Fifteen months ago, Karin had accidentally gotten pregnant by a mega-rich CEO. When she’d broken the news, he’d accused her of a paternity play, and walked away. The catch: she’d truly loved him. The one time she hadn’t been conning.

The guy’s last name was Walker.

Fitting.

After her baby was born, Walker had started sending monthly checks without a word. So she’d named the guy’s son Cash. We all thought that was hilarious.

And if a gal couldn’t make a joke when she’d been knocked up and deserted, when could she?

We’d considered sending Walker monthly checks for the sperm. Once we settled the debt and got back on our feet. Speaking of which . . .

I asked Benji, “Is the congressman’s package away?”

“Yep. Right now he’s watching a surprisingly well-shot video and shitting himself.” You have to play to pay.

In our blackmail packages, we demanded total compliance or else we would send the evidence to every major paper in the country (truth). We also warned that if we got any pushback from the blackmailee, Anonymous would add them to their list of high-profile dirt bags to financially destroy (lie).

Though Benji excelled at his job, his artistic talent was wasted on badgers. As a teen he’d wanted to be a wildlife photographer, had continued exploring it in his free time. Before we ran out of free time—

A message chime sounded from my bag; everyone grew quiet. Benji leaned over and took Cash from me. “Check your messages, Vice.”

As I dug my phone out, I grew jittery, didn’t know what I was hoping for. I glanced at the screen. “It’s an e-mail from Brett.”

Groans sounded. “Steady Brettie,” Pete muttered.

Benji added, “By-the-Book Brett.”

I rolled my eyes. “You guys don’t even get how ironic it is to call Brett steady and by-the-book. He really wasn’t either, was he?” They’d disliked him because he was a law-abiding Muggle who would never understand our secret way of life. The few occasions I’d brought him to family gatherings, they’d been paranoid and miserable with the gull around.

For the longest time, I’d suspected them of running a badger game on Brett to get rid of him.

The woman I’d caught him with had been off-the-charts hot, a legit showgirl. Brett hadn’t even known her last name. So what had she been doing at the party we’d thrown?

My grift sense had screamed something was off about the entire situation.

None of my scoundrels had copped to it, so I’d let it go. Maybe my ego had been trying to protect itself by drumming up a conspiracy theory.

“You have to give the guy credit,” Dad said. “It’s been a year, and he’s still not giving up.”

“I never understood that relationship.” Mom fished for something out of her sewing basket. “I will say this till I’m blue in the face: We’re a breed apart. Which means the only mate for a grifter—”

“Is another grifter,” I finished for her. Mom and Dad were the perfect example. He’d been the married mark in one of Diamond Jill’s temptation scenarios, but he’d been wed in name only—for a scam of his own.

A grifter for a grifter.

I used to balk at Mom’s wisdom; now I accepted how right she was. Always watching what I said and did around Brett had gotten exhausting. “If I had a dollar for every time you’ve told us that, we wouldn’t be in so much freaking trouble.”

“Hear! Hear!” Gram took another swig of sherry. “But I disagree with the grifter mate theory. You just have to find a fellow who loves you more than life. For a man like that, anyone who thinks to ruin his relationship—such as another woman—might as well be trying to murder him.”

Dad grinned at me. “Plus, in my case, I’d have to assume your mother hired a honey trap. She already trapped me once that way.”

Mom play-slapped his stomach.

Sooner or later, I’d be forced to check my mailbox, might as well do it now. I opened Brett’s weekly message and read:

Tailgate, Fourth of July. You got a lightning bug to land on your palm, and it reflected in your eyes as you laughed. I’d never wanted a kiss more.

I’ll always love you, B

I recalled that night. He had kissed me, his earnest hazel eyes glinting as he’d told me how much he loved me. . . .

Then I frowned. Was this ache in my chest even for Brett?

Oh, shit. I was feeling emptiness—because of Dmitri.

“Speaking of gulls who are interested in Vice . . .” Pete turned to me. “How about you text Sevastyan?”

“That’d be an unconventional play,” Benji said, his voice lowered because Cash had conked out against his chest. “But then, he’s an unconventional mark. Dude owns two of the top fifty highest-grossing tech patents.”

Gram sighed. “I don’t know what that means, but it sounds just divine. What could he have done in a club that was so bad?” She was still angling to find out.

“I wasn’t thinking clearly last night. I was hammered.”

“Victoria Valentine!” Gram tsked. “Never drink on a con!”

“Not fair. It was my night off.” I set my phone aside and pulled my deck out of my bag.

“When Karin goes to the casino tonight, I think she should scout things out with Sevastyan,” Mom said. “If he’s attracted to Vice, he’ll be attracted to a woman who looks so similar to her.”