Getting into the charity ball is nothing close to a problem for Max. He drives himself there in the Lamborghini he's borrowed from Yunho, one of the few thieves working at CS that he actually doesn't mind.

The valet bows and Max coolly hands him the keys without a backwards glance. He walks down the dark red carpet that's been laid out, keeping a careful eye out for Gyuri. A woman behind a stand at the entrance asks for his invitation. Max gives her his most charming smile as he hands her the invitation he fabricated earlier.

He is waved through and a moment later, he is standing at the top of a marble staircase. It overlooks an opulent lower floor that resembles an extravagant casino, with its rich carpet and huge chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. People in fine dress are socialising in clusters on the lower floor and a bar running along one side of the room caters to the evening's lonelier patrons.

Max begins to make his way down the stairs so as not to draw more attention to himself from the stairs, where everyone can see him. Being a charity ball, the room is studded with wealthy figures; some he recognises, some he doesn't. Here and there he spots an heiress, but she's never the one he's looking for.

He can feel countless pairs of eyes glued on him as he strides through the room. At 6 foot 2, in a slim cut suit, many women regard him with interest as he passes. Max knows women well enough to know that each woman in the room's interest in him is fuelled by different motives and desires; some of them are interested in his money and some in his status, though some just want .

 Max both pities and is envious of their ignorance. None of them would ever have guessed who he really is, and rightfully so. There's a reason why T.O.P's thieves are the best in the industry. CS is unlike many other organisations, most of which don't train their thieves to think like spies and move like shadows, or be able to talk in silky tones to persuade even the most stubborn person. But at the same time, Max thinks that if he had the chance to be one of those who didn't even consider the possibility of trained, professional spy-like thieves, he would take it.

A woman carrying a silver tray offers him a drink. He's about to take one when he catches sight of the server's face. Max does a double take and almost forgets to keep his facial expression in check. "Nana?" he whispers in disbelief.

Nana winks at him. She's wearing the same short, sparkly dress as the rest of the other servers and if he didn't know her, she would have fit in perfectly. "Hey there, Max."

"Do you have a job here tonight, too?" he asks. It's a risky move, especially when so many people are present, but his question is innocent enough not to incite a curious response from anyone passing by.

Nana nods, looking him up and down with envy plain on her face. "You've got it easy," she says, eyeing his suit. "It's hard to get any information when I have to walk around the room with people barking at me to get them their stupid drinks." She makes a face. "Peasants."

Max chuckles. He and Nana trained together and he thinks of her as a good friend. He wants to stick around and talk for a little bit longer, but he knows he's talked to her for longer than he should have and should not have acknowledged her in