Chapter Fifty-Seven: Papers in the Wind

The alarms shattered the moment like glass, leaving us both breathless and disoriented.

Dominic pulled back, his face a mask of frustration and fury. "Damn it."

I grabbed the envelope from the safe with shaking hands, my lips still tingling from what had almost happened. "What's the escape plan you mentioned?"

"Service tunnels," he said, already moving toward the study door. "Most buildings this old have maintenance corridors between floors. We go down instead of up."

"Down where?"

"The parking garage. Jules can meet us there." He paused at the door, listening to the thunder of boots getting closer. "But we have to move now."

We slipped out of the study and down the hallway, the envelope clutched against my chest like a lifeline. The alarms were even louder out here, echoing off the walls and making it impossible to think clearly.

"There," Dominic said, pointing to a narrow door marked 'Maintenance Access.' "That should connect to the service areas."

The door opened onto a cramped stairwell that looked like it hadn't been used in years. Dust motes danced in the emergency lighting, and the air smelled stale and forgotten.

"Down," Dominic said, taking my hand and guiding me carefully down the metal steps. "Watch your footing."

My heels weren't exactly designed for sneaking through maintenance tunnels, but I didn't have time to complain. Behind us, I could hear voices in the hallway—security guards spreading out to search the penthouse.

"They're in the building," someone shouted. "Seal all exits!"

We were three floors down when Dominic's phone buzzed with a text from Jules: Garage compromised. They have dogs.

"Shit," he muttered, showing me the message.

"Dogs?"

"Security dogs. Trained to track." He looked around the narrow stairwell like he was calculating impossible odds. "We need another way out."

"What about the roof?"

"Too exposed. And you're..." He gestured vaguely at my stomach.

"Pregnant, not an invalid," I said, but I appreciated that he was thinking about the baby's safety.

"Sub-basement," he said suddenly. "These old buildings connect to the subway tunnels for emergency evacuation. If we can get low enough..."

We kept descending, floor after floor, my legs starting to ache from the unfamiliar exercise. The envelope felt heavier with each step, like it was absorbing the weight of everything we were risking to get it.

"Almost there," Dominic said as we reached what looked like the bottom of the stairwell.

That's when we heard them above us.

"Movement in stairwell C," a voice crackled through a radio. "Sending units down."

"How did they know?" I whispered.

"Motion sensors," Dominic said grimly. "The kind that detect body heat."

The door at the bottom of the stairwell opened onto a concrete corridor that stretched into darkness. Pipes ran along the ceiling, and the air was thick with the smell of machinery and old water.

"This way," Dominic said, pulling out his phone's flashlight.

We hurried down the corridor, our footsteps echoing despite our attempts to be quiet. Behind us, I could hear the stairwell door bang open and the sound of multiple sets of boots hitting concrete.

"There," Dominic said, pointing to a grate in the wall about chest-high. "That should lead to the storm drains."

He pulled at the grate, but it was secured with screws that looked like they hadn't been touched in decades.

"Stand back," he said, then kicked at the grate with enough force to shake the entire wall.

On the third kick, the screws gave way and the grate crashed to the floor with a sound like thunder.

"Ladies first," he said, helping me up toward the opening.

The tunnel beyond was narrow and smelled like rain and city grime, but it was our only option. I crawled through, trying not to think about what I might be crawling through, and dropped down into a larger tunnel on the other side.

Dominic followed, landing beside me with surprising grace for such a large man.

"Which way?" I asked, looking down tunnels that stretched in both directions.

"East," he said. "Toward the river. Jules can pick us up at the access point near—"

"Stop right there!"

The voice came from behind us, amplified by a megaphone. Flashlight beams cut through the darkness, at least six of them, all pointed in our direction.

"You are trespassing on private property," the voice continued. "Put your hands up and surrender the stolen documents."

Dominic stepped in front of me, his body blocking me from the security team's view. "Run," he said quietly.

"Not without you."

"I'll be right behind you. Go."

I turned and ran down the tunnel, clutching the envelope against my chest. Behind me, I could hear Dominic's voice, calm and authoritative: "Gentlemen, I think there's been a misunderstanding."

The tunnel was longer than I'd expected, and my heels kept slipping on the wet concrete. My chest was burning, my legs were shaking, and the baby was making its displeasure known with sharp kicks against my ribs.

That's when I heard the sound that made my blood freeze.

Barking.

They'd brought the dogs down here.

I pushed myself harder, following the tunnel as it curved toward what I hoped was an exit. The envelope was getting slippery from my sweating palms, and I had to keep adjusting my grip to make sure I didn't drop it.

Behind me, the barking was getting closer.

The tunnel ended at a metal ladder leading up to what looked like a street-level grate. I could see slivers of daylight filtering through, could hear the distant sound of traffic.

Freedom.

I shoved the envelope between my teeth and started climbing, my hands shaking so badly I could barely grip the rungs. The metal was slick with condensation and years of grime, and my heels kept slipping.

Halfway up, disaster struck.

The envelope, weakened by moisture and my desperate grip, began to tear.

"No," I mumbled around the paper in my mouth, but it was too late.

The envelope split open, and papers began fluttering down into the tunnel like snow. Birth certificates, DNA test results, hospital records—all the proof of my identity scattered across the tunnel floor.

I lunged backward, trying to catch them, but gravity and panic worked against me.

The dogs reached the bottom of the tunnel just as the last of the documents settled onto the wet concrete.

I hung there on the ladder, watching twenty-six years of stolen identity and billions of dollars in inheritance evidence getting trampled by security boots and slobbered on by German Shepherds.

Above me, the street grate was so close I could touch it.

Below me, my entire future was dissolving into illegible pulp.

And somewhere in the darkness behind me, I couldn't hear Dominic's voice anymore.