Chapter 36 - The Belly of the Beast
The First Commerce Bank was a fortress of polished granite and tinted glass in the heart of the financial district.
I wore a tailored dark trench coat, large sunglasses, and a silk scarf loosely tied around my hair. Beneath the coat, strapped securely against the small of my back, was a compact 9mm pistol Marco had handed me thirty minutes ago. *Only if the sky falls,* he had said. *Otherwise, let the ghost handle it.*
Through the tiny wireless earpiece hidden by my hair, Vincent’s voice was a low, steady rumble in my ear.
"Cameras are looped for the next four minutes," he said, speaking from the command van parked two blocks away. "Security guard at the bronze gate is named Peter. His wife had knee surgery last week—paid for by my private charitable foundation. Tell him you’re there for Box 404 on the Moretti executive ledger."
I took a deep breath, stepped out of the cab, and pushed through the heavy brass revolving doors.
The marble floor clicked beneath my heels. My heart was pounding like a trapped bird against my ribs, but my face remained carved from ice. I walked straight up to the security desk.
The guard, an older man with gray hair, looked up from his monitor.
"Good morning," I said smoothly, leaning slightly over the mahogany counter. "I’m here on behalf of Vincent Moretti. Box 404."
The guard stiffened. His eyes darted to my face, then down to the leather-bound guest ledger. A flicker of recognition and panic flashed across his eyes.
"Ma'am... Mr. Moretti's accounts were flagged thirty minutes ago," Peter whispered, his voice shaking. "Two men from Mr. Dante’s office are down in the vault right now. They're trying to force the manager to drill the lock."
In my ear, Vincent’s breath went dead silent.
"Claire," Vincent’s voice cut through the line, cold and lethal. "Turn around. Walk out immediately. We find another way."
I didn't turn around.
"Did they breach the box yet, Peter?" I asked calmly.
"No," Peter murmured, sweating profusely. "The vault requires dual biometric verification and the physical master key. The manager is stalling, but they have guns under their jackets."
"Peter," I said, my voice dropping to a cool, hypnotic cadence. "You like your pension, don't you? And your wife’s recovery is going well?"
Peter swallowed hard, nodding once.
"Buzz me through the security gate," I commanded. "And cut the power to the vault lights on my signal."
"Claire! Dammit, abort!" Vincent’s voice snarled through the comm, sharp with sheer terror for my life. "You do not face Dante’s hitmen alone!"
"I’m not alone," I whispered, tapping the earpiece once. "You're watching the security feed. Tell me where they're standing."
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The gate clicked open. I pushed through the heavy iron door into the private elevator corridor, my hand sliding beneath my trench coat to find the cold grip of the gun.
***
