little details. Standing in the middle of one of the many casino’s main floor in the city, he took a moment to close his eyes, take a deep breath, and let it all sink in. The buzz of hundreds of whispered conversations, the clang of the coins pouring from the slot machines, the roll of the dice against felt, the distinct sound of the ball skipping along the roulette wheel. They each came together in a perfect cacophony. Combine them with the smell of liquor, cheap perfume, sweat, and cigarette smoke that not even smoking restriction laws had been able to completely eradicate, it produced an ambience that Liam loved like the second home it was to him.

Opening his eyes, Liam scanned the room trying to find what he was looking for. He couldn’t find it, but it was ok… he could kill some time at one of the tables and let the story unravel itself. He was sure that if he didn’t find her, she will find him.

He sat at one of the tables, reaching into his pocket to pull a couple of crumpled hundred-dollar bills. He had beaten a poor fool at pool in one of the pit stops on his journey to Atlantic City, getting himself a few hundred bills that he now needed to put to work if he wanted to have some sort of steady petty cash to support him for the next few weeks.

His fingers traced a pattern on the felt and the feel of the soft texture under his fingertips send shivers down his spine. He was home. Or as closer to home as he’d ever been. He tilted his head, letting a lazy smile coming to his lips as he looked at the croupier calling for the bets. He tossed a few chips and waited.

The croupier smiled to the table - that flirty I’m on your side half hidden smile that had naives fooled - and she started to deal the hand.

Liam’s mind woke up, sharpening with each whir of cards shuffling and being dealt on the felt. His eyes zeroed in on the table, his brain analyzing every bit of information about the game, every possibility and most likely outcomes. Like breathing, his mind drifted over different tactics and he made his move.

Nineteen. The house pulled eighteen.  Win.

Fourteen. The house ran over.  Win.

He put all his wins on the next bet. Black Jack.

Bloody hell, it was good to be back.

It wasn’t long until a second dealer showed up, a pit boss circling nearby like a vulture waiting for its prey. The new dealer smiled, arranging her hair to the side and showing up her cufflinks to the table before speaking. There was only a hint of nerves on her voice, but Liam could feel it. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, my name is Tina and I’ll be dealing for you.” Her eyes darted quickly in Liam’s direction, a warning hint passing fleetingly before she was back to her professional self.

Liam played with the chips, dropping them one by one on the felt as everyone else on the table made their bets. It was only him left.

“Sir, in or out?” Tina called, an eyebrow rising slightly at him.

Liam tilted his head and made tsk sound with the corner of his mouth. “Out. The table is cold anyway.” He flipped a chip with his thumb and the croupier caught it, a smile gracing her lips.

“You might want to try the lounge at the Olympus. I heard it gets interesting around one.”

Liam smiled as he stood up and buttoned his suit jacket. “I’ll be sure to check it out, thank you for the tip.”

At precisely one clock, he was nursing his glass of straight Macallan when he felt someone sitting next to him.

He smiled and tilted his head as he took a sip of his whiskey. “Fancy meeting you here, Tina.”

The woman next to him gave him a feline smile, her hand signaling to the bartender. “Ursula Mount couldn’t pass a gaming board. Tina Matthews definitely can.” She nodded to the bartender that placed her drink in front of her and took a sip before her eyes focused on him. “When did you get out?”

“This morning.”

“I see that you’ve come out a new man and all that,” Ursula offered sarcastically, her eyes drifting to the drink in Liam’s hand and his whereabouts.

Liam shrugged nonchalantly and tapped a finger on the newspaper that laid open next to him. “Just having one drink and catching up with current events.”

“I can save you some time on that: Gold tore down the Nautilus.” There was a hint of regret and sadness in Ursula’s voice, her eyes also dimming as she spoke the words.

Liam’s own eyes reflected that sadness, his head lowering down and he ran a hand through his hair. “How’s Nemo doing?”

“As bad as expected, an even a little worse. Dad called him, tried to get him to come here for a few weeks, but it was a futile attempt. I wouldn’t blame the man, as Dad is going through his own set of past-midlife crisis.”

“Is he?” Liam asked concerned. Things were not looking up for him with this news.

“He retired.” Ursula shivered as if the words were harming her. “Spends most of his time at the horse’s race, eating walnuts and claiming he’s going to buy a condo in Boca next year.”

Liam pondered her words. “That’s bad.”

“That’s beneath him… but he doesn’t seem to care anymore.” Ursula gulped down the rest of her drink and order another. “But I don't’ blame him. The business has changed for us. Too much technology at the ready, too many variables to control. Tangible assets are hard to find unless you want to start embezzling regular people out of their hidden savings.”

Liam shivered in disgust. “That’s just plain bad form.”

“I know… but banks are highly protected and even if you can get there, it’s all electronics any way. Other than the Federal Reserve… what’s left?”

“Casinos.”

Liam waited for two beats before he locked his eyes to Ursula’s. Her eyes had widened in surprise before she gave him a mischievous smile. “What are you up to, Liam Jones?”

He feigned offense. “Me? Nothing. I’m just a man who’s been given a second chance and intends to be a law-abiding citizen.” He cocked an eyebrow at her and Ursula, catching his meaning, quickly nodded.

Good. One done, more to go.

“All I care about at this moment is to reunite with my beloved family.” Liam played with the edge of his glass. “Do you know where he is?”

“Last I heard, he was down in L.A., teaching celebrities how to play cards.”

“You’re bloody kidding me,” Liam blurted out without being able to hide his contempt.

Ursula sighed and her eyes dimmed again. “He all but disappeared, and has made himself hard to keep track of. After Tuscany, he seemed to have lost his edge. And then you got caught and it seems he only went downhill from there. Without you, he’s been lost, Liam.”

It seems everyone - his friends, his mentor, his own brother -  and everything had fallen apart while he was sporting orange suits and mopping floors.

“Well, good luck I’m finally here to make you all find yourselves again.” He placed a few notes on the counter and stood. “I better get to work then.”

“Heading to L.A.?”

Liam nodded. “Right after I call my parole officer and promise not to leave the state.”

Ursula shook her head, a smile coming to her lips. “I’ll see you again, soon.”

Liam took her hand and kissed it. “I’ll send word.”

He turned around and left the bar.

Hang on, little brother. I’m on my way.

/-/

This could not be his life.

That was the mantra Killian Jones kept repeating to himself, his fingers working over the knots and numbness licking across the scar that wound along his left wrist and forearm. He massaged along the lines of the tattoo that covered the worst of it, but there was still some scarring visible.

Sweat slicked down his skin, pooling at his throat and along his brow. The heat and the humidity here were going to kill him. That was not an exaggeration, no matter what Liam might have said about him having a penchant towards the dramatic. His shirt was sticking to his skin, causing an itch to ghost at his neck and the small of his back. It was enough to make him want to book the first plane out of town. It didn’t exactly matter where, as long as it led to a chillier location where at least a thick sweater and a leather jacket would be needed to be near the ocean.

But he reminded himself that none of that mattered now.

Taking a deep breath that probably qualified as more of a sigh, he crossed the posh bar - with its dim lights, black lacquered furniture and chromed steeled decoration -, making his way into the back VIP room. He stretched his head to the side, straining the muscles of his neck as he took a seat at the round table. Five up-and-coming Hollywood celebrities sat around it, each of them smiling as they waited eagerly for his lessons on how to play poker magnificently.

Killian would be lucky if they remembered to deal to the correct side and how many cards made a hand by the end of the night.

“Alright lads and lasses, let the game begin.” He smirked at the table, his eyes scanning each of them as he dealt the first hand. One of the women - Katie? Zoey? They all look the same to him these days and none of them seemed worth the effort - batted her eyelashes at him.  She played coyly with her hair, curling a strand around her fingers as she leaned towards him, her eyes hooded and her voice laced with intent as she bent over the table and asks for the tenth time that night if he felt himself lucky.

Not a chance, lass.

For the next forty minutes, Killian tried - and failed - to teach any of these bloody buffoons the basics of poker. It was as if they couldn’t retain even the simplest of information or even attempt the most basic calculations. It was a miracle their agents hadn’t embezzled any of what they’ve made, and Killian was seriously considering a massive scheme of his own on them when they collectively decided it was time for a break and ordered a round of martinis.

Kale Martinis.

What hell had he entered when he agreed to this?

Unable to get away fast enough, he made his way to the bar on the main floor where he ordered a glass of rum with two ice cubes, swallowed it back in one gulp, and asked the bartender to refill the glass with a wave of his hand. He took a moment to hold the drink to his temple, willing it to soothe away the pounding headache that was forming above his right eye. He really needed to walk away from this dreadful existence. He lifted his eyes to the stage across the room, but not even the sight of the dancers, their sculpted legs, tight abs, and bright smiles, made him feel anything at all. He was numb. Everything in his life staking up as one dull moment after another, all blurring together with the flashing lights of the endless row of nightclubs and the stale smell of private poker games.

He needed out. He just didn’t know how.

The walk back to the VIP room felt like walking towards the gallows, his feet leaden, each step a monumental effort to take. His head hurt, his scars itched under his tattoo, and he simply didn’t want to be there. The voices within drifted through the open door, and he realized he must have been more tired than he thought because he was clearly hearing things. There was no possible way someone else would have joined the table. But when he finally entered the room, the sight before him made him freeze in place.

Liam.

It couldn’t be. Killian blinked - slowly, deliberately - just to be sure. But Liam was still sitting there when he finished, perched on a chair he’d pulled up to the end of the table, the smirk resting on his lips in only the way his older brother could do.

Bloody fucking hell.

Taking a moment to compose himself, Killian swaggered to the table. “I see we have company.”

“Oh, yes.” Tyler pointed to the ‘stranger,’ showing his cards to the table in the process. Killian shook his head in defeat.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Liam drawled. “I was told it was ok if I joined.”

His brother was up to something, and it only took Killian a second to catch up. “Not at all.” He reached for the deck of cards and leaned back, cutting and shuffling it with one hand in one swift move. He cocked an eyebrow at Liam. “It’d be good to have some competition.”

He dealt the cards and took a quick look at his hand. Two beats later, Liam made his initial bet of five hundred.

“Now, lads, remember rule number one of poker.” He looked around at the table, only to find all of his students looking blankly at him.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. He was done with this shit.

“Leave emotion at the door. The game should never be personal.”

“Your teacher here has a point.” Liam countered, tilting his head and giving the table his trademark smirk. He could see Katie/Zoey and Lili instinctively leaning closer to him, causing Killian to have to reign in the laugh that threatened to burst past his lips. “Neither should be pulling a job for the wrong reasons.”

He had him there, and Killian could only nod in turn. “Now… if I were to read this table at the moment, I would tell you that our friend here is diverting the attention. He made a big bet and now is sitting there waiting for you to call it. The question is… is he bluffing? A bet this strong in the beginning makes me think he is.”

“Maybe you should call it and see.” Liam’s soft voice carried a challenge that could not be denied.

Oh, his brother had always been good.

Killian called and the rest went in turn, some of them following his lead but a couple took the bait and raised the bet. At one point, Liam had to make KJ fold - even they couldn’t let someone who needed to change out four cards continue betting, there was such a thing as good form after all - and then raised the bet one more time. Heavily.

“Now,” Killian continued, “he could have a very good hand. Or he could be trying to buy his way out of his initial bluff.” He cupped his cards and tapped the bottom of them against the table. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but let me tell you something my older brother once told me: A man not willing to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.”

Liam raised an eyebrow at him. “Your brother is a wise man.”

“More like a self-righteous wanker,” Killian retorted. “But he’s family.”

He didn’t miss the way Liam’s eyes flashed before the action at the table broke the moment. Soon the pot was in the tens of thousands and everyone showed their cards.

Liam was the last. He seemed to fidget for a second before fanning his hand out across the table.

Four nines and an ace.

Killian grinned. Damn, brother, it’s good to have you back.

The game ended, the budding celebrity dilettantes exiting quickly out of the VIP room to take selfies, update their Instagram status, and work their social media footprint. Killian’s glare was enough to put off any requests for him to join in the pictures they wanted to post. After a few more handshakes and a promise that he’d let them know when the next game would take place, Killian finally left the club via the back exit. He didn’t want any more attention on himself. Craning his neck to the side and letting the tension lift from his shoulders, he searched the surrounding area until he found what he was looking for.

Liam was standing a few yards away, his hands in his pockets, artfully leaning against the stucco wall of the building across the way. Killian slipped over to stand beside him. Without even a sideways glance, Liam took his hand out of his pocket and handed him a stack of bills. His cut for tonight’s job.

“Teaching poker to celebrities? Really, little brother? How low have you fallen…” The humor in Liam’s voice almost brought tears to Killian’s eyes. He’d missed him so much, and it had been hell to stay away while he was in the joint. Liam had been adamant, though, that he didn’t want visitors. Not even Killian.

“I’m bored, Liam,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I know you are and I have just the thing to snap you out of your funk.” Liam clasped his hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here and I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Coffee,” Killian amended and chuckled at his brother’s raised eyebrow. “I assume I’ll want all my wits about me for whatever it is you’re about to tell me.”

“Probably.”

/-/

Killian sat across from his brother, the two of them occupying a hidden booth in the corner of a deserted dinner while he waited as patiently as he could for Liam to tell him the plan. But after a few minutes, it seemed his brother was still pondering how to start.

“Just bloody tell me, Liam.”

Liam sighed and ran his hand through his hair and Killian smiled at just how much he had missed watching that trademark Jones move. “It’s tricky and it would require a large crew that I need your help gathering together.”

“Of course you do.” Killian shrugged, as he leaned back and played with his saucer, rotating it on the plate with one finger. “I’m the charmer.”

“And I’m the brains.”

“I wouldn’t do that far, but let’s say you’re a tiny bit better than me at planning the big picture.” He held up his hand, holding his thumb and forefinger together. But only just a tad.” He wasn’t cowered by Liam’s glare. His brother could take the hit. “What’s the target?”

“Been to Vegas lately?”

Killian’s smile dropped. Surely Liam didn’t mean…. “You want to hit a casino.”

Liam shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee. “Not one. Three.”

Killian choked. “Are you out of your mind? We can’t take on three casinos.”

“Yes, we can, little brother. And we will.”

Liam pulled a folded-up piece of paper from his jacket and spread it open on the table. Killian leaned over to take a look. It was a floorplan. Killian studied it with the keen eye he was known for in the business.

“If I’m reading this right - and you know I am - this is the least accessible vault I’ve ever seen.” Killian’s fingers traced the floorplan, his mind scanning all the possible ways to bypass the security measures. “And this is only one casino.”

Liam pointed out two main ways in on the blueprint. “These two feed into the cages of The Gold and The Dagger. Every single dollar ends up in this vault. The vault of The Baelfire.”  

“The Baelfire, The Gold and The Dagger.” Realization dawned on Killian. Bloody hell. “Liam these are Gold’s casinos.” Leave it to his brother to go this route.

“It’s about time we hit him, don’t you think?”

Yes, beyond time as far as Killian was concerned, but he wasn’t convinced it was the best idea at this juncture. But a part of him couldn’t help himself, already jumping into planning mode and seeing the picture unfold in front of his eyes.

“How many people do you think we need? Seven or eight?”

“Hell, no. We need at least ten. And we need a variety of things happening at the same time.”

Liam crossed his arms over his chest.  “A Boesky.”

Killian mirrored his brother’s stance and tilted his head as he saw it all play in front of him. “A Jim Brown, two Jethros.”

Liam seemed to be envisioning the same picture he was. “A Miss Daisy and a Leon Spinks.”

“And the biggest Ella Fitzgerald in the bloody history of cons.” Killian sighed. “Unless you tell me you met a rich widow via letter while in jail, we don’t have the start-up capital to back this.”

“We don’t… but you and I know someone who would love to help us fuck Gold over.” There was something somber in Liam’s voice and Killian knew he had to address that eventually, but his mind was already going to the same place Liam was trying to steer him to.

“Nemo.”

It made sense that their former mentor would want to be part of this. Gold had managed to get Nemo out of the business, and tore down his beloved casino, The Nautilus, once he had. Nemo had spiraled down into depression ever since and not even Killian’s outrageous tales of the teen celebrities he was teaching were able to bring a smile to the man’s face. Maybe this was a step in the right direction.

But Killian still needed more. Something was not adding up. “I need a reason, Liam.”

His brother shrugged. “Eight figures each. That should be reason enough.”

No, it wasn’t. Not if they were going to risk so much. “Come on, Liam. Don’t tell me this is about the money. You and I can play safer schemes and make decent money. Probably not eight figures, but enough to grant us a good life.” His eyes bored into his brother’s. “Tell me why.”

Something dark flickered in Liam’s eyes and Killian had a keen sense of the man his brother had to become while surviving in jail. “Because I walked out of prison after losing two years of my life. Because you’ve gone adrift and it has gotten so bad that you’re teaching the latest TMZ headliners how to play cards. And you’re not even succeeding. Because it’s time we make Gold pay… and we hit him where it will hurt.” He paused. “Because no one messes with the Brothers Jones.”

Silence. One beat, two, and then three.

“Did I rush it?” Liam asked, his voice hesitant.

“No, it was a good speech. You were always good at motivational speeches.”

“What do you say, Killian? Shall we do this?”

He’d been spotted and he’d soon be dealt with. The first part of the mission had been accomplished.

The comm in his ear blasted with the sound of Smee’s voice. “Poseidon has entered the nest. Ariel and Eric are on their way to Henry. Liam is in position.”

Killian stood up, using the excuse of craning his neck from side to side to scan his surroundings and identify the people that would be assigned to go after him. Soon enough, he spotted two goons headed his way. Hiding a smirk, he moved towards the blackjack tables. Keeping his voice low, he spoke into his comm. “LJ, you’re up.”

The reply came almost instantly. “On it.”

Several things were required to happen at the same time. While Killian would love to be sitting next to Smee in the control room, watching them all unfold, he had a part to play in the action. The part Liam should have played but couldn’t, and all because of the striking blonde he finally spotted near the roulette tables.

She was dressed for the occasion - crisp black slacks, red halter top, and black jacket. It was the perfect combination of elegant mystique and simple practicality that a security liaison should have.

An ache of longing spread through Killian’s chest. He desperately wanted to sweep her from the room and find the nearest place where they could be alone, this heist and her job be damned.

But the show must go on.

Sighing, he purposely crossed the distance between him and Emma. A quick glance to the side confirmed that LJ had engaged Gold, thus keeping the man unaware of Killian’s movements. In that precise moment, the two of them reached Ursula at her table, and the woman’s frustrated act was a sight to behold. She was truly her father’s daughter. With a final squeak, she moved towards LJ in a clear attack attempt, thus creating a world of confusion between her, LJ, Gold, and his floor section manager.

Well, confusing for the rest, but Killian saw it clearly.

Neatly and flawlessly, his little brother had pilfered the codes from Gold’s inside pocket.

All that was needed now was a diversion to bring everyone’s attention some place else and let LJ off the hook.

And lucky for all of them, he thought as he reached Emma’s side, Killian Jones was the perfect man to deliver it.

“Emma.”

Her eyes widened and she pursed her lips. “Killian, don’t do this. Whatever this is.” Her voice was half a plea and half an order, and, if he could, he would have granted her wish.

“You can’t stop it.” He reached to tuck an errant strand of her hair behind her ear but stopped himself before doing it. She’d probably knee him if he dared to touch her.

“I red-flagged your brother. I’ve been able to identify at least four of your known associates and I can easily scan the premises for their presence.” She fisted her hand at her side, her eyes pleading. “You can’t pull this off. You need to get out of here before Gold sees you.” That final sentence undid him. A part of her still cared, and whatever the outcome tonight, he’d carry that memory with him for the rest of his life.

He gave her a lopsided smirk, allowing himself to trace his finger on her cheek. “It’s too late, darling.”

Her eyes widened a moment before she narrowed them, finally reading his intention. “You - you did this on purpose.”

In for a penny, in for a pound. He leaned in, careful to time the moment his lips brushed her cheek with him sliding a burner phone into her jacket pocket. He felt her shiver and closed his eyes, lingering a second longer on her skin.

He pulled away. “Take care, Emma. And be careful with Gold.”

Turning around, he faced the two goons who had finally decided to make a move on him. “Gentleman, I believe you were expecting me.”

Without risking a glance behind him - just in case he decided to throw everything away and simply run away with her - Killian walked between the two men towards the back of the casino floor. Loud voices made them momentarily turn their attention to one of the guarded doors. Killian followed their stares and had to hide a smile at the ruckus Ariel and Eric - dressed as casino employees and pushing a cart - were causing. They got louder and louder, and in order to avoid more disruptions on the floor, the other guard took the cart and pushed it through the door.

Bingo. Henry was on his way to the vault.

And Killian? Well, Killian was shown into a holding room that suspiciously had no cameras in it, his two escorts standing silently in front of him. Stretching the muscles between his shoulder blades, Killian perched himself on the corner of the table and adjusted his cufflinks, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

“He’s not coming, is he?” He shook his head. “I knew the coward wouldn’t face me.”  

A loud bang on the door brought a smile to one of the thugs’ faces. “Oh, he’s not coming.” They opened the door to reveal a man who was bulkier than the both of them combined. “But Anton is.”

The two men stepped outside and closed the door. From his comm, Smee’s voice sounded loud and clear. “Henry made it to the vault and so did Poseidon’s package. We’re good to go.”

Killian stood up, adjusting the lapels of his suit jacket and sliding his hands into on the pocket of his pants. “Hello, Anton. It’s been a long time.”

All he got in reply was a straight punch to his face.

/-/

Tears clung to the corners of his eyes from the pain. Killian reached to touch the bridge of his nose, begging to not find it broken. He was quite fond of his nose; it was one of his favorite features.

“Anton! Not until later.” His voice came out laced with pain.

The other man looked baffled at him, lowering his voice to a whisper. “I’m sorry, Killian. I thought it would be a good way to start the ruse off. I promise I held back.”

If that was holding back, Killian was grateful Anton was on their side and not Gold’s. If anything, cutting him into the take was the best decision they had made so far.

“Nevermind. I’m sure you had the best of intentions, but next time, aim for the gut, not the face. I work with this one.”

Anton nodded and Killian glanced around the room, quickly locating the air vent. Pressing on his comm piece, he reached for one of the chairs and positioned it below it.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road. Liam, you ready?”

His older brother’s voice came through loud and clear. “I’m right above you, brother.”

Killian removed the grate and looked above to find Liam grinning down at him. In a swift move, Liam helped him up and they both moved along the vent carefully until they reached the elevator, where LJ had been waiting for them, using the codes to get them through.

Thanks to a very timely distraction in the form of Poseidon fainting in the media room, Smee switched the elevator camera’s live feed to a recorded video loop. LJ climbed up the vent and joined Liam, while Killian dropped down into the elevator.  He was counting on Smee’s feed to provide him cover to exit onto the main casino floor, where he’d make himself invisible between the crowd. Lifting his head, he smiled at his two brothers.

“You two take care, ok?”

Both Liam and LJ gave him matching grins before he moved to close the elevator panel.  

Nemo’s voice came across the comm as Killian made his way out of the elevator, carefully looking around. “All clear here at the fight. Gold is here with Belle. She looks lovely, Liam.”

Liam’s reply came instantly. “Thanks, old friend. Keep an eye on her for me.”

Once out on the casino floor, Killian made his way to one of the corners where LJ had spent his hours surveilling that place away from prying eyes.

“I’m in position, team. What’s the status?”

Smee’s voice sounded slightly more nervous than before, which was a good sign. The more nervous he got, the better he was at his job. “Ariel and Eric just removed Poseidon from the media room. We’re good.”

“Liam, status?”

“We’re set here,” his brother confirmed.

Killian smirked, running a hand through his hair. “Smee, we’re ready to rock and roll.”

The nerves in Smee’s bumped up a notch. “Milah?”

Milah needed to ready the pinch to activate on Smee’s go. When everything's was in place - like now - she was to turn it on in time with the bell ringing at the start the boxing match, thereby cutting power to the entire city.

Her frustration came through loud and clear on the intercom. “Just a minute, boys. This thing is being temperamental.” There were definite sounds of what was probably a wrench hitting something on her end. “COME ON YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

Killian winced, adjusting his voice to a bare whisper. “Milah, try not to it blow up, please.”

The bell rang. Killian counted in his head.

5 seconds,

10 seconds,

15 seconds… and then

Most of the rest of the group had arrived together in a minivan from the airport, all of them sharing laughs and old stories as they caught up. Ariel and Eric remained glued to each other, the passion still strong between them, forcing Liam to make a mental note to remind them about being alert on the job. It wouldn’t be the first time they got carried away by the throes of passion during recon. And while it wasn’t a big deal on smaller jobs, the one in front of them required absolute and careful attention.

Smee and Henry were talking to Killian, both of them looking at his little brother as if he were the most amazing thing in the world. It wasn’t news when it came to Smee, the man truly worshipped his brother, but Henry was a new addition as far as Liam was concerned. He wondered how exactly Killian had come to know about Henry, and what had since passed between them. But it would be a mystery that he’d have to solve later.

For now he had old friends, good food, even better alcohol, and everyone was having a good time.

That was everyone except LJ, who’d arrived alone and on foot, with a scowl on his face and nothing more than a backpack and small rolling suitcase. He was still sporting a frown as he stood in the corner, all by himself, shoulder against the wall, looking at the entire thing as if he didn’t belong.

And he didn't. Not just yet. But Liam was going to make sure he did by the end of it all. Family was family and if there was something he’d learned the past two years in jail, it was that you needed to be with the ones who were yours. No matter the cost.

He sighed… it was his time to steal the spotlight and start in the plan in motion. Killian may have assembled the group, had charmed his way into getting all of them to come and join them - Liam still didn’t know how he was able to get Poseidon to agree - but now it was his turn. This was his moment.

Showtime.

He cleared his throat, commanding the attention of the room. “Ladies, gentlemen, what a wonderful moment it is to see you all again. Some of you know one another and some we’re just welcoming into the family, but I hope you’ve all have enjoyed the food and drinks that Nemo has laid out for us.” Pausing for effect, he took a moment to seek out his brother, holding his focus once Killian’s eyes met his. “The mission we’re about to embark on is highly dangerous, but if successful it will be highly lucrative, both monetarily and personally for some of us. Now, none of you are locked into this yet. If you feel that you simply don’t want to take part, now’s the time to walk. Feel free to grab another drink and head on your way. No questions. No hard feelings.” He tilted his head and raised his glass as he turned his attention to their host. “Though, not you, Poseidon, you’re not allowed to leave,” he teased, drawing laughter from those gathered and lifting the mood, all while reeling them in for what would come next.

“Gentlemen,” Killian drawled as he stepped forward, his most charming smile in place, “and you lovely ladies, if you’ll join us inside.”

Everyone grabbed their drinks and followed in his wake. Everyone, that is, but the one person they were desperate to have on board.

LJ remained on the patio, his eyes scanning the place while steadfastly not meeting their eyes. Killian took a step in his direction but quickly stopped as they both watched Nemo make his way towards him instead.

“LJ, is it?” he asked, an affable expression in place and using his most amicable tone of voice.

Liam instantly recognized that expression. It was the same Nemo had used on him and Killian each time he met them while they were lads surviving on the streets. Tears threatened to escape his eyes as he watched LJ shake Nemo’s hand.

“I - we - are so glad you were able to join us. I’ve been following your career for a while now, and I’ve been impressed with your talent.”

LJ shrugged off the compliment, backing away slightly as he crossed his arms,  clearly uncomfortable with the praise.  “It’s nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that lives up to the standards of the Brothers Jones, I’m sure,” he said,  pronouncing their name with a quiet reverence laced with just enough regret and bitterness that it broke Liam’s heart. Perhaps if they had known about him sooner, maybe they would have found a way to bring him here with them, perhaps…

Nemo’s booming laugh interrupted his thoughts. The older man was smirking, patting LJ’s back.

“Do you really think these two were perfect all the time?” He stole a quick glance in Liam and Killian’s direction.  “Pleaaaase, the first time Liam tried to roll loaded dice, he almost got beaten up to a pulp. I had to jump in and get them out of that situation really quick.”

He motioned for LJ to approach him. "Come here, m'boy. Join us and let me tell you all about it."

LJ smiled, the first real smile he’d given all evening, and let Nemo steer him inside the house.

Liam released the breath he’d been holding.

Everyone was in. All was well.

For now.

/-/

The projector screen flashed an image of their target. From the corner of his eyes, Liam watched as Milah momentarily squirmed in her seat before Ursula laid a comforting hand on hers. He gave Milah a quick smile before he pointed to the screen. “I assume everyone in here is familiar with the Gold, the Baelfire and the Dagger.”

Everyone in the room nodded along and Liam continued, “They all have a thing in common.”

“They belong to the same scumbag?” Milah interrupted, drawing some laughter from the room.

“That and they all feed into one vault, and one vault only. The vault of the Baelfire is located below the Strip, underneath 200 feet of solid earth.” He gave another pause for effect. “And that is our target.”

“So a quick in-and-out, huh?” LJ interjected, his dry humor proving once again that he more than belonged to this family.

“Just a tad more complicated than that,” Killian replied from where he’d spent most of Liam’s introduction perched on a stool.

Liam pushed a button and the screen changed to display an animation of the vault access. “This is courtesy of the casino’s new dealer, Tina Smith.” He pointed to Ursula, who tipped her head in a small salute.

“Your mother always loved Tina,” Poseidon said with affection as he squeezed his daughter's hand.

“And we have Mr. Smee to thank for the simulation he created based on the information Ursula has gotten us,” Killian pointed out and Smee gave the room a sheepish smile while Ariel and Eric slow clapped at him.

“As you can see, this place has a very tight security system,” Liam continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “It won’t be easy to break. We’ll have to get into the cages -”

“Here, here, and here,” Killian pointed out, ever so helpfully.

Liam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Which all of you know takes more than my smile and my brother’s combined.” The simulation continued, and Liam pointed out the next difficulty. “Next come the doors, each of which require a different six-digit code that is changed every twelve hours. Once we’re past those then comes the tricky part: the elevator won't move without a scan of authorized fingerprints -”

“Which we can’t forge,” Killian explained. He’d ditched the stool and was now standing next to LJ, feigning nonchalance.

“And vocal confirmations from both the security center within the Baelfire and the vault below -”

“Which we won’t get.”

Liam buried the scowl he wanted to give and instead leveled his most dashingly threatening smile at Killian, but after three decades his idiot brother seemed immune to it. Killian was on a roll today, a burst of sunshine intent on deadpanning all the roadblocks. Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair before continuing.

“Which brings us to the elevator -”

“The shaft of which has motion detectors,” Milah offered with a sigh. “If you - we - were to attempt to manually override the lift, it will lock the exits and we’ll be trapped.”

Everyone turned to focus on her, and she just shrugged nonchalantly. “What? You’re not the only ones who can show off, gentlemen.”

Liam bent his head to hide his smile. “Good news is, after that, is a walk in the park - two guards, some Uzis, and the most complicated vault door conceived of by men.”

“Actually, it was a woman who designed it, but carry on,” Milah corrected and circled her fingers for Liam to continue.

“Questions?” Killian asked brightly cutting off Liam again.

“Tunnels?” Henry asked, rolling a keychain back and forth over his knuckles.

Liam’s eyes darted between Milah and Killian. “Which one of you two show-offs want to take this one?”

“Ladies first,” Killian bowed towards Milah with a salacious smile.

She grinned. “With you, Jones, always,” she said, causing a communal chuckle before she looked at Henry with a big, genuine smile. “Gold has scales monitoring any movement in the ground for at least a hundred yards in every direction of the vault. Anything more than simple drilling on the street and he’ll be on to us and at our throats.”

Henry nodded and stared gloomily at the screen. His expression was pretty much echoed by the rest of the group.

It was Ariel, though, who finally broke the mood in the room. “Please tell me there is a good reason you flew us here, Liam. Not that I don’t enjoy the chance to get married again by Elvis followed by a night in a Vegas suite as much as the next girl, but there’s gotta be some good news here somewhere.”

Liam smirked, taking a few steps from the wall with the screen and into the middle of the room. “The Gaming Commission rules are clear - the casino has to be able to cover, in cash, every single chip they have on the floor. So in this case, that means that this vault needs to cover all three casinos. On any given night, that is 60 to 70 million. Weekends? 80 to 90. But on a special night, as in a boxing match like the one in two weeks or a concert? There would be at least 150 million dollars in there.”

He stopped and let that number sink in.

Killian stepped in, owning the moment much better than Liam ever could. “Now, there are 11 of us in this room, and we will all have an equal share. I’ll let each of you do the math.”

Their faces transformed as the sheer amount of money sank into each one of their brains. Eight figures each, it would be the heist of a lifetime. Liam chanced a glance towards LJ and found his brother looking at him with awe.

We promised, baby brother.

It was Poseidon who was the one to break the awed silence, giving both Liam and Killian a skeptical look. “Ok, hot shots, let’s run this one more time. Say we get into the cage, past the doors we don’t have codes for, into the elevator we cannot move unless one of us has untraceable magic, past the overeager guards with nuclear guns and into the female designed vault we cannot open unless we sell our souls to the devil. Then what? We will simply walk away with 150 million dollars in cash? Just like that?”

Killian smirked. “Just like that. With all the poise you’re known for, Poseidon.”

“Thank you, Killian,” Poseidon said with narrowed eyes. “I wasn’t sure how we were going to pull off that minor detail. The rest of the operation seems easy enough though.”

Liam knew the sarcastic barb was just that. If Poseidon had wanted to walk away, he would have done it by now. But like everyone else, he knew what they had here was the opportunity of a lifetime.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road.” Killian clasped his hands together, taking over from Liam and falling into the role he was so bloody good at. “Reconnaissance. We need to know these places like the back of our hands: from rotations to dealers and personnel to escape routes. They build these bloody things like mazes to keep people from leaving. We need to know how to quickly get out. At all times. Ursula, you keep working those ears as you work the rooms. Ariel, Eric, get into those costumes you love so much and get on with it, mates.”

“Sure, sure!” Ariel clapped excitedly while Eric gave him a salute with two fingers on his forehead.

“Surveillance. We need to know what they know, if not before they know it, at least as they know it.” He turned around and faced his friend. “Start digging, Smee. We need to tap those systems.”

“I’m on it, Killian, but it won’t be easy. I need a few more days for me and Milah to look into the systems and how to break them. Also, if this night is as big as you claim, he’ll likely get additional highly trained security for the night.”

“Then we need to know who that person is and how to break them.”

/-/

Emma Swan stood in the massive library, her eyes scanning the nearly overwhelming number of wooden shelves and leather-bound books. She’d never seen such a treat in a casino before in her life, though that might also be due to the fact that she wasn’t a frequent flyer of high-end casinos. The usual perps she’d chase preferred seedier establishments with illegal poker games played on worn tables. Not the gold-covered details of places like the Baelfire.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” asked the petite brunette who stood next to her, her high heels putting her almost at Emma’s height. She wore a pleated black leather skirt and a cream crêpe shirt. Her hair fell in artfully crafted waves to her shoulders and a pair of gold earrings graced her earlobes. She looked exquisite, the picture of simple elegance that Emma, in her skinny jeans, low-heeled boots, and red leather jacket, would never be. Emma wanted to dislike her, but she had nothing but a warm smile and a friendly disposition as she spoke reverently about the books that surrounded them. In any other situation, she might actually like her. “That is how Robert and I met. He’d asked me to come help catalogue and expand his book collection.”

“It’s an impressive one, for sure,” Emma agreed.

“Belle, don’t distract Miss Swan. She has a job she’s required to do,” Robert Gold interrupted, his tone clipped as he stepped forward, his floor manager by his side. “She needs to focus on securing the place, not in admiring the dusty books that are in it. We wouldn’t want any distractions.”

His words managed to chastise both women and Belle excused herself with a smile and left the room, leaving Emma with the weight of Gold’s assessing look focused on her. She knew the distraction barb wasn’t gratuitous. She’d been in this business long enough to know there was more to Gold than the casino owner and legitimate business owner facades he showed the world. She’d heard the rumors, the ones whispered into the night by lowlifes on the run, people who didn’t want to be found. People Emma used to succeed in finding, her absolute perfect record an untarnished proof that she was the best in the business, the one who could always deliver. She cleared her throat and focused on the task at hand.

“You’ll want this room to be secured and monitored as well the night of the match?”

“My security is tight, but I don’t want to leave anything to chance. After the vault, this place is the most important to secure in this casino.”

Not for the first time, Emma wondered what this room hosted besides the collection of dusty old books that only Belle French  - Gold’s friend - seemed to care about.

Gold tilted his head as if he’d been reading her thoughts. He took a few steps towards her, lowering his voice. “I can count on you, right Miss Swan? I know that your exit from your last agency wasn’t as ‘mutual agreed upon’ as you and your employer both like to suggest.” He made a tsking sound as he waved a hand in the air in a dramatic gesture, his smile turning into somewhat sardonic and deeply unreadable. “I’m no fool. If you want my help with the information you seek, then you’ll be sure to ensure no one gets near anything that I hold dear in any of my casinos that night.”

Emma cleared her throat. “You will not be disappointed, Mr. Gold.”

“Good,” was all he said before he turned around and left her without a further glance, moving onto the next item in his busy day.

Emma’s shoulders slumped as she leaned into one of the shelves for support. This job was too important. She had this one chance to rebuild her name after the Italian fiasco she had a few years ago. She was not letting anything get between her and a job now… not after paying for the consequences that time.

She’d blame it on that little Tuscan town and its sleepy early afternoons where she met him. She’d finally taken some time for herself, choosing the Italian scenery for some peace and sun, eager to simply vanish from the world for a few days until the details of her new assignment came through. All she knew was the mark was somewhere in Europe and that they were trying to track his latest alias - Hook - back to his name and get a proper description.

In the meantime, Emma was happy to simply wait under the sun on a Tuscan hillside, letting herself go completely. When she first saw him - black hair, intense blue eyes, faded jeans and blue t-shirt - he seemed to be a vision conjured from her most hidden fantasies. All the way up to and including his lilting accent.

But he wasn't. He was flesh and muscles. A heated mouth that warmed her skin with searing kisses the first night she met him. Strong arms that held her as he thrust deep into her, sending her body and mind into earth-shattering orgasms. Lips that trailed kisses against her neck as they spent the day touring the vineyards and the nights tearing each other’s clothes and making love time and again. It was then, under the moonlight that her walls came down and she’d shared her daily life and deepest secrets with him.  

It was there where he broke her heart. And her trust.

When the information came in confirming a name and photograph to id her mark, she’d been out getting a pizza for them to share back in bed. Coming back all she found was a half empty hotel room, his stuff all gone, the seal on the manila envelope that had been delivered broken. She reached for it with shaking fingers, only to find his eyes staring back at her from the photograph within.

The bastard hadn’t even bothered to hide his name, and it would be forever branded in her mind as a symbol of shame.

Killian Jones.