Chapter Fifty-Six: Breaking and Entering

Victoria's penthouse occupied the entire top floor of a building that probably cost more than some countries' yearly budgets.

I stared up at the gleaming windows fifty stories above street level, my stomach churning with nerves. "I can't believe we're doing this."

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Dominic muttered, checking his watch for the third time in five minutes. "Do you know how long it's been since I've had to actually sneak around?"

"Since never?"

"Since never." He almost looked excited about it, which was both reassuring and slightly terrifying. "My lawyers usually handle the illegal stuff."

Jules appeared beside us, having finished her perimeter check. "Building security is standard. Two guards in the lobby, cameras on every floor, but nothing we can't handle." She handed Dominic a small device. "This will loop the hallway footage for twenty minutes. After that, you're on your own."

"Twenty minutes should be plenty," I said, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt.

"Should be," Dominic agreed. "Assuming Sana's layout is accurate."

We'd spent the last two hours going over Sana's hastily drawn map of the penthouse. Master bedroom on the east side, living room with floor-to-ceiling windows facing south, and Victoria's private study on the north wall where the safe was hidden behind a painting of some long-dead Van Alston ancestor.

"She seemed pretty sure about the safe's location," I said.

"She also seemed pretty nervous about her mother finding out she was helping us," Jules pointed out. "What if this is a setup?"

"Then we deal with it." Dominic's voice carried the kind of calm certainty that came from handling impossible situations on a regular basis. "But I don't think it is. That girl was genuinely scared of what her mother might do."

"Scared enough to betray family?"

"Sometimes betraying family is the right thing to do," I said quietly.

Jules studied my face for a moment, then nodded. "Fair enough. Just... be careful up there. Both of you."

The service elevator that Sana had told us about was exactly where she'd said it would be, tucked behind the main lobby in a corridor marked 'Authorized Personnel Only.' Dominic's security device worked perfectly—the camera above the elevator door suddenly developed a case of selective blindness.

"I feel like a teenager sneaking out," Dominic said as we rode up to the fiftieth floor.

"Did you ever actually sneak out as a teenager?"

"Are you kidding? I had bodyguards from the time I was twelve. The most rebellious thing I did was order pizza without permission."

Despite my nerves, I found myself smiling. "Wild child."

"I was a very disappointing rich kid. No drugs, no parties, no dramatic arrests that required expensive lawyers to fix."

"How boring of you."

"I thought so too. Maybe that's why this feels..." He paused, searching for the word.

"Terrifying?"

"Fun."

The elevator dinged softly at the fiftieth floor, and we stepped out into a hallway that looked like it had been designed by angels with unlimited budgets. Cream-colored walls, artwork that probably belonged in museums, and carpet so thick I could feel my heels sinking into it.

Victoria's penthouse door was at the end of the hall, marked with a simple brass nameplate that somehow managed to look both elegant and intimidating.

"Moment of truth," Dominic said, pulling out the key card Sana had given us.

My heart was pounding so hard I was surprised it wasn't echoing off the walls. "What if the locks have been changed?"

"Then we improvise."

The card slid into the reader with a soft beep, and the lock clicked open.

"I love it when plans actually work," Dominic said.

Victoria's penthouse was even more impressive than I'd expected. The living room was the size of most people's entire apartments, with windows that offered a view of Manhattan that made me feel like I was floating above the city. Everything was decorated in shades of cream and gold, elegant without being flashy, expensive without being obvious about it.

"This way," I whispered, following Sana's map toward the study.

"Why are we whispering?" Dominic asked in a normal voice. "There's no one here."

"Because it feels like there should be whispering when you're breaking into someone's house."

"We're not breaking in. We have a key."

"We're definitely breaking in."

The study was smaller than the living room but somehow felt more important. Books lined three walls from floor to ceiling, and a massive mahogany desk dominated the center of the space. But it was the fourth wall that caught my attention—covered with portraits of Van Alston family members going back what looked like centuries.

"There," I said, pointing to a painting of a stern-looking woman in Victorian dress. "Sana said the safe is behind the third portrait from the left."

Dominic moved to the painting and carefully lifted it away from the wall. Behind it was a wall safe that looked like it could withstand a nuclear blast.

"Digital lock," he observed. "Good thing we have the combination."

I stepped closer, my hands shaking slightly as I reached for the keypad. "October fifteenth. But what year?"

"Try her mother's birth year first."

I entered the numbers slowly: 10-15-1962.

The safe beeped once and stayed locked.

"Wrong year," Dominic said, moving closer behind me. So close I could feel his breath on my neck, could smell that intoxicating blend of cedar and danger that always made my pulse race.

"What about the year Victoria was born?" His voice was lower now, rougher.

I tried 1952, my hands trembling as his presence behind me made concentration nearly impossible. Still nothing.

"The year Victoria's mother died?" I suggested, though my voice came out breathier than intended.

"Try the year you were born," Dominic said quietly, his chest almost touching my back now.

I could barely think with him so close, could barely focus on anything except the heat radiating from his body. My fingers fumbled on the keypad: 1998.

The lock beeped twice and clicked open.

"She used my birth year," I whispered, but as I turned to share the moment with him, I found myself trapped between his body and the safe.

His dark eyes were fixed on my face with an intensity that made my knees weak. "Scarlett," he said, my name coming out like a prayer.

"We should..." I started, but couldn't finish the thought. Not when he was looking at me like that.

"Should what?" His hand came up to cup my face, thumb tracing my cheek with devastating gentleness.

"Get the documents," I managed, but I was already leaning into his touch.

"In a second." His other hand braced against the wall beside my head, effectively caging me in. "Do you have any idea how incredible you are?"

"Dominic—"

"Breaking into buildings, facing down corporate sharks, fighting for what's yours." His voice dropped to that tone that made liquid heat pool in my belly. "You're magnificent."

I could feel my pulse hammering against my throat. "We don't have time for this."

"We have enough time for this," he murmured, his face moving closer to mine.

The space between us crackled with electricity. I could see every fleck of gold in his dark eyes, could feel every breath he took. When his thumb brushed across my lower lip, I gasped.

"I've been wanting to do this since I watched you destroy those lawyers," he said.

"Do what?" But I already knew. Could see it in the way his gaze dropped to my mouth.

Instead of answering, he leaned closer, so close that our lips were almost touching. Almost. The anticipation was killing me.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered against my mouth.

But I couldn't. Didn't want to. Instead, I reached up and fisted my hands in his shirt, pulling him closer.

He made a sound low in his throat, something between a groan and a growl, and I felt it vibrate through my entire body.

"Scarlett," he breathed, and then his mouth was almost on mine, so close I could taste his breath—

And every alarm in the building suddenly started screaming.

Inside the safe was a manila envelope thick with documents, a small jewelry box, and what looked like a letter addressed to "My Granddaughter."

I reached for the envelope with shaking hands—

And every alarm in the building suddenly started screaming.

Red lights flashed. Sirens wailed. The sound was so loud and sudden that I jumped backward, nearly knocking into Dominic.

"Shit," he said, grabbing the envelope and shoving it inside his jacket. "Someone knows we're here."

"How is that possible? Sana said—"

"Sana might have been wrong. Or someone might have been watching her." His voice was grim as he pulled out his phone. "Jules, we've got problems."

Through the chaos of alarms, I could hear her voice crackling through the speaker: "Security's mobilizing. You've got maybe two minutes before this place is crawling with guards."

"The service elevator?"

"Blocked. They've shut down all elevator access to the top floor."

"Stairs?"

"Also blocked. You're trapped."

Dominic's jaw clenched as he processed this information. Outside the study windows, I could see police cars arriving on the street below, their red and blue lights painting the building in emergency colors.

"There has to be another way out," I said, fighting down panic.

"There is," Dominic said grimly. "But you're not going to like it."

The alarms kept screaming around us, and somewhere in the building below, I could hear the thunder of boots on stairs as security forces made their way up to trap us.

We had Victoria's proof.

Now we just had to live long enough to use it.