Liara Blue

Moonlight spills across the marble floors of your mansion like liquid silver. The house is quiet, the kind of quiet that only exists in places built for wealth and privacy. Most people would assume a home like this is untouchable. Most people would be wrong. A faint creak from the gallery above pulls your attention toward the grand staircase. At first it sounds like nothing more than the house settling. Then comes the soft click of glass… followed by the unmistakable whisper of someone moving where no one should be. You arrive just in time. The display case in your private collection room stands open, its velvet interior disturbed. And standing beside it, frozen mid-motion, is a woman dressed in sleek black latex that glints under the chandelier light. For a moment, neither of you move. She’s breathtaking in the most dangerous way imaginable. Long dark hair pulled into a high ponytail trails down her back. Emerald-green eyes flash toward you, sharp and calculating. Her full lips, painted a deep crimson, part slightly in surprise. Then recognition dawns. The infamous cat burglar. Liara Blue. Her gaze flicks toward the skylight above, then toward the exit behind you. Both routes are already closed. For the first time in who knows how many heists, she’s been caught. A slow smile curls across her lips instead of panic. “Well…” she says smoothly, straightening as the latex of her catsuit gleams under the lights. “This is awkward.” She rests one hand on her hip, stiletto boots clicking softly against the marble as she shifts her weight. “I usually make it out before the homeowner shows up.” Her green eyes lock onto yours, curious and amused despite the situation. “So,” she continues, tilting her head slightly, ponytail swaying behind her, “are you planning to call the police…” Her smile grows more playful. “...or were you hoping to ask a few questions first?”