Chapter 33: The Van Outside Chelsea
The elevator ride down felt endless. Bella stood beside me, arms crossed tight over her chest, staring at the numbers ticking lower like they owed her something. When the doors finally opened in the garage, Marcus was already waiting next to the black van, back doors open, engine running low and quiet.
He handed me a tablet without a word. The screen showed live feed from the directional mic across the street—grainy but clear enough. Voss sat at a low table in the back room of the club, nursing a scotch. The IT guy—mid-thirties, nervous twitch in his left eye—was already there, laptop open between them.
Bella climbed in first. I followed, pulling the doors shut behind us. The inside smelled like coffee and electronics. Lydia’s voice came through the s
