Chapter 2: The Empty Shelf and the Secret Vault
I didn't argue with Camille, nor did I lunge for the key. Instead, I feigned defeat, letting my shoulders drop as I took a slow step backward toward the corner filing cabinets. "You think you’ve won, Camille," I said, my voice intentionally trembling to feed her narcissism. "You think a signature on a separation paper erases thirty years of blood equity." Camille laughed, a dry, dismissive sound. "Preston is signing the corporate restructuring papers with the senior board members right now in the penthouse suite. By sunrise, your name won't even be on the payroll, let alone the deed." She turned on her high heels and strode briskly back toward the grand ballroom to rejoin her lover, confident that she had successfully cornered me. The second her footsteps faded down the concrete corridor, I whipped around, sliding open the bottom drawer of the old green filing cabinet. Reaching behind the rusted metal tracks, I pressed a hidden mechanical release latch. With a soft pneumatic hiss, the back panel of the cabinet slid sideways, revealing a vertical service shaft fitted with a rusted iron ladder descending straight down into the subterranean belly of the historic hotel. I pulled a small flashlight from my pocket, gripped the cold iron rungs, and plunged downward into the dark, determined to unearth the truth before Preston and his cabal could lock me out forever.
