Chapter 7 - The Trap At Dawn
The city skyline appeared gray and bruised through the rain-streaked windows of the van as we crossed the bridge toward the Mori corporate headquarters. Inside the vehicle, the dim dashboard lights cast long shadows across Adrian's sharp jawline and the subtle stubble coating his clean-shaved face. He sat with the black leather ledgers open across his knees, his finger tracing columns of numbers while Vance kept his eyes fixed on the wet asphalt ahead.
"Marcus is going to try to secure the remaining accounts before the morning market opens at nine," Adrian said, his gaze shifting from the ledgers to meet my eyes in the rearview mirror. "He thinks we burned with the warehouse. That gives us a window of less than two hours to lock him out of the main server room."
"He'll be at the penthouse office tower," I said, sitting up straighter and adjusting the damp fabric of my ivory wedding gown around my shoulders. "That's where the primary financial terminal is located. He keeps his personal encryption keys in the wall safe behind the mahogany desk."
Adrian frowned, his dark eyebrows drawing together in a hard line. "I'm not leaving you in a secondary room while I handle Marcus. After tonight, you don't leave my side. We go into that tower together."
"I didn't survive my father's death and a fire at the docks just to sit in a corner, Adrian," I replied, my voice steady and unwavering as I held his gaze. "I know Marcus's access codes. My father made me memorize them when I joined the foundation board. You need me inside that room."
Adrian looked at me for a long, silent moment, the tension in his shoulders easing just fractionally as a slow, grim respect settled over his features. He reached out, his warm fingers wrapping firmly around my hand, squeezing it once before he turned back to Vance.
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"Pull into the underground executive bay," Adrian instructed, his voice low and uncompromising. "No security announcements. We take the private service elevator straight up to the seventy-fifth floor."
The van descended into the subterranean parking garage beneath the corporate tower, sliding into the shadows beneath the concrete pillars just as the digital clock on the dashboard clicked to 6:15 AM. The air down here was stagnant and cold, smelling of exhaust fumes and damp concrete. We stepped out into the quiet gloom, ready for the final confrontation.
