"I’m fine," I whisper back, keeping my head down. "Just want this over."
"Soon." He slides the fresh tray toward me. His hand brushes mine on the cold metal. It’s a fleeting touch, barely a second, but his fingers squeeze mine quick and hard, possessive, grounding. "You look... small in that wig."
"That’s the point."
"I hate it," he growls softly. "I want to burn it when all this is over."
"Later," I promise.
"Go. Graves is moving."
I risk a glance. The head of security is moving away from the service entrance, holding his hand to his ear. He’s heading toward the front, likely to check out the new VIP, Julian Vane.
"Marcus is drawing the heat," Damon says in my ear. "The corridor is clear in ten seconds. Demi, move to position."
I grab the tray. "Moving."
I shuffle away from the bar, weaving through the crowd. I don't look at Andre again, but I can feel his eyes on my back, a heavy, protective weight as I make my way toward the side of the room, near the heavy velvet drapes that conceal the service entrance to the executive wing elevators and stairs.
On the dais, Marcus is leaning in close to Thorne, whispering something that makes her laugh, a harsh, barking sound. He has her locked down. She’s completely focused on him, her back to the room, her back to me.
"Mr. Vane suggests a private tour of the facilities to discuss a potential eight-figure donation," Damon narrates in my ear. "He’s trying to move her, but she’s not biting yet. She wants to do the auction first."
"I can't wait for the auction," I whisper. "I need to go now while Graves is distracted."
I wait with my tray for a few minutes but almost drop it when a woman’s high pitched voice screeches in outrage over the music quickly followed by the sound of a slap as flesh meets flesh. My head jerks in the direction it came from and I almost bark out a laugh as I see two women pulling each other’s hair as their male partners start yelling in each other's faces. My eyes slide past the melee to the bar behind them and bite hard at the smile wanting to form when Andre meets my gaze with an amused smirk.
Alright then, distraction accomplished.
"Window is open, the executive floor guard was just called down to help clear the mosh pit." Damon confirms with a small laugh. "Go. Now."
I check my surroundings. No one is looking at the mousy runner. I slip behind the velvet drape. The noise of the party cuts off instantly, replaced by the hum of the HVAC system and the quiet of the service corridor. I drop the Martha act instantly. My spine straightens. My stride lengthens. I ditch the tray of champagne on a side table. I don't need it where I’m going. I move fast, my rubber-soled shoes silent on the linoleum. I reach the service elevator and hit the button.
"Elevator feed is looped," Damon confirms. "You’re invisible."
The doors slide open and I step inside and punch the button for the second floor. My pulse is racing, but it’s a steady, powerful rhythm. I’m not the scared girl in the van anymore. I’mnot the grieving daughter. I’m the thief who is about to steal the heart of this corrupt empire.
When the elevator dings and the doors open, I step out into the empty, plush hallway of the executive wing just as the stairwell door bangs closed behind the guard.
"I’m in," I whisper with a smug smile.
"Copy," Andre replies. "I’ve got eyes on the ballroom. A very pissed off Thorne is still occupied with Marcus and the drama disrupting her party. Graves is sorting out the crowd around the fight, Graft hasn't moved from guarding the auction prizes."
"Marcus," I say. "Keep her talking. I need ten minutes."
"That reminds me of the time I capsized a yacht in Monaco," Marcus's voice comes back, light and breezy as he feeds a bullshit story to Thorne to keep her interest and I shake my head at the playboy story that’s pure bullshit.
I head down the hall toward the double doors at the end, past the now empty guard station and pull out the runner keycard Gary gave me. This is the moment of truth. If security flagged this card after they caught me yesterday...
I hold my breath and tap the card against the reader.
Beep.
The light turns green. The heavy magnetic lock disengages with a solid thunk and I let out a breath that shakes my entire frame.
"I’m accessing the office."
"Clear, confirm loop is active. You have the floor."
