Page 51 of Seal My Fate

Tessa

Ipanic. “It’s not done copying yet!”

Saint and I look at each other in horror. So much for the VIP tour cover story; if someone walks in and finds us here with a hard drive plugged in and the download in progress, they’ll catch us red-handed.

Goodbye, proof of fraud and corruption. Hello, trespassing and theft charges—if we’re lucky.

And if we’re not…

Saint curses under his breath, as I creep to the door. “Tessa,” he whispers sharply. “Get away from there!”

But I crack the door open an inch, and peer out to see who’s coming. Maybe we’ll strike it lucky, and it’s just one of the lab workers from before, here to grab something from her desk and then head out again. Maybe—

The footsteps come closer, and my hopes are cut short.

It’s a security guard. A stern old-timer, with his radio in one hand, and the other resting on his holster. He’s looking around, peering into every doorway and corner.

“… You sure it was down here?” he’s saying into his radio. “Yeah, I’ll do a full sweep. Every door.”

Fuck.

I watch as the guard checks the nearest office, stepping inside, and flipping the lights on. Saint joins me, quickly assessing the situation. “What are we going to do?” I whisper. “There’s no other way out, and we have to get the files. We have nothing without them. No proof at all.”

He nods, looking grim. “Stay here,” he orders me.

“What?” I blink. “Where are you going? Saint—”

He steps out of Phillip’s office before I can stop him, leaving me stranded there, hiding behind the door watching with my heart in my throat as he makes his way across the lab.

The guard emerges from another office, and stops, startled to see him.

“Evening,” Saint greets him casually, and I almost stop breathing.

What the hell is he doing?

“Who are you?” the guard demands, placing a hand on his holster. “This is a restricted area. I’m going to need to see your security pass.”

“My pass?” Saint echoes, his voice amused. “Well, I suppose, if I must…” he reaches into his jacket and pulls out his wallet, flipping through. “Which would you prefer: My membership to the Century club? The keycard to my family’s private suite at the Savoy? The onyx Amex, that one’s a beauty, eh? Only ten in the entire country, at least since the sanctions kicked in and those Ruskies fled for greener pastures,” he adds, in the rich, droll tones of a wealthy jackass.

I gulp a breath. He’s bluffing it, playing up the Ashford heir angle. I cross my fingers and pray the act works.

The guard looks at him, unimpressed. “I meant, your pass for this laboratory. If you’re trespassing…”

“My good man,” Saint gives a chortle of laughter, “How could I be trespassing, when my family owns the damn building? Now, what was your name?”

“Uh, Richards, sir,” the man says, looking flustered now.

“Richards. Fine name. Thing is, I’m down here on official business. Top secret, above your pay grade.” Saint pats his shoulder and turns him back the way he came. “So it would be best if you just run along now the way you came, and forget you even saw me.”

He guides him another few steps towards the door, and Richards almost goes too… But at the last minute, he stops and folds his arms. “I’m sorry, sir, but I was told to run a full sweep of the floor. If you don’t mind waiting, I’ll call up to the main office, and see about this project of yours.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Saint says quickly, his casual act slipping.

“Best to be on the safe side, eh Mr. St. Clair? We’ll just get this all straightened out—”

Fuck.

I look around wildly. The files are still downloading. 92%. We’re so close!

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