His men shift restlessly behind us. I hear the clicks of their safeties disengaging.
Hands trembling, I press the alarm sequence only my family knows, then hit enter.
Please let someone see the code red. Anyone but him.
The first lock flashes green. Then the palm scan shows up.
Elias places my hand gently on the scanner. Like he wasn’t threatening me seconds ago.
His touch is careful, almost protective, and the twisted tenderness makes my skin crawl.
Beep.The lock disengages.
Finally, the retinal scan.
Nausea churns as I lean in, my ears perked and listening for footsteps, anything to indicate someone got my secret code red message.
Nothing.
A third beep and the door opens.
The men whisper something in the same foreign language.
The blond one says, “Hurry, woman.”
“Quiet,” Elias snaps at them. His lips brush my ear. “Inside. Ladies first.”
Ignoring the tremors in my body, I straighten, head held high, and step into the vault.
Sterile light reflects off the rows of lockboxes. My legs shake as I approach the box in the far-right corner.
My box.
There are family jewels. Some letters.
Nothing worth betraying the Anderson family for.
Footsteps reach my ears. Help is here. My heart jolts, then deflates when a thin, unfamiliar, older man in a black suit walks inside the vault.
Notsecurity.
“Right on time,” he murmurs, checking his watch. He takes out a notebook, a fountain pen, and jots something down.
“Who are you?” Elias rasps.
The man smiles. “You can call me the Scheduler. I handle the logistics for the Rites. You passed your first test.” He nods and retreats. “Continue on.”
Rites? The room shrinks. I think I’m going to be sick. This isn’t a robbery. It’s a fucked-up ritual. And I’m standing in the middle of it.
Silence reigns for a beat after the man leaves.
“Unlock it now.” Elias pushes me forward. “Quickly, Lana.”
Taking a deep breath, I press my thumb against the last sensor. The box pops out. Elias grabs it and takes it to the nearby table, the thugs hovering nearby.
Sweat beads on my forehead, and my legs shake. I grip the table for support. I need to stay strong—I can’t panic now.
His men fidget and pace, their eyes darting toward the exit. Their guns are steady in their hands.
