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
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