“The vault’s been accessed.”
Dominic’s voice was low and steady, but the tension in his jaw betrayed how serious this was.
I stepped closer. “What do you mean accessed? I thought it was secure—underground, guarded, untraceable.”
“It was.” He turned the phone around. On the screen was a live feed: dim lighting, grainy black-and-white footage showing a shadowy figure moving through a narrow corridor—the corridor I’d walked with him the night before.
“Is that... live?” I whispered.
He nodded. “Motion detected five minutes ago.”
“Where is it coming from?”
“Estate cameras,” he replied. “Backup system—only triggered if the primary line is interrupted. Someone disabled the main surveillance.”
I turned cold. “So whoever this is… they know what they’re doing.”
“Very much so,” Dominic said
