“I know. That's why this matters.” He stopped at the next junction.Listened. “Marcel's office is two corridors over. Finance gala runs until one. We've got thirty minutes.”
“Plenty of time.”
“Optimist.”
“Realist.”
We moved in sync. Dom covering angles while I watched our backs. The kind of synchronization that came from trusting someone with your life even when you'd only known them a few hours.
The corridor outside Marcel's office was empty. Quiet. The kind of quiet that felt wrong.
“Too easy,” Dom muttered.
“Maybe we're just good.”
“Or it's a trap.”
“Could be both.”
Dom knelt before Marcel's door. Pulled out his picks. “You're a lot like Viktor, you know that? Same paranoid optimism. Same stupid bravery.”
“I'll take that as a compliment.”
“It wasn't meant as one.” But he was smiling. “There. We're in.”
The office was exactly what I'd expected. Opulent. Cold. Immaculate. Dark wood paneling. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. A massive desk positioned to catch moonlight from tall windows.
Everything designed to project power. Control. Authority.
All of it a lie.
“Safe's behind the bookshelf,” I said, moving to the far wall. “I've seen him use it.”
“Can you crack it?”
I looked at him. “I've been breaking into palace offices since I was sixteen. His safe is a joke.”
“Then crack it. I'll watch the door.”
I pulled the bookshelf away. Found the safe exactly where I remembered. Old model. Combination lock. The kind that trusted metal more than code.
My fingers found the dial. Started turning. Listening. Feeling for the click that meant tumblers aligning.
First number. Second. Third.
Click.
The safe swung open.
Stacks of files. Sealed folders. Memory drives. All the evidence Marcel thought was hidden.
All the proof we needed.
My hands shook as I pulled them out. One by one. Financial records. Communication logs. Contracts signed in blood and sealed with lies.
Then I found it.
An envelope. Older than the rest. Marked with the royal crest.
