The papers were signed. Champagne was poured. Stein’s US$ 5 million wire was confirmed. The Panthers exchanged a microscopic glance of victory.
As the cops led the screaming Stein away, the officer paused at the door. He looked back at the three women, frozen in their designer suits. "The Cidade Maravilhosa doesn't care if you're a kingpin or a panther," he said softly. "Eventually, the hill eats everyone. My advice? Take the loss. Leave the city tonight. Or next time, we come for all of you."
Suellen’s heart stopped. Karine’s finger inched toward a keyboard shortcut that would erase everything.
Stein froze. The Panthers held their breath. As Panteras 171 Na Cidade Maravilhosa
Their plan was perfect. A classic con do café com leite —fake sale, fake documents, a briefcase full of counterfeit serial numbers, and a wire transfer to a dummy Cayman account.
"No," Suellen said, pulling off her wig. "Not gone. We still have the real estate codes to Stein's empty shell companies. And a cop who just looked the other way." She turned, her eyes glittering like the sea below. "We don't need his money. We need his access . This city didn't eat us tonight, girls. It just gave us a better menu."
They called themselves As Panteras 171 —Panthers, for their grace and lethality; 171, the Brazilian penal code for fraud, their true art form. The papers were signed
Suellen looked out the window. The sun had set. The Christ statue was a dark silhouette against a bruised purple sky. The lights of the favelas began to twinkle—dangerous, beautiful stars.
He picked up Stein’s briefcase of cash—the Panthers’ original commission. "This is evidence now."
Suellen, the strategist, adjusted her stiletto. "The mark is Leo Stein, real estate mogul. He thinks he's buying a private island in Angra. We’re the escrow company." The Panthers exchanged a microscopic glance of victory
Two men in dark blazers stepped out. Federal Police. Their badges were real. Their faces were grim.
Karine, the tech whiz, tapped her tablet. "I cloned his secretary’s number. He just got a text confirming the meeting at the Copacabana Palace."
Then the elevator dinged.
The officer turned to them. "And you three…" He picked up one of the fake deeds. His eyes were sharp, tired. "This is very good. Swiss bond forgery, 2024 watermarks. Almost undetectable."
Bárbara laughed, low and dangerous. "So we stay?"