“Excuse me,” I called, catching the attention of the security chief, a broad-shouldered man named Alvarez, his badge glinting under the low lights.
He turned, his gaze sharp as a blade. “Miss…?”
“Vivienne Sterling. I need immediate access to the server room on the 27th floor. It’s a matter of… family security.”
Alvarez’s brow furrowed. “The server room is a restricted zone. Only authorized personnel may enter.”
My pulse hammered. Dom’s empire rests on those servers. I pressed the phone to my ear, hearing Marco’s faint buzz—ready to execute.
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