Page 36 of Thunder

And then there's Antonio Mancini—the menacing head of security who was sent down by corporate just several days ago. I've seen how he operates, always vigilant about maintaining tight control over sensitive information. I’ve seen the gun he keeps at his hip, too.

More fun.

"Is it worth the risk?" I ask myself. But the stakes are too high, and the safety of so many people that I care about hinges on what I might uncover. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what lies ahead.

"Damn you, Marcus," I mutter under my breath. “You and your eyes and your damn fine ass. Damn you to hell and back, you fucking handsome man. Making me break into my boss’s office.”

Tonight, I find out the truth.

* * * * *

Vibrant moonlight filters through the blinds, casting thin, silvery shadows across the office floor. My heart races as I stand in the darkened hallway of the office building, my fingers trembling with anticipation and fear. The decision to betray my professional ethics is like an elephant sitting on my chest—especially since I’m so young in my career, it should be years before I’m so jaded that this kind of betrayal doesn’t bother me—but I can't shake the feeling that there's a murderous truth waiting to be discovered.

I glance down at my watch; the numbers glowing faintly: 2:17 AM. It's time. Actually, it was time a while ago, but I’ve spent more time than I’d like to admit sitting right here, psyching myself up to betray everything I believe in.

"Alright, Lia," I whisper to myself, taking a deep breath. "You've got this."

I slip my security card from my pocket and hold it up to the scanner next to Brian Russell's door. A red light blinks on the device, and I know I don't have clearance for this level of access. But I'm prepared—using my knowledge of SSR's systems and some flirting with a very desperate guy in the IT department, I've crafted an override code that should bypass the security protocols. Despite being a terrible person that heaven, or whatever is up there, shouldn’t listen to, I pray that my security override works.

"Here goes nothing," I mutter, keying in the sequence.

A tense moment passes, and then the light turns green. The door clicks open, allowing me to slip inside.

"Damn, I'm good," I mutter to myself.

I power up Brian's computer, my fingers flying over the keys as I navigate through the various layers of security.

"Please let this be worth it," I plead silently, feeling a mix of dread and determination. Then, just as I'm about to access the information I've been seeking, a noise from the hallway makes me freeze.

My pulse quickens, my breath hitching in my throat as I listen intently. Footsteps?

No, just the hum of the air conditioning system kicking in.

I exhale, the tension ebbing slightly from my body.

I take a flash drive out of my pocket and continue my digging.

There’s a quietbeepas the computer acknowledges my supremacy and gives me access to everything on Brian’s computer. I dig deep into the schematics and spreadsheets that encompass everything about the project.

"Come on, come on," I whisper, willing the files to load faster. When I finally reach the hidden plans for the Resort, I can hardly believe what I'm seeing. Schemes far more sinister than I could have ever imagined stare back at me from the screen. My eyes widen as I read about a group simply called "Santoro"—they seem to be the puppet masters pulling the strings behind this entire project; the puppet masters and the bank, as well.

"Marcus was right," I breathe, feeling a mix of relief and horror.

I insert my flash drive and begin copying the files, my fingers trembling slightly with each click.

"Almost there," I tell myself, watching the progress bar inch toward completion.

But then, I hear it.

Something that isn’t the air conditioning.

Footsteps approaching. Panic surges through me like wildfire, and I hastily eject the flash drive, grabbing it and diving behind a bookshelf just as the door to the office swings open.

"Accelerate the plans," Antonio Mancini's voice pierces the silence, his tone hushed yet urgent. "Things are getting out of hand."

I press my back against the bookshelf, my heart pounding in my ears as I clutch the flash drive tightly in my hand. This is it. The end of the line. I know that if Antonio discovers me, there's no telling what he'll do. The man carries a gun and has all the calming presence of a grizzly bear with a blood-covered maw.

His footsteps draw closer, and I fight the urge to run.

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