Stolen Hearts.

Tick, tock, ding dong. As the clock struck 9 AM, a soft chime echoed through the Metropolitan Museum of Art. With a barely audible hiss, a bulletproof glass case slowly opened.

A delicate hand reached in, plucking an ancient Native American artifact from its display. Holding it up to the light, a voice murmured, "Hmm... an authentic Mississippian sun circle, circa 1200 AD. Shell carved, traces of pigment still visible... exquisite."

"That little trinket's worth $30 million?" A skeptical voice called from the doorway.

The woman at the display case smiled without turning. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the artifact towards the voice. "Pre-Columbian. What do you think?"

A tall blonde deftly caught it, raising an eyebrow as she examined the treasure.

The woman at the display wore a crisp white Chanel suit, a pale green Hermès scarf knotted at her throat. Her face bore a serene smile, bright eyes sparkling with mischief and intelligence. She exuded an aura of effortless cool, elegant yet carefree. Her unique presence often overshadowed her striking beauty, drawing attention to her remarkable charisma instead.

"Gold has a price, history is priceless," the blonde said, tucking the artifact into her jacket. "Too bad for them, it's only worth $30 million to us."

The woman in white chuckled, wagging her finger. "No, darling. Meeting us makes it worthless. It's only valuable because someone's willing to pay. For us? It's free."

They shared a knowing smile. As master thieves, why pay when you can take?

The woman in white surveyed the room full of priceless treasures, shrugging. "Lucky for them we have professional ethics. You're safe this time."

The renowned New York gallery housed artifacts from around the world, with a total value that could probably buy Delaware. Hence the state-of-the-art security system and ubiquitous cameras. But they'd forgotten: over-reliance on technology is often the easiest weakness to exploit.

"Skye, ten seconds," the blonde by the door checked her watch.

"Please, Lily. That's practically an eternity." Skye sauntered towards the exit.

The pair, one in white, one in red, strolled out as casually as if leaving a department store. Skye glanced back at the silent gallery, a radiant smile playing on her lips. She tapped the touch panel by the door. Instantly, alarms blared through the building, voices raised in panic, footsteps thundering.

"How rude. Not even a farewell ceremony," Skye laughed, fixing her hair.

Moments later, they sped away in a cherry-red Ferrari convertible, their priceless prize safely stowed.

"Some 'ultimate security,'" Lily scoffed, toying with the artifact. "Barely a challenge."

Skye laughed, letting the wind tousle her hair. "Darling, is there anything in this world we can't steal?"

"Ha! We could swipe the Liberty Bell if we wanted!"

As their laughter faded, Lily grew serious. "Since we're retiring, what's next for you?"

Skye smiled enigmatically. "Whatever I want, I suppose."

They parted ways soon after, Lily gracefully dismounting with a promise to keep in touch. Skye watched her go, contemplating the unknown freedom ahead.

A sudden gust snatched Skye's scarf, sending it flying through the window of a passing black Cadillac. For a moment, Skye's eyes met a pair of cold ones inside before they drove away.

Days later, in a Manhattan penthouse, two well-dressed men examined their latest acquisition.

"Skye and Lily never disappoint," the older man grinned. "Our little protégés did well."

His companion nodded. "Top five on Interpol's most wanted. They've made us a fortune."

Predatory smiles spread across their faces as they discussed how to "clip the wings" of their assets to maintain control.

A knock interrupted them. "Sir, a package from Skye."

The older man eagerly opened it, admiring the contents. "Excellent. Perhaps it's time to ensure our assets are... permanently in our employ."

Their sinister laughter was cut short as the man found a note in the package. His face contorted with rage as he read:

"$100 million wired to Cayman account. Consider all debts paid in full. Skye and Lily bid you farewell."

"Those ungrateful little-" he snarled, crumpling the note. "They think they can just walk away? Contact our people. Now!"

"Are you insane? Slow down! You want to feed the fish? Slow down!" the blond man screamed, wiping blood from his eyes. The mixed-race man, who had been quiet, pulled his companion back, shaking his head. But even he paled at the sight of the endless ocean ahead.

As they approached the hairpin turn, their pursuers, enraged by Skye's acceleration, sped up too. Skye's smile turned cold.

In a blur of shifting gears, accelerating, steering, and braking, the Ferrari, seemingly about to fly off the road, made a 180-degree spin with a deafening screech of tires, suddenly changing direction onto an opposing lane.

Simultaneously, violent crashes erupted beside them. The pursuing cars, caught off guard by Skye's unexpected maneuver, collided in a chain reaction as the lead car hesitated. Several high-end sports cars were totaled in seconds, though the drivers, apparently professionals, minimized injuries.

"Haha, good luck with that!" The blond man laughed, flipping off their battered pursuers as they crawled from their wrecked vehicles.

Skye resumed her leisurely pace, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the door. Those who dared insult her paid the price. The wrecked custom sports cars would serve as their lesson.

"Incredible! I never expected such skill. You're almost as good as me. I'm Mike, by the way, and he's Will," the blond man, now identified as Mike, excitedly jumped into the passenger seat, seemingly forgetting the violent chase.

Skye raised an eyebrow lazily, saying, "Get out." She hit the brakes. She still needed to buy that sriracha sauce.

Mike's eyes widened in disbelief. They were miles from anywhere, with no sign of civilization. Was she really going to abandon them here, injured as they were?

As Mike was about to protest, Will pulled him back, exiting the car. He addressed Skye, "Thank you so much. Here's my card. If you ever need anything, please don't hesitate to ask. We'll do our best to help." He placed a business card on her car.

Skye glanced at them both. Seeing their earnest expressions, she smirked. This guy was wordy but missing the point. She simply held out her hand, saying, "Money. A hundred bucks."

Will and Mike were dumbfounded. Someone with such an expensive car was asking for gas money? And wasn't their offer of future assistance worth more than a hundred dollars? Mike, scowling, pulled out his wallet and handed over all the cash he had.

In a townhouse near the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, a kind-looking woman stood in the kitchen doorway, smiling at another woman lounging on the couch, watching Netflix and munching on organic fruit.

"Hey Skye, could you grab some sriracha sauce from Trader Joe's? We're out."

Skye raised an eyebrow. She'd rented this place for the view and fresh air, plus her Asian-American landlord Lily seemed easy to get along with. But Lily's enthusiasm was a bit much, treating her like a little sister whether she liked it or not. Seeing Lily's sweet smile, Skye couldn't refuse but bargained, "Only if you promise to make In-N-Out style burgers."

Lily laughed, "Deal. Hurry back or no burgers!" She shooed Skye away playfully.

Skye stood up, amused and exasperated. She wore a ripped t-shirt, faded jeans, and chunky silver jewelry – a rebellious look that somehow suited her perfectly.

Lily frowned at Skye's outfit, "Skye, why are you dressed like that again? That style..."

Skye bolted for the door before Lily could lecture her. Lily always tried to mother her, but Skye did her own thing, regardless.

Just as she reached the door, the bell rang. "Must be for you," Skye said, changing shoes.

Lily wiped her hands, approaching, "Why couldn't it be for you?"

Without looking up, Skye replied, "I don't have friends."

Lily froze, but Skye stood casually, as if she'd just commented on the weather, showing no sadness or loneliness.

Seeing Lily's caring gaze, Skye leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and teased, "What, you into me? If you like me, I wouldn't mind a little sapphic romance."

Lily's eyes widened. She glanced at the monitor, quickly buzzing in the visitor, and shoved Skye out the glass door, "Go get the sauce or no burgers!"

Skye shrugged. She didn't need pity, and "friends" was just a self-important label. She was fine on her own.

"Lily, long time no see," a magnetic male voice said, tinged with amusement.