She hated this side of the gun. It felt better to have the metal cool and satisfying against your palm then warm and frightening against your forehead even before the notion of bullets came into the equation. Fighting panic, Bela looked her traitorous partner in the eye as she raised her arms to the side in seeming defeat, lifting the briefcase full of unmarked euros.

Arturo smiled and whispered an Italian endearment before barking an order in English. "Hand over the money, Bela." He had told her never to trust him, but he had taught her so much about the art of the con that she had been lulled into security. Hell, he had given her a new name.

Never again. Eyes cold, she slammed the briefcase into his head before knocking the gun away.

Arturo staggered.

Dropping the briefcase, she picked up the gun and pistol whipped him with it. "I would have thought that you'd wait until we got to Naples before double crossing me." She met his gaze before lifting the gun up. "You told me never to trust you." She shot him, blood spatter hitting her cheek, before she said, "Lesson learned. Partners are for chumps."