nna

replaced by the low hum of the building's ventilation and the muffled sound of our footsteps on the thick-piled carpet. We walked to the gr

rested a priceless diamond necklace, glittering under the harsh security lights. It was an asset

ther-bound ledger, a

tion document, Miss Gianna,"

gnature line, a cold certainty settled in my stomach. The line was not empty. A signature, rendered

ng moment, letting the audac

, my voice, when I spok

oked closer at the page and spotted a small note written in the mar

s like a gunshot in the small vault. "Pull up the digital

his face had taken on

ndicate privacy protocols forbid venue staff from sho

ping closer, my presence seeming to consume what little air remained in the vault. "Show me the sc

s massive frame backing

rest, almost casually, on the butt of his holster

inal. He typed in a password with shaking

he ballroom. There was a picture of the diamond necklace, brilliant and flawle

ey had stolen my family's asset and