Chloe walked the route on Wednesday evening exactly as instructed, a lanyard borrowed from a temp badge Viktor had quietly authorized clipped to her blazer, a takeout bag in one hand as cover in case anyone questioned why a member of the creative team was loitering near the executive elevator bank after hours.
Nobody questioned her. That was, she reflected, either a good sign for the plan or a genuinely alarming commentary on the building's security — though given that Viktor himself had approved the route, she suspected it was more the former.
She timed the elevator ride to the penthouse floor — ninety seconds, longer than she expected, the express car apparently slower than the ones serving the lower floors. She timed the walk from the elevator to Mark's door — thirty seconds at a norm
