“My orders are to keep you in my sight, Mrs. Blackwell,” Elias said.

He put the SUV in park and turned off the engine.

The street was busy with pedestrians in heavy coats, hurrying to avoid the freezing sleet.

I opened the door and stepped out into the cold air.

The wind caught my hair, blowing it across my face.

Elias was instantly at my side, his hand lightly touching my elbow.

We walked up the wide stone steps of the bank.

Two men in dark suits stood near the revolving doors.

I recognized them as Roman’s security detail, their eyes scanning the crowd.

They gave me a brief, silent nod as we passed.

Inside, the bank lobby was warm and smelled of old paper and polished brass.

The ceiling rose fifty feet above us, decorated with faded gold leaf.

My boots clicked loudly on the marble floor as we walked toward the safety deposit vault.

A sign pointed down a carpeted staircase to the basement level.

“The vault is downstairs,” I said.

“I know,” Elias said.

He seemed to know the layout of the bank remarkably well.