The Sterling Group skyscraper was a graveyard of glass and steel. Nora stood in the shadow of the parking garage across the street, her eyes fixed on the crime scene tape fluttering against the revolving doors.
"You're hesitant," Caspian said, his voice a low rumble beside her. He was checking the magazine of his sidearm with a clinical efficiency that made Nora's stomach flip.
"I spent three years calling this place my second home, Caspian," Nora replied. "Every time I walked through those doors, I felt like I was lucky to be Mrs. Sterling. Now, I realize I was just walking into a gilded cage."
"Then let's go break the bars," Caspian said. He grabbed her hand, his grip firm. "The service hatch is in the sub-basement. We have a five-minute window between the patrol rotations. If we're caught, I can handle the guards, but I can't handle the Federal marshals. Stay behind me."
They moved through the darkness of the basement, their footsteps echoing on the damp concrete. When they reached the executive elevator, the space felt impossibly small.
"Nora," Caspian whispered as the lift groaned upward. He pressed her against the mirrored wall, his eyes searching hers. "If this SD card contains what Julian says it does, your life as you know it ends tonight. There is no going back to being 'Virtuous Nora.' You will be the woman who toppled an empire."
"Good," Nora whispered back, her breath hitching as he leaned in. "I never liked that woman anyway."
The elevator dinged. They stepped into Julian's office. Nora grabbed the gold Entrepreneur of the Year trophy from the plinth.
"The base," she muttered, her fingers fumbling with the catch. "Julian said it was in the base."
Click. The bottom of the trophy fell away, revealing the brass keys and the micro-SD card. But before she could celebrate, a flashlight beam swept across the frosted glass door.
"Freeze! Who's there?" a voice shouted.
Caspian didn't hesitate. He tackled Nora behind the heavy mahogany desk. "Stay down," he hissed.
They huddled in the cramped space, their bodies pressed together. Nora could hear the guards' boots thudding on the carpet. She could feel the heat radiating from Caspian, the scent of his sandalwood cologne mixing with the smell of old paper and adrenaline.
"I'll draw them out," Caspian whispered, his lips grazing her ear. "When I move, you run for the emergency stairs."
"No," Nora gripped his arm. "We go together."
The guards lingered, their voices muffled. "Must have been a ghost," one laughed. "This place is full of 'em lately."
As the footsteps faded, Caspian didn't let go. He turned her around, his hand sliding into her hair. The danger hadn't passed, but the tension in the room had shifted from fear to something primal. He kissed her—a hard, demanding seal of their alliance—before pulling her toward the exit.