Chapter 5 - THE EMBASSY HEISTThe armored minivan tore through the rainy streets of Chicago, blending seamlessly into the night traffic. Katya drove with icy precision, constantly checking her rearview mirrors for any sign of tailing vehicles.
In the back seat, Eli had finally fallen asleep, exhausted from the horror of the night. I wrapped my coat around him, cradling his head against my thigh.
"Where are we going?" I asked, looking out at the glittering neon lights of the city skyline.
"The First National Bank on 5th Street is surrounded," Katya said grimly. "Victor's men tapped the police bands. The moment Vance's panic room was breached, Victor put an APB out on you. You're officially wanted for the murder of Daniel Vale and the kidnapping of your own son."
"What?!" My heart hammered against my ribs. "They're framing me already?!"
"Victor controls the Chief of Police," Vance explained, typing frantically on a encrypted laptop. "He’s claiming you poisoned Daniel to get his inheritance, and when Marjorie tried to stop you tonight, you hired mercenaries to attack the estate."
"That sick, twisted son of a bitch!" I growled, my fingers digging into the leather seats. "What about the bank vault? If the police are watching it, I can't get inside to use the key!"
"We don't need to break into the bank," Vance said, turning the laptop screen toward me. "Because Daniel knew Victor would compromise local banks. Three months ago, Daniel transferred the contents of that safety deposit box to a neutral diplomatic pouch held at the Swiss Consulate downtown."
"The Swiss Consulate?" I frowned. "That's foreign territory. The Chicago police can't touch it."
"Exactly," Katya chimed in. "But neither can you, unless you have diplomatic authorization or a valid biometric match. Victor knows about the Swiss connection. He has men watching the diplomatic compound right now. The moment you step near that building, a sniper will put a bullet through your head before you ever reach the front desk."
"So how do we get inside?" I demanded.
Katya smirked in the rearview mirror, her eyes gleaming with dangerous mischief. "We don't go through the front door. We crash the Ambassador's annual charity gala tonight."
Ten minutes later, we pulled into the subterranean parking garage of a high-end luxury hotel two blocks from the Consulate. Katya popped the trunk, revealing racks of expensive evening gowns, sharp suits, fake IDs, and tactical gear.
"You have twenty minutes to look like a billionaire widow who belongs on a red carpet," Katya said, throwing an emerald-green silk dress at me. "Vance forged high-society gala invitations under the names of Baroness and Baron von Bern. We use the underground pedestrian tunnel connecting the hotel to the Consulate."
I stared at the luxurious green dress. Just hours ago, I was wearing a black funeral dress, throwing dirt onto my husband's casket. Now, I was disguising myself as nobility to pull off a diplomatic heist.
I changed quickly in the back of the van, tying my hair up into a sophisticated bun, while Katya skillfully applied makeup to hide the dark circles of exhaustion and grief under my eyes. She handed me a pair of diamond-encrusted ear cuffs.
"These aren't jewels," Katya whispered, fitting one into my ear. "It's an encrypted comms link and a micro-camera. Vance will be monitoring your feed from the van."
"What about Eli?" I asked, panic surging as I looked at my sleeping son. "I can't leave him!"
"Eli stays with me in the armored van," Katya said gently, her harsh expression softening. "I swear to you on my life, Lena, no one gets to him while I'm breathing."
I looked at Vance, who was adjusting a crisp black tuxedo. He nodded reassuringly. "Trust her, Lena. She's killed six men for less than what Victor Vale did."
I kissed Eli's forehead, whispering a silent prayer, and stepped out of the van.
Ten minutes later, Vance and I were walking through the marble corridors of the Swiss Consulate's subterranean grand hall. Classical violin music echoed off high ceilings, filled with hundreds of foreign diplomats, politicians, and ultra-wealthy elites drinking champagne.
"Keep your head up, Lena," Vance whispered beside me, holding out his arm. "Act like you own the room."
We glided through the crowd, approaching the private elevator leading to the diplomatic vault level. But as we got closer, my breath hitched.
Standing near the elevator doors, sipping a martini and chatting casually with the Swiss Ambassador, was Grant Vale.
He was wearing a tuxedo, looking entirely unfazed by the fact that hours earlier he had tried to ruin my life.
"Arthur..." I whispered, pulling my face behind a champagne flute. "Grant is here."
"Damn it," Vance cursed under his breath. "Victor sent him to claim the vault using a forged court order."
"He doesn't have the key," I said, my hand clutching the velvet ribbon beneath my silk dress. "And he doesn't have Daniel's biometric code."
"He doesn't need them if the Ambassador signs off on a court override," Vance warned. "We have to stop him before he reaches the vault."
Suddenly, Grant turned his head. His eyes scanned the room, sweeping right past the crowd—and landing directly on me.
May you like
His martini glass froze halfway to his lips. His eyes widened in shock.
He recognized me.
