(No) Honor Among Thieves || Bang Chan

Chapter One

Today marks the fourth anniversary of Novah's first successful gig.
She had stolen a painting from a private collector's vault.
It had been easy.
So easy that - from that moment on - it had felt like it was her destiny to become the greatest thief in the world.

She had always been quick on her feet and very quiet. And everybody had always told her how smart and cunning she was, how great of a liar. Though, she wouldn't exactly call it lying. To her, it was acting. Playing pretend.
It was all a game.
And Novah was on a winning streak.

She had her tricks, admittedly. Small cheats and maneuvers, traps and deceptions.
After all, she was nothing more than a conwoman with a fable for money, jewels, and treasures.
Not any conwoman, though. The conwoman.

It still filled her with heart-fluttering joy to remember just how long it had taken the authorities to figure out she was a woman.
For more than two years they had thought she was a lowly man, just another common thief.
But then she had started going into the offensive.

Instead of stealing in the dead of night, Novah had started stealing from right under the target's nose.
Wanting to be seen, wanting to be recognized for her undoubtedly superior talent of illegally acquiring things that weren't for sale, she stepped into the light.
On her own terms.
She started unfolding her full potential, began using all the things biology had gifted her.
Body and brain.

Now, they know she is a woman.
They didn't know what she looked like, though.
It's incredible how many different accounts people can give about the same person if all cameras have been shut off and there is no proof of existence.
Her hair was red.
Her hair was black.
She had green eyes.
She had a mole under her right ear.
She had blue eyes.
She wore glasses.
The mole was on the left side.

All she needs is a good disguise and a blackout of a few blocks.
Everything else works out on its own every single time.
They never catch her.
She never leaves a single trace.
In and out in under half an hour.
She doesn't speak to anyone.
Ever.

Well... almost.
Up until nine months ago she had stuck to her principles with rigid stubbornness.
But then that man, that thief, was about to walk out of the museum with her ring.
She had been too late to snatch it away before he got there, and she couldn't let him leave with it.
So she had to intervene and break one of her most sacred rules.

Luckily, he fell right into her trap.
Typical.
Any man brave enough to look at her for more than five seconds would have behaved the same way.
It's no secret and there is no use in denying it.
Novah is pretty.
More than that, she's beautiful and alluring and gorgeous.
She's a dream.
That's why so many men think she's innocent and dumb.
She likes to prove them wrong.

She likes to taunt them, watch the horrified look on their faces when they realize she played them.
It took that man just a single note, a few words written by hand, to lose all calm and run away into the night thinking he'd catch her.
It's the greatest fun every time.

They never expect her to play them.

Because, of course women can only be one or the other: pretty or smart.
Never both.
Everyone knows that.

Throw in a little giggle here and there and men do whatever it takes to hear it again and again and again.
They're oblivious to her true intentions until it is too late.
Her beauty is Novah's greatest weapon.
It has never let her down.