The opportunity came wrapped in a routine delivery crate of wine and supplies for the mansion’s cellars. Elena had spent days observing the patterns: the guards’ shift changes, the service vans that slipped through the side gates with minimal checks during midday chaos. Her hidden phone had buzzed with Ghost’s final warning: Vault fragment at the old market stall. Move now or lose it forever. The search for Phoenix was tightening like a noose; Dante’s investigators had questioned her former nanny the day before. She couldn’t wait.
Heart hammering, Elena slipped into a plain servant’s uniform she had traded for favors with a sympathetic maid. She braided her silver-streaked hair tightly under a cap, smeared dirt on her face, and joined the unloading crew as they moved between the van and t
