“Let’s get that fucker,” I say, having re-found my courage and strength.
“If anyone can do it, it’s you, my little badass.”
This further demonstration of how much he trusts my abilities wins over whatever doubts might have been left in me. Iama badass. I can fucking do this. And I have the most intelligent and resourceful man I’ve ever met at my side, aiding me.
“Okay,” I start, adamant to stay away from gloomy thoughts, “I’ve been scrubbing an asshole’s penthouse all day. I think I want to lie down and let you give me the pillow princess treatment.”
“And I’d love nothing more than to indulge, Your Majesty.” I’m still chuckling by the time he carries me to our temporary bedroom.
Yes, I can do this. With Lex by my side, I could probably steal the fucking Mona Lisa if I wanted to. What’s a measly little laptop in comparison?
Andrea’s plan was, to my dislike, our best option. I wouldn’t have agreed to it had there been anything else, even if I know she’s capable of handling it. But she was right, since it allows her to roam freely into an extremely secure place, undetected.
Even knowing that she’s essentially made herself invisible, I’m a restless mess the whole time she’s away. I watch over her like a hawk through the security feed, and whenever she enters a room that has no cameras, I wait with bated breath for her to reappear. I’m losing years of life by the time I pick her up in the evenings, but it’s all worth it.
Or it would be if she could find that damn laptop. Whatever is on it, Becker must be terribly eager to hide it. It comforts me to know there’s a goldmine of dirt against him, something we could use to destroy him. On the condition that we find it.
On her second day there, Andrea, with the help of Paola, found the other three known safes. Together, we figured out their makers and models. That information makes hiring someone to break in easier. But that option opens a whole other door of potential complications, and I would rather we find a more straightforward alternative.
She feels just as defeated not to have found a hidden safe in the office, which allows me to suggest we call off the rest of her plan. But she refuses, arguing she has to do it so that she can tell herself she did everything she could. I do my best to distract her that evening, giving her the little comfort I can.
When she leaves on the third day, she doesn’t seem as enthusiastic as she did before, but her stubbornness pushes her to exit the car and walk up to the service door a couple of blocks away. As I’ve done the two days prior, I rush back to the apartment to begin my day of surveillance.
By the time I arrive, she’s already changed into her uniform and is heading toward the residence side of the penthouse. The day goes bylike the two previous ones. I watch her clean, talk with Paola and the other maids. It’s only late in the afternoon, nearly at the end of her shift, that she heads toward Becker’s office without Paola. Did she borrow the key? Shouldn’t her paired-up maid stay with her to warn her if anyone comes by, like they usually do?
Uneasy, I adjust my position in my seat. Whenever Andrea goes into that hallway, I’m in the dark.
I wait, as I always do, staring at the screen until she appears again. This is her last chance to find that safe, and she must realize that. Which is why she stays in there longer than she did the days before.
Still waiting for her to return, I notice some activity on another feed. The entry hall. No one has come through it since the Becker family left, so it immediately draws my attention.
Blood drains from my face as I recognize who just passed through the front door. He isn’t supposed to be here. Not for another few days. He’s supposed to be in Palm Springs with his wife and children. So why the fuck is Norman Becker in his New York penthouse, and why the fuck did I not see it coming?
I’m still trying to process that, as well as what I should do, when another feed claims my attention. The one that’s sitting at the separation door between the staff and the family. I’ve seen countless faces on it, people from cleaning, gardening, maintenance… But this face, I haven’t seen before. Or I have, but not through this camera. I would have recognized him otherwise. How could I not with the snake tattooed on it?
Horvat. He’s here. And so is Becker. Is this the reason the latter made a hasty return? To meet with his henchman?
Andrea… She’s in the office. What if they head there?
Shaking myself out of my panicked stupor, I open the window with the contingency plan I prepared, trip the electricity system, wait two seconds, and do it again. The lights on Andrea’s side will have flickered, and hopefully, she isn’t too lost in her search for the safe to have noticed it.
Or maybe she’s done looking and is already on her way out.
Fuck, if she comes across Horvat, he might recognize her. He’s seen her before, back when he tried to shoot me, and he must have done some recon on her since he went after her family.
Thinking through my terror is nearly impossible. I’ve felt useless for three days, but not to this extent. I’m a little under two miles from that building, but I feel as endangered as if I were there right now. Fuck, wish it were me instead of her. I’d give everything for it.
I watch with pure, absolute dread as both men meet in a hallway halfway between their entry points, and after some salutations, headtoward the office hallway. My heartbeat drums in my ears as I try to think of what I should do.
At this hour, it would take me at least twenty minutes to reach her by car. Under fifteen if I run there. Five minutes is already too long. But even if I get there, what the fuck do I do?! Break in? How? With what?
What if she’s coming out of the office? What if they cross her in the narrow hallway? What if Horvat recognizes her? I don’t even have footage to force them to release her. It’s all happening away from the CCTV.
I’m at a loss, completely helpless, desperate to find a solution, a way out that does not and cannot exist. It all rests on Andrea. And I can’t do shit to help her.
For the third time in eight months, she’s risking it all again, for me, for us.
I should never have let her go. This was a terrible idea. Why did I agree to it? Why didn’t I trust my gut that something like this would happen?!
