Chapter 15: The Masquerade
The Vanguard Tower stood like a monolith of dark glass against the twilight sky. Tonight, it was hosting the annual shareholders' gala—a masquerade ball where the city’s elite drank champagne while discussing hostile takeovers and proxy wars. It was the perfect cover.
Jane wore a stunning, backless crimson gown that clung to her frame, concealing the ceramic-plated throwing knives strapped to her thighs. A black lace domino mask covered the upper half of her face. Marcus played the role of her wealthy European escort, tuxedoed and armed to the teeth under his tailored jacket.
They bypassed the initial security checkpoints with forged credentials. The grand ballroom was a sea of silk, velvet, and classical music. Jane glided through the crowd, her heart beating a slow, methodical rhythm.
She spotted him near the ice sculpture. Her father. Richard Sterling. He looked older, tired, but his eyes retained that ruthless, calculating glint. He was speaking to a senator, a polite smile plastered on his face.
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Jane felt a sudden, violent urge to walk up and drive a knife into his throat. But Marcus’s hand clamped down on the small of her back. "Stick to the plan, Jane. The basement."
She tore her eyes away from the man who had ruined her life and headed toward the restricted service elevators.
