The enforcer moved toward the door. Blocked it.
Dom stepped between me and Harrow. “We're leaving. Don't try to stop us.”
“I don't think so.” Harrow's voice was steel wrapped in silk. “Someone's been playing games. Someone's been stealing from me. And I want to know who.”
The door burst open. Four men in tactical gear. Faces covered. Weapons visible but not raised yet.
This had stopped being a trap we controlled. This was Harrow's counter-move. The ambush inside our ambush.
Dom's hand found mine. “Service exit. Behind the bar. Leads to the kitchens.”
We ran. Not subtle. Not quiet. Just fast. Dom clearing path with his body. I followed, cataloguing exits, tracking threats, navigating by the layout I'd memorised months ago.
Behind us, shouts. Footsteps. The sound of furniture overturning.
The service corridor was narrow. Dark. Dom knew it anyway. Pulled me through turns that would have disoriented anyone else. My memory filled in details his body couldn't communicate.
“Left here,” I said. “Then down. Fire exit at the bottom.”
We took the stairs three at a time. Burst through the fire door into an alley that smelled like rubbish and rain.
Adrian's car was waiting. Engine running. Noah at the wheel.
We dove into the back seat. Noah pulled out before the doors were fully closed.
Behind us, men emerged from Eden. Searching. But the car was already three blocks away and accelerating.
I pulled out the phone I'd stolen. Handed it to Adrian who sat in the passenger seat looking remarkably calm for someone whose club had just been invaded.
“Dmitri got everything,” Adrian said. “Logs, access trails, communications. And your bugs are still active. We'll hear every word Harrow says for the next two weeks.”
“Did the office team finish cracking the devices?” I asked.
“Yes. And they found something useful. A name. The clerk who sealed evidence in Lily's case.” Adrian turned to look at us. “Marcus Webb. Crown Court administrator. On Harrow's payroll for six years. Handles evidence suppression, witness intimidation coordination, and payment distribution.”
Dom's hand tightened on mine. “Where is he?”
“We're finding out now. But Cal's right about one thing.” Adrian's expression was grim. “Harrow's done playing. What just happened—the armed response, the attempted containment—that was escalation. Next time won't be intimidation. It'll be lethal.”
I leaned back against the seat. Still wearing the mask. Still half-dressed. Still processing the fact that we'd just executed a heist inside an orgy inside a trap and somehow survived.
Dom's arm wrapped around me. Pulled me against his side. I let him. Too exhausted and too wired simultaneously to maintain distance.
The car was silent except for the engine and London streets passing outside. Adrian sat in front, phone already pressed to his ear coordinating cleanup. Noah drove with focus that suggested he was deliberately not listening to whatever conversation might happen in the back seat.
Dom's hand found mine. Squeezed. I pulled away.
“Cal—”
“Not now.” My voice came out flat. Clinical. The investigator putting walls back up piece by piece. “We need to debrief. Catalogue what we got. Verify the devices are secure.”
“We will. But first we need to talk about what happened in there.”
“Nothing happened that wasn't part of the plan.”
“Bullshit.” Dom's voice was quiet. Controlled. But I heard the edge underneath. “You've been wound tight since we left Eden. Since before we left. Since Harrow?—”
“Since Harrow participated? Since he touched me? Since you kissed him?” The words came out harsher than intended. “Which part specifically are we talking about?”
