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In Rieva’s line of work it was always best to assume that one was always being watched. You never knew who could be sneaking up and checking in on you; officers, thieves, nosey neighbors. The possibilities were endless, so it was best to cover your ass. That started with a good security system and a secret basement that no one aside from her knew about. Not even her closest colleague. Never trust anyone but yourself, that was her code, and she stuck by it. Rieva was working in the basement when she heard sounds coming from upstairs. Nothing incredibly loud, but noticeable enough for someone used to the sounds of light pitter-patter on wood flooring. How curious she thought as she gently set down the painting she’d been wrapping up, closing it safely in her safe. She was wise with her safes, opting for the blending-in approach in the hope that people would overlook it, and many did. There were a lot of naive fools who called themselves ‘thieves’ these days. With the merchandise safe, Rieva made her way up the stairs, hand hovering over the pistol on her hip as she listened through the wall. Definitely footsteps, though not close. She felt she could safely slip out of the stairwell without being seen. Though waiting was a good option, just to see if they were clever enough to see past the bookshelf ruse, seeing the look on their face when they realized they weren’t alone would be priceless, she was sure. So she stepped out, quietly closing the bookshelf behind her, and crept her way toward where she thought the person was. ”If you’d like to see the art, you’ll have to come back during business hours”. The words slipped past her lips in a mostly professional way, though the sassy ‘I just caught you’ sass was definitely lingering in the air. She was ever vigilant of the person, eyes scanning for any potential others who could be around so she didn’t end up in a trap of her own.