Grifters Chapter 25: The Long Con (Stories), a pride and prejudice fanfic

AN. Ok then. I go away for a few months and the world goes to shit. I thought the Brits had fucked up, but then America managed to truly show us the way. Anyway, apologies for the absence, hopefully a few of you are still left. You may want to glance through the other The Long Con chapters before this one as it has been a while, it may be a little confusing otherwise, I don't know. It's really long as well, editing is not my strong point here. Also, I don't think I've sticked the landing as it were really, but we'll see. There's probably some mistakes but to be honest I'm sick of staring blankly at this thing so I'm just gonna put it up. Thanks, crack on.

Pemberley, Edinburgh, Scotland, Present Day...

"Oh, you're good." Lizzy Bennet breathed out.

"You got it from that?" Darcy raised an eyebrow, impressed.

"It's what we all learn isn't it?" she replied. "One of the first things they tell you."

"What?"

"You can't cheat Blackjack."

"Not anymore." Darcy nodded.

"So, you didn't cheat..."

"Well, I wouldn't say we didn't cheat..."

Rosings Park, Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, Nine Months Ago…..

Darcy leant back in his wooden chair and let out the breath he had been holding in for what seemed like hours. Well that had been a disaster. Looking back, it had been so predictable. Just how had he really expected that to go? He let out a laugh, couldn't help it, it was all so absurd. What the hell had he been thinking? Declaring his love for Elizabeth fucking Bennet, now of all times. The embarrassment was overwhelming, how had he got it so wrong? She hated him, she actually hated him. Hadn't that been the plan all along? But he thought…. Well no he hadn't thought, that was the problem. The man who was meticulous, who planned everything out, who had become a legend off of his ability to read people, predict them, judge every single situation perfectly, had been so thoroughly baffled by a short con player from North London. Laughed again. Lizzy Bennet. One of perhaps only three people in the world he couldn't read, maybe that was what was so attractive about her. She was so all over the place, so beautifully inconsistent, so fucking unpredictable to someone like him. But she hated him.

Why o why had he decided that now was the best time for that? Regardless of the outcome, the timing was so fucking stupid. He was waiting, just waiting, had no idea how it had gone, the score that he had been planning for close to a year. The game within the game. Had it come off? The answer was forthcoming, he could sense it in the air. Everything so far had seemed to go to plan, but there was so much he wasn't privy to, so much he didn't know. He was stressed, anxious, nervous, the adrenaline pumping so hard. A declaration of love now? Jesus Christ.

She hated him

Interrupted by the door opening.

Lady Catherine De Bourgh was here.

The game was up, it was done.

But which way had it gone?

She gave nothing away as she stood there looking at him, face expressionless, eyes emotionless.

Clicked her fingers and a chair was brought in for her. Sat down. Sighed. Inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly. Took out a pack of cigarettes, twirled it around her fingers, just watching the lazy movement.

"I haven't smoked since your parents died," were the first words she uttered. "God I miss them."

She finally opened the packet with a resigned air and took two out, sticking both in her mouth and lighting them. Passed one across to Darcy who accepted gratefully and without hesitation or suspicion.

Because in that moment, he knew he'd won.

"So tell me, William, just how did you do it?"

Darcy smiled at her, a wave of relief crashing over him. He'd won.

"Why don't you tell me?"

Catherine half smiled at him, a thin stream of smoke escaping from her lips.

"My own daughter, William? Really?"

Rosings Park, Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, Half an Hour Earlier…..

"Don't take this the wrong way, Elizabeth, but I hope to never see you again."

Lady Catherine De Bourgh swept out of the room, allowing herself a brief moment to contemplate the young woman she had just left behind. There was something about Elizabeth Bennet, she could almost understand Darcy's obvious interest in her. She seemed smart, not as smart as she thought she was, but still smart. Too smart to be doing what she was doing. That life only ends one way, as Will Darcy was about to find out.

However, she swiftly forgot about the Bennet girl as her mind turned to what was to come. Congratulated herself on a game well played. The idea had come to her about a month after her 'nephews' latest attempt at stealing from her had come apart, all her doing of course. Over the course of the last five years she'd let him work through his angst, letting him think that it was just bad luck that had caused his failures, whereas in reality she had stopped him in his tracks every time without him ever knowing. The hope was that he would realise the error of his ways and stop, accept that he was in the wrong, leave the ridiculous life he was leading, and they'd move past it, both feigning ignorance over what had happened. She had allowed him so much time simply because she'd loved his parents. They were her best friends, perhaps her only true friends. Oh yes, she was aware of who she was, how difficult she was, what most people thought of her. Never bothered her. She was the Queen in a city of Kings, she'd had to be the way she was otherwise she'd have been trampled into the dirt. But eventually the memory of his parents was no longer an excuse for inaction.

He'd taken the bait like she knew he would. He couldn't help himself. Him, Richard and their despicable friends, they were so sure that they were the smartest people in the room. They hadn't stopped to question it, had underestimated her. Many men had done that in the past and where were they now? No Catherine was a winner, Vegas royalty, someone who was there at the beginning, had shook Sinatra's hand, had watched the rise and fall of the Mob families, observed the Chinese money flow and flow putting lesser competitors out of business. And still she stood. And she would die standing.

She was a little disappointed that none of them had given anything up in the interrogation room, even slightly surprised. Darcy and Richard, she had expected them to cling on like rats, but the others, the Bouzid's, she hoped they may be tempted. No matter. Soon they'd have everything they needed. She made her way to the security hub where her expensive, privately hired techs would be busy analysing any hardware they had found in the suite when they had burst in on them mid score. All the casino machines that Darcy had hit had been taken there and were being taken apart. She hadn't risked inspecting them beforehand, Darcy had spies everywhere in this casino and word would have got back without a doubt. It wasn't necessary anyway, she knew they'd rigged them, even had a CCTV tape of Richard and Caroline Bouzid entering one of the warehouses outside London where they were being built. They'd rigged them, no doubt.

Came to her security hub where one of her aides who she couldn't remember the name of was waiting outside.

"Everything going to plan?" she asked him shortly.

"The casino has been evacuated, we're blaming a fire in the kitchens. And almost all of the staff have been rounded up ready for a debriefing, just waiting on a couple. A Blackjack dealer and some croupier, but they're probably just on a smoke break."

"Good, good," Catherine muttered distractedly. "Have you seen my daughter?"

"Not for about twenty minutes. I'll send her down as soon as I can contact her."

"Do that. And good work today."

"Thank you maam."

She took a deep breath and entered the room in which her victory would be completed. It felt so good after all these years to finally be doing something about her wretched nephew. She should have done this years ago.

But she knew something was wrong as soon as she stepped over the threshold. It didn't feel right. Instead of a raucous atmosphere of discovery and excitement was one of hush and even despondency.

"What's going on?" she shouted over the whispering voices. "Have we got what we need?"

Every face turned to her quickly before immediately looking away, eyes on the floor. No-one spoke. Silence. Looked around. Everything was here, the rigged machines were plugged into the anti malware, the computers recovered were all here. Her victory was right here in front of them. So why was no-one speaking?

"What is going on?" she repeated, lowering her tone dangerously.

Finally, after a beat or two more of silence, a woman rose from her position at a computer screen and approached Catherine, looking both determined and reluctant. Everyone in the room waited with baited breath as she reached her destination.

"Lady Catherine, we've done our initial analysis and…."

"And we've got them, right?" Catherine finished for her.

"Well, that's just it," the woman ran her hand through her hair nervously. "We um… we… um…"

"Spit it out!"

"There's nothing there," the woman blurted out. "I can't understand it. The machines haven't been touched, they're all functioning as they should. No malware, nothing."

"But they paid out! When they said they'd pay out, they paid out!" Catherine exclaimed, doing her best to push a horrible thought down.

"Well, actually they um… they um….. They didn't, well they did but nowhere near the amounts that came up on the computer…."

"What the hell do you mean?"

"We thought they had! They came up on the system as wins, big wins, only it turns out they were all pretty minor. The slots, that was the biggest and as far as we can tell it was actually a clean win. But the Roulette, Blackjack and Baccarat, they only paid out small amounts, but they came up on our computer with some zeros added on. Roulette came up as half a million, but the actual win was $50. Blackjack, $100,000, actually $100, and Bacarrat was $80,000, actually $80. And they were all clean as far as we can tell."

"That's impossible!" Catherine spluttered. "I saw it with my own eyes….."

But had she? What had she actually seen? She'd seen some people celebrating, heard some cheers. Hadn't seen the money change hands. So focused was she on her plan, so sure of her own genius, so sure that Darcy was doing what she thought he was doing, that….. well…..

"They must have hacked us somehow, got into our system and made it look like people had won more than they actually had." the tech mused.

"How could they do that?" Catherine asked, shaking with silent fury. She thought she saw where this was going.

"I mean, I suppose it wouldn't be impossible. But even if they got the employee access, it would take a genius to go from there. But what's the point? Making it look like the casino's being robbed when it's not? It doesn't make any sense….."

"Any employee?" Catherine wondered aloud.

"Well, they'd have to have security clearance of course to get into the server room."

"…I'm sure you have some spies in my casino that I know nothing about…"

"Blackjack." she whispered, realisation dawning.

"….And almost all of the staff have been rounded up ready for a debriefing, just waiting on a couple. A Blackjack dealer and some croupier, but they're probably just on a smoke break."

"Blackjack." she repeated, in total shock.

"…. and could I please have my Blackjack dealer back?… She didn't show up for her shift again tonight, and was last seen disappearing into the Bellagio on your arm."

"Just keeping your staff happy, Lady C!"

He'd put it right in front of her.

"Oh, William, you clever boy," she hissed under her breath in reluctant wonderment. "I was looking the wrong way the whole time wasn't I? But why? What was the point of it?"

Was interrupted by her aide from earlier.

"Maam," he began, his tone worried. "I'm not sure what to make of it. Lady Anne left with a suitcase twenty minutes ago…."

"…. we need temporary holding forms….. just make sure all CCTV is wiped…."

"The CCTV in the interrogation room…."

"All wiped as per your instructions, maam." he replied in a proud tone.

She'd been beaten. And worse, she'd done it all herself.

"Did you find anything? On the computers in the room we found them in?" she asked her techs in a small voice, already knowing the answer but clinging to desperate hope.

"Well, there was something…" the woman replied, cautiously.

"Show me."

"I don't think…."

"SHOW ME!" she exploded.

The woman nodded and gave the signal.

Lady Catherine De Bourgh looked up at the computer screens that adorned the walls.

Let out a noise of disgust.

Turned away and swept out of the room without another word.

Leaving behind the twenty screens of hardcore pornography.

Pemberley, Edinburgh, Scotland, One Year and Nine Months Ago…..

It was funny. Just as he was seriously pondering retirement, it came.

Richard had blown everything up.

Breathless and sweating, he burst into Darcy's Pemberley office, eyes alight and excited, every fibre on edge.

"I think I've found the way in."

And that was that.

Or was it?

Darcy paused, taking a large sip of his scotch, keeping his face as impassive as he could. With the barest nod, he encouraged his cousin to elaborate.

It took a while. Richard was all over the place, pacing up and down one minute, sitting dead still the next, the words scattering out of his mouth like machine gun fire. Darcy did his best to sift the bullets from the shrapnel, taking every ounce of his patience and concentration to achieve this. Eventually, after more than hour of his cousins muddled stream of consciousness, he thought he had the picture.

So firstly, Rosings Park had been taken. One million dollars gone, just like that. No other information, no names, no leads, nothing. But apparently, it was fact. Richard's sources in Vegas were falling over themselves to confirm it, and his cousin was one of the most connected people in that awful city thanks to his penchant for mischief and partying. Darcy often joked that it was as if Las Vegas had been designed directly to cater for Richard Fitzwilliam. Now, this piece of information was pertinent not because of the act itself, Vegas casinos got robbed a lot more than people knew, but because of its consequences.

Catherine De Bourgh had gone apocalyptic. She had fired her head of security, a man with over forty years experience in the game who was as sharp as anyone Darcy had ever met, and replaced him with someone called Billy Collins. Credited as the creator of the revolutionary security system PathSafe but dogged by plagiarism rumours, this was an individual who was, to put it politely, a fool. A chancer and an incompetent yes man who Catherine had taken a shine to. Not content with that piece of idiocy, she was about to undertake a complete security overhaul, with Collins overseeing the operation. And it went even further, this overhaul was to happen in London. The tables, slots, wheels were all being custom built in secret just outside of the city.

All of this added up to what Richard believed to be a God send, an opportunity to finally gain the upper hand in their clandestine war against Catherine. All the pieces were there, a distance disconnect, an incompetent man they could manipulate, a plan they could hijack and use to turn her own casino against her. They could get to Collins, learn the locations of the warehouses where the machines were being built, infiltrate them and rig them till their hearts content. Then, they'd let the machines pay out for a bit before blackmailing Catherine into signing over Pemberley with the threat of her whole casino collapsing around her, take a cut for good measure and be on their way.

It was either insanity or genius.

The problems were many. To rig an entire Vegas casino and get away with it? It had never been done, no-one would ever even think to attempt it. Logic dictated that it was suicide, a one way ticket to prison or worse. But what if…. just what if it was doable? What if it was so fucking daring that no-one would see it coming? Darcy was attracted to that. He'd already proven himself the best at what he did, hence his thoughts turning in the direction of retirement. Sure, he told himself and everyone else that it was for his sister, but deep down, he knew the truth was an altogether more selfish one. He was simply bored of it. Bored of winning time and time again. Bored of the lack of challenge. But here this was, the biggest challenge he'd ever face, the biggest score anyone could attempt, and him in the dead fucking centre of it.

He'd be the greatest grifter in history.

He'd have his home back. His sister would have her home back.

But yeah, more importantly he'd be the greatest grifter in history.

That was when it came. Just as he was congratulating himself for having the balls to attempt this, a nagging thought swam into view. And then it burst out of him, a wave washing away the sandcastle of optimism.

"This feel right to you?" he asked Richard.

There it was. The thing that made Will Darcy so good at what he did. The ability to keep his ego in check. Ego is the thing that defines us, more so than the heart, the soul, the actions, the intelligence. It all boils down to ego in the end. That was what most people didn't grasp. Ego was the thing that caught more criminals than anything, more than complacency, bad luck, the police. But Darcy had always had that self awareness. Perhaps it was the part of him that loathed himself, perhaps it was something else, but he had always been able to stop himself when his thoughts turned too much to his own greatness. Always been able to take a breath, step back and see the whole picture. And that was what was happening now as he looked at Richard.

"What do you mean?" his cousin narrowed his eyes, finally giving Darcy his full attention and stopping his verbal diarrhea.

"Just….. I don't know… isn't it a bit….. convenient?"

"Convenient for us, yeah!" Richard exclaimed with a smile. "This is it, Will, she's finally making mistakes!"

It was still there, gnawing at him.

"No, no, no," Darcy muttered to himself. "Something's not right, something's off…."

He stood up and paced for a while in silence, his thoughts running away from him. It wasn't right, Catherine wasn't this complacent, it was as if… No, surely not. Surely not. But maybe.

He turned to look at Richard again and it was as if he was seeing his own reflection in his most trusted friends face. He was there to.

"You don't think…." Richard trailed off, his eyes showing the shock and surprise at the sudden possible realisation.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Darcy asked.

"God, I fucking think I am. But…. How?"

"How indeed."

"This means, well this means we're fucked. We don't stand a chance. There's no way…." Richard threw his hands in the air, a picture of shocked disappointment and fury.

It was then that Darcy did something unexpected.

He smiled.

"Au contraire, mon ami," he smirked. "Au contraire."

The game was on. And it was bigger than ever.

Slough, England, One Year and Eight Months Ago….

He watched with the slight smile of only someone who knew something others didn't as he observed the Bingley's faces. The glances to him and each other that made it clear that they thought he had gone insane. He had just revealed Richard's information to them and the plan. Or at least 'the plan'.

"You want to rig an entire Vegas casino?" Caroline said slowly, sarcasm dripping through every syllable. "You've lost it, Will. You must know that's impossible! Get to every slot, every table, every chip, every wheel, and then what? Just steal it all? Jesus Christ, it's fucking madness!"

"You want to rig a Vegas casino?" Charlie repeated his sisters words in complete shock.

Darcy smiled.

"Well, yes and no…."

"Fuck do you mean, 'yes or no'," Caroline attacked. "It's a simple fucking question. You know what, forget this, I'm out."

She stood up to leave, taking one look at Darcy and then dismissing him with an eye roll and a frustrated sigh.

"Charlie, you coming?"

"She's right, Will," Charlie stood up as well. "You've really lost it. Richard?"

"Oh for fuck sake, sit down both of you," Richard grinned, bouncing up and down in his chair. "We're about to get to the good part!"

"The good part?" Caroline narrowed her eyes, pausing in her step.

"The good part," Darcy smiled at her. "Come on, Caro. I assure you, I have not gone insane, and I know that the grifter in you is screaming for you to stay and hear me out."

Caroline sighed loudly again and threw herself back down in her chair. Charlie did the same.

"Thank you. Now, where was I?" Darcy asked.

"The yes and no part." Caroline sneered slightly.

"Ah yes, of course." Darcy clapped his hands together, not in the least bit put out by her attitude. He had expected this after all. But now was time for the reveal, the rabbit, the rug pulled out.

"This is all information we have gained from Richard's sources," he pressed on. "It says that there was a robbery, that Billy Collins has been promoted to head of security, that they will be undertaking a security overhaul and it is being done in London. This is fact. Or at least, that is what we're supposed to think."

"I don't understand," Charlie furrowed his brow in confusion. "What do you mean, that's what we're supposed to think?"

"What he means, Charlie, is that we're the flies and Catherine is dangling the shit right in front of us." Richard attempted to elaborate.

"Well, that certainly makes things clearer, thank you, Colonel." Caroline said sarcastically.

"Ok, that was a shit metaphor, literally. See what I did there? Not even a smile, Jesus, tough crowd today. Darcy….."

"What we are saying is that she knows. In fact, she has known all along."

"Who knows? What does she know? Jesus my fucking brain is hurting." Charlie complained.

Darcy prepared to drop the bombshell as clearly as he could.

"I think that Catherine has known all along what I have been trying to do. I think she knows that I have been trying to take back Pemberley. I think that she has actively stopped this from happening every time we have attempted it. And now I think she has run out of patience and she is trying to trap us into thinking that all of Richard's information is true. She wants us to attempt this, she wants us to try to rig her machines, she even wants us to think we have been successful until the very last when she'll stop it and put us in prison. That is what I think. Clear enough for you?"

Stunned silence filled the room. If this was true, four of the greatest grifters in the world had been tricked for years. They had been fooled into thinking they were making progress, that it was just bad luck that had prevented them from achieving their aims. Only it turned out that there had always been someone a step ahead of them, someone who had known all along exactly what they were doing and had shut them down time and time again.

Lady Catherine De Bourgh.

"You have to give it to her," Richard chuckled after a while. "She did a right fucking number on us. I feel like a fucking idiot, truth be told."

"But… but ….. How?" Caroline stuttered, reminding Darcy of himself and Richard in his Pemberley office when the truth had first been discovered.

"Think about it, Caro," Darcy said gently. "Every time we've got close, we've been shut down. Remember the last time, when Richard's security hack was discovered at the last minute? We had no idea how that had happened, Richard maintains that the only way anyone could have discovered it is if they knew exactly what to look for and where to look for it. At the time, we couldn't understand it, but now? It makes sense, you know it! She knew what we were doing and she stopped it, it's the only logical explanation."

"If this is true," Charlie said slowly. "Why the hell didn't she have us put in prison? Let us do it and catch us?"

"Some residual affection for me, I believe," Darcy sighed. "Or at least, for the memory of my parents. Maybe she thought I was going through a phase, that I'd get older and come round to her way of thinking. I think that's what she hoped for. But now all that's gone. All that remains is a desire to see me punished for what I have done to her."

"I can't believe this." Caroline muttered.

"Don't you see though?" Darcy came to life. "This is it, our big chance!"

"How the fuck is this our chance?" Caroline raised her voice. "We need to stay as far away from her as possible, Will! How the hell can you con someone who knows they're being conned?"

"With great difficulty," Darcy conceded, before he regained his enthusiasm. "But she's made her mistake. She's played it perfectly so far, but now she's there for the taking!"

"Yep, definitely insane." Charlie said under his breath, but not so quietly that the others didn't hear. Caro nodded in agreement, Richard smiled and Darcy? Well Darcy just got even more excited. Never had the siblings seen him like his, indeed Richard had to go back to the dreaded 'George days' to remember his cousin this way. Of course in those days it was normally because of some new drug, but now it was the thought of the greatest grift of all that was propelling him.

"Maybe I am insane. But look, she's entered our game now. For years she sat back, let it play out until it went too far. And that worked, we had no idea. I was going to give up you know, I had resigned myself to the fact that I would never get Pemberley back. She'd won without even realising. How things change. Now she wants to try to con us? She wants to try and con us? Is she fucking kidding me? We're the best crew working today, we have the best roper, the best fixer, the best banker, the best inside men and woman. We've been doing this for years, grifting and grifting, playing more scores than we can remember. This is what we do and we do it so much better than anyone out there. And Catherine? Well, she's just changed the rules of her game. She thinks she can go toe to toe with us, she thinks she knows every move we're going to make, she thinks we're going to jump through her hoops all the way to prison. I want to prove to her how fucking wrong she is. We do not get conned. We con people. We win, they lose, end of. That is what happens, that is the natural order of things. And that's what is going to happen here. She wants to con us? No, we're going to prove once and for all how clever we all are. No-one out grifts us, no-one! She's in our game now, and that only ends one way for her."

Darcy finished his speech, eyes alive and hopeful as he looked at his crew. Richard was laughing at his passion, but the Bingley's were stoic. He couldn't do this without them. He just couldn't.

"I assume you at least have the semblance of a plan to go with all that chest beating?" Caroline sighed after a while, her tone resigned.

Darcy smiled. He had their attention. Now it was time to tell them exactly how they were going to do this.

"Ok, pop quiz, who can tell me the first principle of the con?" Darcy asked the room like a bad substitute teacher.

"Fucking hell," Caro groaned before trotting out the mantra. "You can't cheat an honest man."

"Incorrect!" Darcy shook his head. "No, the first principle, what everything is built on, the mechanics of everything we do. Everything is based on one thing and one thing only, that thing being….."

"Misdirection!" Charlie shouted a bit too loudly, a bit like the teachers pet, causing Caroline to send him a withering stare.

"Correct!" Darcy praised. "Misdirection, misdirection, misdirection. What every score is built on, right the way down to lifting a wallet. So, that is what we're going to do here."

"And just how are we going to do that?" Caroline asked. It was clear she was not the least bit enamoured with him at the moment.

"What we're going to do, my dear Caroline," Richard took over. "What we're going to do is play Catherine's game. We are going to jump through every hoop as Darcy put it. Make contact with Billy Collins, rig the machines. We're going to do everything she thinks we're going to do…."

"Only we're not," Caro finished for him, her voice slightly breathless. She was always sharp. "We're going to make it look like that, aren't we? That's your plan. You want to make it look like we're robbing her casino when we're actually not."

"Gold star, Bingley," Richard smirked. "Gold star indeed."

"I want to create the biggest misdirection of all time," Darcy elaborated excitedly. "Put on such a show that no-one will be able to see beyond it, see the game beyond the game."

"Which is?" Charlie asked.

"I'm going to get my home back."

The silence was unbearable for Darcy.

"I suppose it could work….." Charlie trailed off, unconvincingly.

"I don't know, Will…." Caroline frowned.

He gave them ten minutes to think about and went outside. Richard soon joined him and offered his support. And then….

"We can't do it without the others…." he sighed.

"I should hope not!" Charlie said jovially from behind him. "So, where do we start?"

Darcy turned, the widest of smiles on his face.

"One wrong move and we're out, William," Caroline warned. "This is not a commitment. We will work it for a while, see if it's possible, that's it."

He nodded, but couldn't stop smiling. Caro couldn't help but grin back.

So it began.

"Ok, we need to plan this like any other score," Darcy got down to business. "If we're going to make Catherine believe that we are doing what she wants we need to make it as convincing as possible. So from now, we work this like we would any other score. Full backgrounds by the end of the month on Billy Collins and anyone relevant. Richard, Charlie, I want you two to stay in the country, work off anything that Caroline gives you."

"Where am I going?" Caroline asked.

"We are going to Las Vegas," Darcy smirked. "You're going to get background on Billy Collins. Be subtle, but not too subtle if you catch my drift. We want Catherine to know that we're working Collins, but we don't want to be too obvious. At the same time, quietly look for an employee we can turn, someone in debt, with problems, someone we can leverage. This part has to be done secretly though, ok? You'll feed back information to Richard and Charlie, and they'll work it from there."

"You just fancy a vacation then, Darcy?" Charlie said.

"Oh no. I'm going to see an old friend. It's time to do something I should have done years ago…"

Lorenzi Park, Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, One Year and Five Months Ago…..

Darcy closed his eyes as he leant back on the bench, letting the sounds of nature wash over him. He liked this place, a haven in this dreadful city. Him and Vegas had never seen eye to eye. He hated coming here, always had. Unfortunately, he had had to spend an inordinate amount of time here over the years. Family vacations to see his parents old friend Catherine when he was younger, and maintaining the connection after their death had been necessary. But he hated it. The garishness, the falseness, all of it. But here, in this corner, he felt peace at last. A peace that could only be dispelled by what was about to happen, what he was about to ask of one of the few people he actually cared about.

"Okay," Caroline's voice crackled through his earpiece, breaking his peace in half. "She's approaching now, no-one's followed her, you're clear."

"Ok."

"Anne." he greeted warmly, not opening his eyes. Felt her sit next to him.

"Hello, Will." Anne De Bourgh acknowledged him in that shy and timid voice.

Now, Will Darcy could manipulate people. He was a master at it, he was a grifter after all. But he did feel bad for this one. Anne was his friend. But he was doing this for her. He didn't have to, but he needed to. For her.

"Why am I here, Will?" Anne asked. "Why didn't you just come and see me at Rosings? Why all this cloak and dagger stuff?"

"We came here when we were kids, do you remember?" Darcy ignored her question, gazing wistfully out onto the pond. "Me, you, Richard, my parents, your mother."

"I remember."

"It was the only time I've ever been happy in this city," Darcy sighed. "Even when I was a kid, I hated it. I hated flying all those miles, I hated Rosings Park, I hated your mother, and truth be told, I hated you as well."

"I know you did." Anne said sadly.

"And you now what, Anne?" he looked her dead in the eye for the first time. "Nothing's changed for me. I still hate all of it, the flying, Rosings, your mother, and you."

He pressed down the guilt at the hurt on her face. He had to do this.

"I hate what you are, Anne," he continued, sighing. "I hate what she's made you. All your life you've been controlled by her, belittled, pushed down and down and down. And you just fucking accept it. You just nod your head, say nothing, repeat, repeat, repeat. It's fucking tragic your life. You know that right?"

"Stop," Anne said quietly, tears beginning to well. "Just stop."

"Why, because I'm telling the truth? Darcy pressed, raising his voice. "You know it's true."

"Why are you doing this? You're supposed to be my friend!"

"I am your friend, and I'll always be your friend. And friends tell each other the truth. Tell me, Anne, how many friends do you have? The answer is two, me and Richard. You haven't been allowed to have any others, all because of her. And because of you. We can't blame her completely, you're a grown woman. You could have walked away from her, said that enough was enough, but you haven't. You've stayed, you've bowed and scraped, what were you hoping for? Some approval, a kind word here and there? It's no way to live! You're a fucking shell, Anne. A fucking shell…."

Silence descended. Could hear the wind whistle through the air, the laughter of children from nearby. He waited and waited.

He waited and waited.

"What do you want?" she finally asked coldly.

"I want you to break the fucking cycle, Anne," he grabbed her by the hand. "I want you to take control of your life. I'll help you, every step of the way, I'll be there. But you need to want to do this. You need to want to become the woman I know you could be."

A pause before Anne responded.

"What do I have to do?"

Half an hour later he stood up from the bench and walked away from his friend, the job done. It had been easier than he'd ever expected. She was ready, she'd been ready for a while, she just needed the push. Opened the van door and climbed in next to Caroline who uncharacteristically didn't say anything as she drove them off, no biting remark, no congratulations on a job well done. She'd been listening in on the conversation, had heard everything.

"What's wrong?" he asked after five minutes, the silence finally unnerving him.

"I don't know," she kept her eyes on the road, voice quiet. "She was right, I mean, she's your friend….. I dunno … I guess sometimes I forget what a cold bastard you can be….."

Shut his eyes.

So tired.

"We need to call Richard and get him on the next flight. It's time he paid Alice Kranski a visit."

Arrows Bar, Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, One Year Ago and Four Months Ago….

"Fill her up." Richard Fitzwilliam instructed the barman, who obliged quickly, keen for the odd British man to continue tipping as he had been. Richard nodded gratefully and sipped at his whisky.

This was the kind of place where desperate men looked for desperate women, desperate women looked for desperate men, and everyone woke up in the morning with the same desperation still present. A place where hope was a byword for disappointment, where morals were left at the door, where loneliness couldn't be cured but perhaps could be temporarily forgotten. They came in droves. No tourists here though, no, this was strictly for the bottom of the rung. The Vegas workers who had come from all corners of the land to seek their dream, only to wake up years later, the wrong side of thirty, their looks disappearing due to the shitty jobs with the long hours that came with them, all of that childish hope gone. All that was left was an evening off a week spent in a shithole bar with two for one drink offers all night.

He glanced over to his mark again, making eye contact for the third time that evening and offering a small smirk. God he was good. Normally this would have been Charlie's role, he was the roper after all, but Richard had insisted. This had to be him. This flourish, this trick, it needed to be him. He wanted to be responsible for making Catherine feel like a total idiot. Could picture her face now as he stared back into his drink and smiled.

Was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder.

"Hi!" the slim thirtyish redhead introduced herself. God, this was going to be so easy.

"Hi yourself." he replied smoothly, could tell that his accent was already attracting her.

"I saw you looking at me." she said, boldly, inhibitions lowered due to the alcohol. "Thought I'd skip the waiting part."

"Did you now," he flashed her a grin. "And how do you know I was looking at you and not someone else?"

"Oh, I see," she laughed. "My mistake. I'll just go back over…."

She made to walk away, the smile plastered on her face. She knew what was coming and Richard wasn't going to disappoint her.

"Hey!" he touched her arm gently. "Now that you're here, I suppose I could get you a drink…"

"You could, could you?" she mimicked his accent back at him, he hated it when people did that. "I suppose I could be tempted…."

One hour and a couple of drinks later, she was giggling as Richard fumbled for the key to the motel room, and they staggered into the dark.

A light clicked on.

"Good evening, Alice." Caroline Bingley smirked from a chair next to the bed, her dark complexion dimly lit.

"What the fuck!" the woman exclaimed, shocked and suddenly scared. "Diego, what the hell is this?"

"Diego?" Caroline questioned humorously.

"A strong name." Richard defended with a chuckle of his own.

"I see there were no problems." Caroline nodded.

"None at all." Richard smirked.

"What the fuck is going on?" Alice shouted.

"Relax, Alice…" Caroline attempted to sooth.

"How the hell do you know my name? Who are you?"

The woman looked frightened, understandably so. She'd been picked up at a bar, taken back to a seedy motel and now a woman she didn't know was sat there telling her to relax.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Caroline said softly. "In fact, I want to offer you an opportunity of a lifetime."

"Diego, who the hell is she!"

"My name's not Diego, Alice," Richard said gently. "You're here because we need your help, and I think you might need ours."

"I don't understand…."

"Your name is Alice Kranski," Caroline recited mechanically. "Twenty nine year old single parent and Blackjack dealer at Rosings Park. Both parents dead, father of your son in prison, no family to speak of. And on last check you are now in $100,000 of debt. Threatening to take the house now aren't they…"

"What is this?" Alice backed up towards the door. Caroline and Richard made no move to stop her. They weren't complete monsters.

"A second chance, Alice," Caroline smiled broadly. "A second chance at life. A life where you never have to worry about money again, where you can live wherever you choose. Hell, you could even send your boy to a private school, not that I agree with that kind of thing. State education all the way…."

"I'm leaving." the redhead asserted and reached the door handle before Richard stopped her with a light touch causing her to flinch. He held his hands up in apology.

"Of course you may leave," Caroline nodded, before standing up and walking towards her. "But before you go, take this."

Picked up a handbag from the floor and handed it to the reluctant woman.

"There's ten thousand dollars in there," Caroline said lightly, ignoring the look of shock. "No strings attached, you can take it and never see us again. But if you want more, there is also a card inside with my number. Anytime, day or night, you can call me. I can make you rich, Alice, I can make all your dreams come true. The question is, what kind of life do you want? What kind of life do you want your son to have?"

Alice Kranski looked suspiciously between the two strangers, stunned at the turn of events. Reached behind her for the door handle, finding it, and backing out of the entrance. Turned and ran, hand clutching the bag. Richard and Caroline watched her go.

"Do you ever sometimes think we're terrible people?" Richard asked guiltily as he watched the woman run across the parking lot, obviously terrified.

"I don't think we are, I know we are," Caroline patted him on the shoulder. "We're the bad guys, Colonel, however much you and Darcy try to dress it up."

"Yeah, I suppose we are," Richard frowned before shutting the door. "Ah well, fuck it!"

Moral crisis over seconds after it had began.

"Fucking Diego," Caroline snorted, settling back in her chair. "How the hell did she fall for that? You're the whitest fucker I know."

"Worked didn't it?" Richard grinned back. "You think she'll call?"

"Yes." Caroline dismissed the question as if the answer was obvious.

"How can you be sure?"

"She took the bag," Caroline sighed. "Why do they always take the bag….?"

Slough, England, One Year and Two Months Ago…

From then on, things moved apace. They came up with the idea of getting in with the Bennet clan as a way to Collins, they spread the rumour that Darcy was retiring and the Bingley's were coming to London to recruit a new crew, and they began to execute. All the while behind the scenes, they were working on the actual plan, the actions hidden behind all the smoke and mirrors. They were purposefully throwing misdirection after misdirection in the air, blurring the picture as much as they could, playing Catherine's game and then some. Quietly, they worked out how they were going to win.

It was all going fine, well sort of, until Charlie had to go and ruin it by falling in love with Jane Bennet.

Darcy had cashed in his Ace. He had sent for The Italian to help him sort this mess out, pose as a police officer in an attempt to cast some doubt on Jane Bennet's loyalty. Not a nice move but a necessary one. She had agreed and was about to leave, but it was time to ask one last favour.

"Wait!" Darcy stopped her. "There is one more thing…"

"How would you like a trip to Las Vegas?"

She cocked an eyebrow, inviting him to continue. So he did, he went through it all with her, the whole plan. She listened impassively, not giving away a flicker until after he'd finished. Appraised him with stern eyes.

"You are one reckless motherfucker, William."

"Thank you."

"It was not meant as a compliment."

"Yes it was." he smirked.

"Ok fine, it was, but fuck this is risky. Brilliant, close to genius, but risky," she frowned before turning to Richard and Caroline. "And you two are ok with this?"

"We trust our fearless leader." Caroline drawled sarcastically, she was the member of the crew who had the most doubts about the whole thing. Darcy was pleasantly surprised that she had stuck around….

"Sounds like it," The Italian laughed, clearly warming to Caroline. "But why are you going to all this trouble, William? You have made more money than you could spend in ten lifetimes, you could buy any casino outright on the planet. Monaco, Vegas, London, Shanghai, anywhere. Why risk it for a small place in Scotland?"

"Because it's not about the money," he replied seriously. "You know that better than anyone."

She looked at him curiously for a moment, as if trying to work out a puzzle.

"If only I'd met you a few years earlier, Darcy," she pondered wistfully. "In a different time, in a different life, me and you could have been unstoppable together….."

Richard and Caroline glanced at each other, aware they had been completely forgotten in this back and forth.

"It's never the right time though, is it?" Darcy smiled a small smile, full of the unspoken.

"Never." she sighed, perhaps the first crack he'd ever seen in her. She was so untouchable, so far beyond mere mortals, that it was almost unfathomable to him that she was still a human being. A human being full of the same desires as all us are, searching for something, some semblance of meaning. As he looked at her, he understood for the first time how crushingly lonely her existence must be. Felt a stab of pity, something that she saw in his face straight away as her impossible, magnificent mask went up again.

"Ok then," she clapped her hands together. "If this is really your last score, William, then I think it only right that I am a part of it. So, I'll speak to the Bennets, and then…..?"

"You're going to conduct the biggest orchestra of grifters ever assembled." Darcy revealed.

"Oh, do tell…"

Desert Hills Motel, Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, Nine Months Ago…..

This had always been his favourite part. The waiting. His wobble in the desert a few days ago had subsided and he was more determined than ever. They'd done everything right, everything was set up. They'd infiltrated the warehouses of Catherine's machines after they'd made their escape from the Bennet's and all the unforeseen complications they'd caused, in reality doing nothing to the tech. Made sure they'd left an obscure but not impossible trail of breadcrumbs for Catherine's people to follow and draw the conclusion that her Ladyships bait had been taken. All that had actually happened was that Richard and Caroline had broke in, sat down for five minutes then went away again without touching anything. The months rolled by, and now? Well now they were just waiting. Now, that perfect time period when everything was set, when everything could still go wrong, when the adrenaline was at its highest. Marvelled at the plan once again. The smokescreen, the misdirection's, all of it.

Waiting and waiting. They were either about to become legends or about to become footnotes. It was thrilling. He found himself sat with Charlie in his terrible, flea ridden motel room, sharing a cigarette in companionable silence. Caroline had gone to get some food and Darcy was just enjoying being away from Catherine and even Richard for a little while. It had been a long time since he and his friends had just sat there and talked, no work to be done, no moves to be made. Just friends who had been through more together than almost anyone else.

"What will you do?" Charlie asked him as he blew smoke rings out into the room. "When it's all over, when you've got what you want? I mean, grifting is our life isn't it? How the fuck can we be ordinary after all this?"

"We're all trying to get out of the game," Darcy chuckled but it was unconvincing. "You would too if you could think of anything else to do."

"I'm being serious, Will," Charlie said after laughing a little. "I can't imagine ever doing anything else."

"Nor can I," Darcy admitted. "I guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."

"You gonna be a hotel manager?" Charlie smirked.

"Maybe."

"You'll be bored within a week."

"Oh undoubtedly." Darcy nodded in agreement. "I did it for a year and I've never felt more dead inside."

Charlie laughed again and passed his cigarette to Darcy who accepted it gratefully.

"You need a plan, Will."

"The truth is, I don't want to think about it," Darcy admitted in a small voice. "What comes next I mean. All these years, running and running with you, running away from everything and everyone else. By next week I'll have run out of track and then what? What the hell am I going to do? I'm fucking terrified, Charlie. So fucking terrified of standing still. So fucking terrified of what I might find, of who I might find staring back at me in the mirror….."

He shut his eyes, calming himself. Snapped back to reality and painted a smile on his face.

"What about you, Charlie? You going to set up your own crew?"

"I've been thinking about that," Charlie blew his cheeks out, realising that Darcy didn't want to talk about his own future. "This whole score has got me thinking more and more. I fucked up, I know that. I fell for a mark. How can I be sure that that won't happen again? How can I be responsible for others when I can't even look after my own end? So be my pal, Darcy, and tell me, after all that do you think I'm ready to be a leader?"

Darcy remained silent for a while. He'd been having the same thoughts. Before this, he'd thought Charlie was ready to make the step up and lead his own team. He was one of the most naturally gifted grifters he'd ever met, he inspired confidence in everyone around him, he was an all round decent human being. Well, half decent. Maybe that was the problem. He was decent. Was it possible to be the best grifter you could be and a reasonably good person at the same time? The answer was no, of course not. And Charlie? Well, he just didn't quite have it, that edge that you had to have. And that was no slight, if anything it was a compliment.

"No." he answered simply.

"I agree." Charlie sighed.

"Have you ever thought about doing something else?" Darcy asked him after a while. "Seriously?"

"What the fuck would I do?" Charlie laughed. "Tell me, what's better than this? I meant what I said, how could you ever give this up? This is fucking living."

"It's hurt you though." Darcy mused, thinking about Jane Bennet.

"But that's just part of it, isn't it? Without this game, I'd never have met her, I'd never have fallen in love, I'd never have lost that love. I'd never have felt this bad. Life is highs and lows, pain and joy, and I've experienced all of it, heightened and heightened, crescendo after crescendo. To be a grifter is to fucking live. I've lived because of what we do, and I want to continue to do so, however much pain may be down the line. It's better than being numb is it not? And when I die, I will go safe in the knowledge that I lived life my way, no-one else's."

Darcy raised his glass.

"To grifting."

They clinked glasses.

"What will you do then?" Darcy asked. "Find a new crew, work as a roper?"

"Maybe. But I was thinking… What do you think, Will? Do you think she's ready?"

He caught the drift straight away and he was surprised and slightly ashamed that he'd never really considered it before. Was she ready? Was Caroline Bingley leadership material? The selfish, often objectionable, judgemental, ruthless, intelligent, funny, beautiful woman, was she the answer? The one to pass the baton too? She'd been brilliant in this score and when he thought about it, she'd never been anything less in all their time together.

Just as he was musing, Caroline burst into the room.

"Right, they didn't have any pepperoni left so you ugly fuckers will have to settle for Hawaiian."

"You know what, Charlie," Darcy smiled. "I think she just might be."

"Might be what?" Caroline narrowed her eyes.

Before they could answer, the phone rang. They all looked at it and they knew. This was it. Darcy picked up.

"We go in two days." Richard said before clicking off.

Darcy smiled as he put the phone down.

"The day after tomorrow." he confirmed to the siblings.

"About fucking time." Caroline smirked.

Fontainebleau Resort, Las Vegas, USA, Nine months ago…..

Caroline took off her sunglasses and scratched at the blonde wig. A necessary but uncomfortable disguise. From the moment she'd touched down again in Vegas she'd been under surveillance by Catherine's people, they all had. That was fine, they'd expected it, even encouraged it. She and Charlie had been careful to keep a low profile, make it look as if they were hiding out, that they had no idea they were being watched. And they'd done it well. But this part, this part of the plan had relied on the fact that she could give them the slip, just for a couple of hours. It had been tough, she'd had to lose them without making it look like she was trying to. Had taken an afternoon. Now here she was in the abandoned hotel, one of the most expensive flops in Vegas history, standing in front of thirty or so people all with there eyes locked on her.

The grifters had come to town.

Around six months ago it had began. Darcy quietly began making the phone calls that would get all these people in the same place, the greatest cast of grifters ever assembled. Every favour was called in, every tactic used. And they came. They all came for the great William Darcy's last score. It hadn't taken much to persuade them to be a part of history, to work with and play a small part in the best crew in existence's final hurrah.

Over the last few weeks they had been trickling into the city some by plane, some by car, some by boat, all using false names and passports carefully assembled by Richard. Finally now they were all together. The anticipation in the air was thick, the excitement palpable. They were about to rob a Vegas casino. Like the boxer fighting in their sports Mecca for the first time, these nights are what they lived for, what every grifter dreamt of.

They were going to pull off the most brazen and audacious misdirection ever attempted.

To go through all the names present would take too long, but a the names of tonights 'team leaders' as it were could paint the picture of just how good these people were at being dishonest. Standing towards the back was Scottish Nick, a Frenchman who got his nickname from his first big con in which he had sold Edinburgh Castle to a group of American businessmen. Not content with the million he took off them, he went back the next week and charged them forty grand to install double glazing just because he could. He epitomised the saying 'It's not about the money', he did this for the thrill of it. Off to the side and slightly removed was Cassie Black, tapped up by Darcy at the Poker game back in London all those months ago. Cassie was a master of disguise, had made her name working the 'hot prowl' in the early noughties, a scheme that involved waiting for someone to win big at a casino, cash out and go to bed, before slipping into their hotel suite whilst they were sleeping and crack the safe. It was the most dangerous game around and had claimed many lives, but Cassie was too good to be caught. Nowadays she worked as the inside woman in her own high end crew based in Toronto, but Vegas was her home from home, she knew this city like no other. Fidgeting at the front was a nervous looking woman who's countenance belied what she did. 'Dozen Iron' Jessie, a long con legend who's cool out technique was as famous as it was dangerous. The cool out is the key part of the grift, the stage where you have to make sure the mark can never come after you. Most used the threat of legal repercussions or exposure to their families, but Jessie went for the more nuclear approach. Every single score would end with her getting shot. She'd tape blood bags to her body and have a so far unseen member of her crew burst in at the last pretending to be an irate previous mark and shoot her. She'd press the switch, the bag would burst and she'd lie in a pool of blood, seemingly dead. It took such guts. The list went on, Ricky Rock, Samba Ngolou, Katie Spades, Li Tin and more, the best in the world. And Caroline Bingley was in front of them.

Couldn't help but feel slightly nervous, despite the fact she knew she belonged in this class of criminal, that they respected her almost as much as Darcy himself. Wished that Louisa and Hurst could have been here, but Lizzy Bennet's appearance had put paid to that, couldn't risk her recognizing them. Cassie and The Italian were calculated risks, both could change their appearance at will and were unlikely to be recognized, particularly as Richard had made sure that Lizzy would be atrociously hungover today, taking her out to XS last night. Hopefully, The Italian's disguise would be enough to fool Charlie as well and he wouldn't recognize her from when she'd played D.I Zampino in their photos that had persuade him to ditch Jane Bennet. They'd kept him at arms length from her, Darcy telling him he had The Italian on his side but she wasn't to be seen by anyone until the go. But now, job to do.

Job to do.

"Ok, thank you all for coming," she raised her voice above the whispering, attention on her straight away. "I speak for Darcy on this, he is very grateful. We know you have your own shit going on, some of you have even dropped scores to be here tonight. That means a lot."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world!" Katie grinned to nods of agreement.

"It's going to be quite the night," Caroline smiled back. "I trust we all know what we're doing?"

Nods of the affirmative.

"Good. We stagger the entrances just like we planned. Each group of you has the transport mapped out to Rosings. You trickle into the Casino over the next few hours. When it's time, the signal will be given…"

"Which is?" Jessie piped up, ringing her hands together. "We still don't know…."

"And you won't know until it happens," Caro said sternly. "But when it is time, trust me you'll know. One of you will be approached and given the directions, then you'll move into position. Remember you need to screen as much as you can."

"We're ready." Scottish Nick reassured her.

"I know. Ok then, I need to get back. Remember, stagger the entrances, screen what you can and get out as soon as the lights go off. No hanging around in the city, go straight back home and burn the identities. Understand?"

More nods.

"Alright. It's gonna be a good night, ladies and gentleman. A good night indeed…."

Rosings Park, Las Vegas, USA, Nine Months Ago…..

She walked across the casino floor having been relieved of her duties for her half an hour break, mind whirring and whirring, rusty cogs scraping.

She'd done some stupid things in her time. Moving to Las Vegas, getting pregnant by some deadbeat drug dealer with an empty smile, letting the debts pile up and pile up. But this? This was surely the winner. This was Alice Kranski's descent into madness. What the hell was she doing?

She was either about to become a millionaire or a number on a jumpsuit.

Her son was either going to grow up with everything or grow up with even less than he already had.

Was it worth the risk?

It was the question that had been sloshing round and round in her washing up bowl of a mind over the last few months, ever since she' met those British people with their charm and their money and their manipulations. They'd known everything about her, every single thing, which buttons to press, which weaknesses to probe and prod. And they had the biggest incentive of all. Money. Lots of fucking money. Hadn't taken her long to cave after their first encounter, the seduction and then the sting. Held out barely a month before she called. Ten thousand dollars only went so far, especially in her situation. All it did was delay. Suspected that was no accident, suspected that the Brits had calculated it all.

She'd seen them sporadically over the past few months, but things had picked up the pace over the last week until it was finally time to go. She was told the plan just a week ago, meeting that Scottish man whom she'd found charming enough to fall for his targeted patter so much so that she was willing, even eager to sleep with him, outside The Bellagio, brazenly being led into the hotel for all to see. Was that right? If she was really going to do this, shouldn't they be taking some precautions? She knew very little about professional thieves or whatever these people were, but surely this type of thing was done out of sight, not in the middle of the day for everyone to see. Winded up in a hotel suite with another man, serious and quiet but who nevertheless exuded authority. No sign of the smirking woman who she'd previously assumed to be the leader until meeting this new character. She was horribly intimidated. They took pains to try to make her at ease, offering her a drink, keeping their distance, but she was still in a hotel room with two men who were strangers, one who had already violated her trust.

And now it was time.

It was like she was in a dream, this couldn't really be happening. She wasn't walking through the employees lounge, taking the elevator down to the basement. Didn't duck into the empty room, find the bag that was waiting for her, take off her uniform and replace it with a maintenance one. She wasn't being waved through by security like they said she would be. She wasn't entering the server room, again waved through. No way did she bend down and attach the device to the red wire. Couldn't have walked back out of that room, offering a smile to the guard, throwing off a comment about how she'd need someone higher up to come take a look. And surely, surely, she didn't go back to work as if nothing had happened.

But she did.

And she waited for the lights to go out….

Room 1176, Rosings Park, Las Vegas, USA, Nine Months Ago….

"We're in!" Richard exclaimed excitedly, tapping away at his keyboard in the room they had broken into to execute the plan.

"Good," Darcy breathed out in relief, leaning over his cousins shoulder. "Show me the CCTV."

A couple of clicks and they had the feed up.

"And you're sure this can't be traced?" Darcy asked.

"Fucking hell, Darcy," Richard replied in annoyance. "How many times have we been over this? The piggyback's untraceable and the trojan will replace it on these devices with something else entirely. Another little joke at Catherine's expense…"

"But what about the system hack itself, changing the payouts…"

"Oh my fucking lord!" Richard span round in his chair to face his cousin. "Darcy, stop it! Unless anyone stumbles into the server room and happens to pick the one in a thousand wires the miniscule device is attached to, which is about as likely as you getting laid anytime soon, then it'll be fine. And it's been tested on every conceivable system hundreds of times. How many times do you think it failed?"

"None." Darcy admitted.

"Exactly, I'm a genius, now get off my fucking back!"

"Well, they do say PathSafe is unhackable…" Charlie stirred the pot.

"Really not helping, Charlie," Richard sneered, turning back to his codes. "It's not that PathSafe is unhackable, it's just impossible to cheat once you're in. But we're not actually cheating, or at least not cheating in their definition of cheating. I'm just adding a few zeros onto certain wins…."

"And how is that not cheating?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Richard explained, tapping away furiously. "It's a workaround, Charlie, a trick, what all hackers do. Now, can I please get on with my job? You know, the job that's made us all millionaires?"

"Fine, fine." Darcy held his hands up and walked away from the screens.

"What's the time?" Charlie asked, a hint of worry.

"Almost time. She'll be here soon….."

Entrance Lobby, Rosings Park, Las Vegas, USA, Nine Months Ago….

Caroline sipped on her coffee, one of those awful take out blends, blonde wig and sunglasses still adorned. Was sat on a chair, pretending to idly flick through a magazine as she drank, but her eyes were constantly on the door. Could feel that she was being watched, Catherine's team had picked her back up as soon as she entered the casino. That was fine, even good. This was where she wanted their attention.

All on her.

Not on the thirty wanted criminals currently converging on Rosings Park, arriving in their designated teams right on cue. Snorted slightly at Scottish Nick's choice of Hawaiian shirt, the cliché of the French being the most fashionable people in the world wholly put to bed. But it fit. It was a good cover. No doubt he'd have a Texan accent to go with it. Finally the last team entered, led by Cassie who already looked completely different to a few hours ago.

She got up, feeling the eyes follow her, walked up to the elevator and got in, heading to the room where they were going to do this. Arrived soon after.

Caroline rushed into the room, her blonde wig and sunglasses making her almost unrecognizable.

"Is it done?" Darcy asked.

"It's done, she affirmed. "That's the last of them. This better work, William…."

"When have I ever let you down?"

They waited, Darcy giving a somewhat sentimental speech which Richard had called him out on. And then, finally….

"We're on," Richard broke the silence. "Slot's, machine number 221 is a go, paying out $67,000 now."

Darcy looked at the monitor and saw the woman who had won, the look of elation, of surprise.

This was the starter. You see, slots paid out most nights in casino's and it wasn't too difficult for someone with Richard's talent to predict when the next reasonably big win would come. It was all just probabilities. So they'd taken an educated gamble. The win was clean, they were just going to tell Catherine that it wasn't, make her think they'd rigged it when in fact they'd done nothing but predicted and waited.

Just another misdirection.

"Go! Well done Richard good start," Darcy nodded. "Where's Catherine?"

"Roulette Wheel 19, talking to one Lizzy Bennet.

Darcy put her out her out of his mind. No distractions, this was it.

Casino Floor, Rosings Park, Las Vegas, USA….

The Italian waltzed her way gracefully around the casino, making sure to keep tabs on everyone, waiting for the signal. Had been circling the floor for a while now, occasionally placing a few small bets, nothing to draw attention though and always with her eyes firmly fixed on the prize. Marvelled again at his plan. It turned out Will Darcy still had some surprises left in him. This plan was verging on insanity, teetering on the edge of inspired genius. Who'd have thought it when she'd first met him in Krakow all those years ago that this would be where they'd end up. Pretending to rob a Vegas casino. A fitting end. She was happy it had turned out this way, but she was even happier with the knowledge that she'd have no problem slipping away if it went wrong. She had three different escape routes that Darcy was unaware of, it was how she worked. Always careful, always considered, always the smartest person in the room.

"Ok, let's put it closer to home," Darcy's voice crackled through The Italian's earpiece. "Roulette Wheel 20, do your stuff."

Rolled her eyes. 'Do your stuff', honestly. Put any man in this sort of situation and he couldn't help but come out with the clichés. Problem with heists, she chuckled inwardly, people (ie men) always got overexcited, thought they were fucking George Clooney or Brad Pitt.

Walked straight past Lady Catherine and Elizabeth Bennet again. She'd done the same earlier, hadn't been able to resist getting a look at the woman they were about to 'rob'. This time, she remained unseen, but the time before she had felt Catherine's eyes on her, judging her. Not Lizzy Bennet's though, that woman wasn't half as good as she thought she was. But Catherine, what a ridiculous woman. Despite this, she admired the old crone a little, it took a lot to be successful in this city, took even more if you were a woman. And now she was about to be 'robbed' by she, The Italian, there was no greater honour perversely. No greater yardstick by which to judge your importance.

Scottish Nick's team weren't far away, they were milling around the wheels. Fuck, what the hell was he wearing though? Shook herself and drew her attention away from that monstrosity of an outfit and sidled over, tripping and falling into him, clutching his arm for support.

"Are you ok?" the Frenchman looked down on her concerned in a passable Texan accent.

"So sorry," she replied breathlessly before she lowered her tone to a murmur. "The Colonel recommends Wheel 20."

And then she was gone.

Scottish Nick took no time to action the signal, didn't waste his time trying to figure out just who the mysterious woman was despite his curiosity. He had his suspicions, rumours of Darcy's relationship with a certain grifting legend had been whispered of, but he knew it was none of his business. He had a job to do, a reputation to uphold and even enhance. To be part of this elite group, handpicked by one of the greatest grifters of all time was something you didn't take lightly.

"Damn!" he called out obnoxiously in his Texan accent, signalling to his team of ten that was nearby, some pretending to be with his party, some just bystanders. "This table ain't playing with me tonight! What say we move over?"

"Roulette still?" he was asked by his longtime associate.

"Oh yeah!" he exclaimed. "I ain't done with this baby yet!"

He led them over to Wheel 20 and barged his way to the front, his crew taking up their positions to cover various viewpoints. Key was to block Lady Catherine's view of the table, screen as much as they could.

This was it.

He and two others from his team placed the bets. A small amount on a third each. One of them was going to win, that was important.

The spin came, the ball clattered.

Nick had won.

This was it.

He cheered uproariously, as did the rest of them, all wildly celebrating as if they'd won millions as opposed to the very minor amount they actually had. They hugged and kissed, laughed and shouted, causing confusion on the croupiers account. Nick made some offhand comment to him, saying they'd been bleeding chips all night and that all the celebrations were an ironic joke. It seemed to placate him. They continued on in this fashion for a while, making sure to block Catherine's and any other important security's view with their bodies. They had to think someone had just won big. Eventually they began to drift away, job done, waiting for the lights to go out…..

A few minutes later, The Italian smirked as the cheers went up from the Blackjack table. Watched as the news began to filter through to security and the picnic began to mount. It was working. This insane plan was actually fucking working. Moved across the room, glancing again at Catherine who now had a phone glued to her ear, frowning away. Gave the signal to the final team led by Cassie and prepared to make her exit. Her part was done. She couldn't believe it, this ridiculous, beyond audacious misdirection was being pulled off. Here's how it worked, Richard had hacked into the Rosings system, adding zeros on to every small win the teams had facilitated by simply packing the tables and playing the averages. On the computer in the main hub, the false win would come up. The security, Catherine, they all thought that someone had just won $100,000, when in fact it was just $100. Just adding zeros onto a computer. All the cheering, the celebrating, just the first of many misdirections. All piled on top of each other, so elegantly, so simply. The simple cons are the best.

Of course, there was still a long way to go, still a lot to be done. Not by her though. Went up to the bar, ordered herself a martini. Two minutes later the lights went out and they all slipped away into the night, as if they'd never been there.

It was now up to them, the four friends who had carved themselves into grifting folklore. And it would end how it should, with William Darcy and Lady Catherine De Bourgh talking alone in a room.

Rosings Park, Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, Nine Months Ago….

"I'll get straight on it." Anne said breathlessly before rushing out the room.

Slowed her pace to a brisk walk as she moved down the corridors, about to do what she should have done years ago. Or maybe she shouldn't have. Was this the right thing to do? Betraying her own mother like this? Couldn't she just have walked away, apologised and said she needed to finally fly the nest? No, that had never been an option, had never been a possible hand to play. Her mother would never have allowed it. This was the only way, Darcy had helped her see that. So now here she was, about to aid and abet a criminal gang. Could go to prison. But wasn't she already in one? Already serving a life sentence? Never allowed to go to school, never allowed to have friends, even University had been done online from home. The best years of her life, all gone. All given away to her mother.

It was time to reclaim some.

Made it to the security hub in quick time, only pausing for one deep breath. She was in this now, fully and completely. No backing out.

"Jerry," she called to the head of the privately hired team. "You been watching the interrogation room feed? Message from my mother. All CCTV needs to be wiped from the interrogation room, and from in here."

"Yeah, I know." he replied wearily, frustration in his voice.

"I know, I know," she held up her hands. "It's her own fault. She's insisting on talking to them all, trying to get a confession before calling the police."

"It's just stupid." he sighed.

"Yeah," she nodded, the right tone of exasperation evident. "Bu you see, when she does call the police and the CCTV shows us holding them without calling them for hours then Darcy will have a readymade defence in court. Could even be enough to get the bastard off."

"Alright, fine," Jerry shrugged. "But why from in here?"

"You heard of entrapment, Jerry?" Anne asked, innocently. "You really want the police to know that we set this whole thing up so they'd get caught?"

"This job," Jerry moaned. "You ain't paying me half as well as you should for this shit."

"Get it done. All of it, no backups, we can't take the risk." Anne ignored him, looking expectant.

"Fine, fine."

"Good. Now, I've got to get back before she does anything else that could get us arrested."

Heard Jerry's snort as she walked back the way she came. Closed the door behind her and leant against it, allowing herself a brief moment to compose herself. Part one was done. Now it was time to truly stick the knife in the back.

Made her way back and lingered outside the room, mobile pressed against her ear. She'd left another one under her chair in the room so she could listen in and hear when Caroline was about to pretend to break.

"Do you know who he is? How powerful he is? If I speak, I'll be hounded for the rest of my life, always looking over my shoulder….."

There was the signal. Moved into room.

"Mother, the paperwork's ready, just need your autograph." she bustled in, heart beating, chest pounding.

"Not now, Anne!" her mother shouted. "She's about to give them all up!"

"Now, mother!" Anne asserted. She tapped twice on the glass, causing the interrogation to stop, much to everyone's annoyance. "I will not let your victory be tainted because you would not observe the correct practice!"

Saw her mother appear to way something up as she looked coldly at her. For a moment she thought the game was up, that she'd been found out. But then she finally broke out into a broad smile.

"It is our victory, darling! You have done me so proud tonight, Anne my dear."

Don't let it get to you, Anne thought, steeling herself. She'd chased this kind of approval for so long, a misguided way to live. Don't buckle now.

She produced the four documents. They weren't holding forms, they weren't anything. All except one. One deed, the third one that her mother would sign. The deed to Pemberley. Her mother was about o give William Darcy his casino back.

"I'm glad," Anne managed to grin, playing the grateful daughter. "Now just sign on the bottom here, all four of them. This should give us everything we need. They're going down mother! All of them!"

Her mother nodded and signed her name on all of them. Time seemed to slow as she went through them one by one, not even looking at them. That had been the idea. Play of her trust in her, her meekness, never would her daughter do anything dishonest to her.

And it had worked.

"Ok, I'll get these along to legal," Anne said. "But you need to call the police within the hour. And don't forget the CCTV in here has to go. No keeping secret copies to gloat over, it's too risky…."

Reinforcement. Knew Jerry was listening from the hub, knew that hearing that would give him the kick he needed if he hadn't already actioned her request.

"You truly are my daughter!" her mother roared in laughter. "Such insolence, do you see, Miss Bennet? I think I have a new candidate to take over Pemberley for me…."

"We're not done yet," Anne warned, willing herself to act normal, to not run away and make it obvious. "No mistakes."

"Don't worry, Anne. Miss Bouzid is about to give it all up."

"That'll certainly make it easier in court," Anne nodded calmly, but inside she was buring up. She needed to get out of there. "Ok, I'll run these down to legal."

Remembered to rap on the glass to allow the interrogation to continue and caught a brief glimpse of Caroline Bouzid, and was sure she saw her give a slight nod.

She'd done it.

Holding the deeds to Pemberley, she walked as calmly as she could out of the room, ready for her life to finally begin.

Rosings Park, Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, Nine Months Ago…..

"My own daughter, William? Really?"

They stared at each other, neither giving an inch. These two people, an old woman and a young man, thrown together by a friendship that had long since died, a relationship that both hadn't wanted to continue but had been forced to for the most differing of reasons. On one side, a man scorned with dented pride, the righteous anger of the young on his side, unwavering in his belief that he had been wronged and relentless in his pursuit of his twisted justice. On the other, a difficult and often unpleasant woman, reluctantly compelled by the constraints of her love for her best friends to stick around and watch him grow up, hoping against hope that the potential she knew was within him would finally burst forth and turn him into something his parents would be proud of.

Neither were right, neither were wrong.

Somewhere in the deeper reaches of their minds they knew that but they would never admit it.

And anyway, there was still work to be done.

"How did you know?" Catherine asked him. She thought she'd played it perfectly, but it turned out she was the one being strung along. It wasn't over yet though….

"You got arrogant, Aunt," Darcy smiled coldly. "Underestimated me. You tried to take me on at my own game. Do you know how many people I've taken money from? I'm the best long con player of my generation, do you think I can't spot a honey trap a mile off? Billy Collins, I ask you….."

"Hiring Billy Collins and overreacting to a minor take is exactly something your idea of me would do, isn't it? I know what you think of me, Will, I've known for years. 'The mad old woman's lost it', I thought it would fit perfectly with your misguided narrative. Thought you'd rush to believe the worst of me."

"You think I think so little of you?" Darcy raised his eyebrows. "Just because I don't like you doesn't mean I can't appreciate some of your qualities. And stupid and impulsive you have never been. No, it was too out of character. I wanted to believe it, I really did, but I couldn't, it didn't fit. From then on it was a case of figuring out just what you had been doing. Stopping me in my tracks every time. Genius. You are one of the very few people alive who have been able to complete blindside me, and you did it for years."

"'One of the only few people alive' ….. and I'm the arrogant one am I …" Catherine rolled her eyes.

"I'm just telling the truth," Darcy shrugged. "Why did you try it? Why the hell did you try to force it? You could have just waited, waited for me to try again and then finally put me in prison instead of quietly shutting me down and pretending like nothing had happened. But no, you were so sure of yourself, so sure that we were nothing but scum who preyed on the weak and stupid, so sure that you were so much more intelligent. You weren't. You aren't. You played my game and you lost."

"But have I?" Catherine narrowed her eyes, finally pouncing. "Have I really lost? I've seen nothing here today that cannot be undone."

"How so?" Darcy frowned.

"Do you know anything about contract law?" she asked condescendingly. "What, you think because I signed over a deed, however genuine, that that's the end of it? A couple of signatures and you now own Pemberley again? We're not in the 19th century, William. There's checks and balances. It has to go through the board for a start, not to mention the coercion involved. I might not be able to send you down for as long as I'd hoped, but you'll still do time for it. God, what was my daughter thinking?"

Darcy shut his eyes tight, leaning back in his chair, collecting himself for the last push.

"You still don't get it." he sighed.

"What do you mean?" she asked sharply. "I think it's you who's deluded here."

"After all this, you still think you're smarter than me, you're still underestimating me. I put that Blackjack dealer we turned right in front of you on purpose, you know, Richard paraded her around and still you didn't see it. I knew this would happen. I knew you'd ignore it as it wasn't part of your game. Knew you'd still think you were smarter than me." he laughed softly, eyes still closed.

"You're proving me right." Catherine asserted, but the unease was creeping in.

"Allow me to prove you wrong," he leant forward, opening his eyes and smirking. "The papers you signed, they were a flourish. A symbol if you will. Completely and utterly worthless. I did that bit just because I could."

"What are you talking about?" Catherine spat, thoroughly confused.

"There were no contracts, keep up!" Darcy snapped his fingers, a hint of impatience showing. "That part was all for Anne, to get her away from you."

"But ….. then, what have you achieved here? You've won no money, no contract..." Catherine stuttered.

"All of it, every single piece of it, was just so I could get here with you in this room, just you and me. The wins, your daughter, all of it. Because I'm going to walk out of here in five minutes and you're going to let me. And then tomorrow you are going to set things in motion for the handover. I expect to have Pemberley back within the month….."

"You're insane!" Catherine interrupted with a shout. "What are you talking about? Give you back Pemberley?"

"Of course," Darcy said simply. "I mean you don't have to per se, but I think you will…"

"Insane." she repeated in a whisper.

"No, just a grifter," Darcy corrected. "If you want to then by all means arrest me, hand me over to the police and give them everything you have. Which is very little by the way, considering your daughter did us the kind favour of relieving you of your CCTV. And before you protest that everything is backed up, don't forget that I also have Richard Fitzwilliam on my side, a man who has already made you look like a fool once tonight. Do you really want that to happen twice? But anyway, if that doesn't dissuade you then carry on, tell the cops what has happened here tonight. However, be prepared to deal with the consequences of that. The Gaming Commission will be called in and I know enough about this city and the hoteliers who run it that that sentence is possibly the worst they could ever hear."

"I have nothing to hide." Catherine attempted to dismiss.

"Over half a century in this business and there's nothing?" Darcy raised his brow quizzically. "Come on, Catherine, don't be so ridiculous. The last thing you want is for the Commission to come poking around."

"I could take the chance."

"You could," Darcy nodded. "Indeed, maybe you will. But before you do, stop and think because there will be other consequences to you turning me in. Tonight, I made it look like your casino was being robbed when it actually wasn't and you believed it. Think about that for a moment. How ridiculous is it when put simply? I've made a fool out of you, and your daughter helped me. Everyone will know, I'll make sure of that. The press, the board, the competition. Lady Catherine De Bourgh, the Queen of Las Vegas, running around like a demented old crow, seeing things that weren't there, so utterly paranoid that someone was stealing from her when it fact nothing happened at all. Quite the embarrassment I'd say. What will your competitors make of that, what will your partners make of it? This is Las Vegas, the most unforgiving city in the world. You live and die by your reputation out here. One wrong move and they'll come, vultures swooping in from the skyscrapers, destroying you and everything you have. If this story gets out, well, I doubt you'll ever recover from it. Careers in this city have been burned on so much less. Remember Jimmy Flores, Thomas Hull? You'll be a laughing stock. You were tricked into thinking your casino was being robbed when it wasn't? Jesus. 'It's just Lady Catherine' they'll say, 'She used to be the Queen until she lost it completely. Quite mad indeed nowadays.' So you see, if you don't sign Pemberley over to me, you'll be finished. Completely spent. Everyone in this city will know what has happened, or indeed what has not happened, and it'll be game over. Your reputation in tatters. You'll lose Rosings, no doubt. You'll lose everything, unless…."

"Unless I give you Pemberley." she sighed, the defeat finally there.

He'd done it.

"Such a clever boy," Catherine said after a while, her voice small and tired.

Darcy leant back in his chair again, only this time the pose was different. It was the pose of a winner. He saw the defeat in her eyes. He'd done it. She'd been beaten and she knew it.

"Such a clever boy," Catherine repeated, but this time there was no praise meant and her eyes became steel, her voice recovering that trademark strength. "All your tricks and illusions, all your little mind games. But tell me, William, what is the point of it all? This grifting thing you do? Has it made you happy? Have you been trying to prove something? Change the world? Or is it in fact something all the more tragic? All these flourishes, all these games you play, they're all just distractions aren't they? Designed so no-one can see just how boring you truly are."

"Boring?" Darcy narrowed his eyes. "Grifters may be many things, but boring is not one of them. To be a grifter is to live, live your own way and no-one elses…."

"Maybe it is for some," Catherine interrupted.. "But not for you. The poor little rich boy who so desperately wanted to throw away his future in a fit of self pity, but his inherent privilege would never let him do so. Oh how that must of hurt, aristocracy never leaves you however much you may try to shed it. So, when that didn't work he came up with a new narrative. Imagining himself as some kind of outlaw, as some kind of tragically poetic figure. I bet you think they could write stories about you don't you? The young man who lost his parents, drowned himself in sorrow, alcohol and drugs, before he turned his life around by becoming a criminal with morals. What a story indeed!"

Catherine leaned closer to him.

"But you see, William, it's a story that's been told a million times. It's fucking boring. You're just a petulant child who threw their toys out of the pram when they couldn't get what they wanted. That's it, nothing more. And now you have what you want, now you are victorious, your self righteousness has won the day. I congratulate you, nephew."

"Pemberley was never yours," Darcy said through gritted teeth, trying not to show how much her words were affecting him. "It was my families, mine and Georgiana's…"

"There it is again!" Catherine cut across him with a laugh. "That wilful and ignorant twisting of it all. Nothing is ever anyone's until they earn it. Do you think you've earned it, William? Shall we ask your sister?"

"Don't speak about her!"

"You brought her up," Catherine held her hands up, a glint in her eye. "Do you think this will fix things with her? It's just a plaster, William, papering over all those scars. You abandoned her to be who you are and now you use her as a justification? You don't care about her, you don't care about anybody but yourself. Even taking back Pemberley, your most 'righteous' mission, how many people have you trampled into the dirt to do so? How many lives have you stepped on? People are nothing but tools to you, stupid creatures to manipulate to your own end. You turned a daughter against her own mother, what just because you could? Are those the actions of a good man? A just and righteous man?"

"I did it to help her, she's better off without you," Darcy snapped. "Mother of the year you certainly are not."

"I did the best with what I have," Catherine shrugged. "I do not pretend to be any less flawed than every one else. I am who I am, I have accepted that. But you? You can't do it can you? You can't reach past all that blinding anger that's buried within you, that misplaced anger. 'The world owes me something' attitude, that's what I can't stand about you. It's Just. So. Boring.

Darcy said nothing, the words pricking him like tiny knives, stabbing and stabbing away.

"You know its true. You're a boring little man, such a spectacular cliché, a coward who runs away, who believes with every scheme he is adding another chapter to his quasi heroic tale. Well, I've got news for you, something I believe you know deep down,"

She leaned in even closer, lowering her voice to a whisper.

"You're not the good guy in this story, William. In fact, it's quite the opposite."

He knew.

"Now, I've wasted enough of my time on you," Catherine stood up, dismissing him. "You are free to go, go back to Pemberley, I won't try to stop you. I'll set things in motion, to be honest I'm glad to be rid of you. But know this, my dear nephew, if you carry on like this, you're going to remain so terrifically alone and unhappy until the day you die. And you'll bloody deserve it."

She swept regally out the room and even though the facts said that William Darcy had beaten her, he had outthought her, he had taken back what was his, in that moment sat on the uncomfortable wooden chair, he felt further from a winner than he ever had before.

Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, USA, Three Days Later…

"An art gallery, William?" The Italian sat down next to him on the bench in front of an absurdist sculpture. "Must we be so cliché in our clandestine meetings?"

He laughed softly.

"I've recently been reliably informed that my whole life is one big cliché." he replied, eyes fixed on the sculpture, a slight crease in his forehead.

"What, someone had to tell you?" The Italian chuckled. "For someone so perceptive you have a remarkable lack of self awareness."

"Maybe you're right." he admitted quietly.

"Of course I am, it's what I do. Anyway, you have something for me?"

Darcy reached into his jacket pocket and produced the letter, handing it over.

"To be delivered to Elizabeth Bennet. Thank you for doing this."

"No worries," she waved him off. "I'm stopping off in London anyway, rumour has it the Panthers are about to hit Mayfair again, can't let those Serbians have all the fun…"

"Rumour or fact?"

She just smirked and waved the letter.

"What's in this anyway?" she asked.

"Me," he sighed. "Just me. Me in all my contradictions, all my justifications. I'm not even sure if I believe half the things I wrote to her. But I'm too tired, I just want this to be over."

She frowned at him.

"I must admit, I expected something quite different. You won yet you sit here as if defeated. Tell me, how does it feel, Will? The proud owner of Pemberley. How does it feel to finally get what you've wanted for so long?"

He paused and weighed her question. How did he feel? Searched and searched for something, some change within himself, anything. But he couldn't find it. There was nothing there. Now that the adrenaline and initial euphoria had worn off, it was just the same. The same feelings of self loathing, loneliness and something else too, something he'd never been able to put his finger on until now. Something his Aunt had fired at him, a seemingly minor point in her tirade, but the thing that had hit him hardest. Perhaps the thing that had driven him all these years, that had made him who he was.

"It's funny, you know," he said quietly after a while. "All these long years trying to figure out who I am. What I am I know, I have always embraced that, how could I not? But it's in the why, that's where the problem lies. Why am I like this? And now I think I may have finally found the answer. But… Shit, I don't know. I guess….

He closed his eyes.

"I guess…. well I guess I never thought of myself as a particularly angry person….."

There was a beat of silence before The Italian laughed loud and long.

"Oh, William," she wiped her eye with hints of pity and slight condescension. "Remember at Pemberley when I first told you who I was? Remember the first question you asked?"

"I asked, why me? Why were you spending your time with me? I still have no idea. You're a legend, a myth, a ghost on the wind. Why did you reach so far down and pick me? You didn't answer, you just kissed me….."

"Ah, yes," she smirked. "Well, I think it's time I gave you your answers. I first reached out because I was simply curious. The whispers about you were getting louder, they said you were good, could be the very best. I've been out on my own for so long, I thought that maybe you could be a potential muse, even an equal. Of course you weren't back then, you still aren't, despite what I said back in Slough, despite all you've achieved since. But I honestly planned on seeing you that one time, judging you and then never seeing you again."

"So, what changed? Why have you kept coming back?"

The Italian smiled at him, but it was a sad one.

"Our sufferings in life do not compare you realise, let's get that out the way," she began, throwing Darcy off a bit with the change of direction. "I have been through more than you could ever imagine. But it's not about that. Sometimes I think that I've met every person on this wretched planet, all of them. From the slum to the penthouse, from the suburb to the manor, I've known them all. Drug dealers, arms dealers, pimps and prostitutes, murderers, do gooders, politicians, CEO's, office workers, suburban house wives, street rats, thieves, grifters…. Well, I know all of them intimately. And honestly I've never met anyone, not a single one, with as much anger inside them as me…."

She looked at him.

"Until I met you. That's why I kept coming back. Because behind all that marble, honestly, William Darcy, you are the angriest person I've ever known."

She stood up with a sigh.

"I'll deliver this letter for you," she began to wrap things up. "And ask yourself why you chose this girl, William. I think you may now have the answer. But after I have done this…"

"We'll never see each other again, will we?" Darcy finished for her.

"I think our story has come to its logical conclusion, don't you?" The Italian smiled softly. "I've enjoyed our time together but everything has to end sooner or later. Every story. Better to finish it on a high, don't you think?"

"Perhaps." he conceded sadly, he would miss her. It hit him then just how important the woman standing over him had been to him. This incredible woman who he had met only a handful of times in his life. It was strange how that could happen, how someone so fleeting could shape you into something different. Because of her, he'd been a better grifter, always seeking to impress, always seeking validation. He owed his career to her.

"Was it worth it?" he asked, knowing it would be his last chance, knowing the sheer weight behind the question. "What we do, grifting. Living like this. Is it worth it?"

She laughed loud and long again, that magnificent sound that held so much.

"Of course not," she started to walk away, her voice fading as she began to disappear into the world forever. "But be honest with yourself, would you have done it any other way?"

He wouldn't.

He was a grifter

Or at least he used to be.

Maybe he would be again.

But for now he packed up his desk, put it into boxes, knocked out the lights, locked the locks and left, back to the home that was finally his again.

AN - Cheers for reading and all that. I wanted this one to be a bit of an in depth look at Darcy as well as a reveal, hope it was ok. Let me know if you liked it, hated it, whatever.