MISTRESS OF THE GAME
The living room now gleamed with elegance: deep grey suede couches, polished wooden floors, a ceiling-to-floor glass wall that looked out over the ocean.
Each room was clean, precise. The master’s balcony offered a sweeping view of the water. The safe opened with my palm and retinal scan, just as designed. Hidden. Untouchable.
The underground room was the crown jewel. The narrow passageway descended beneath the house like a secret artery. The chamber at the end was cold and hollow, its silence heavy. Reinforced walls, soundproofing layers, a singular air duct system. I had a control panel installed at the door, one command could lock it down entirely.
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