The Betrayal of the Syndicate and the Maid Who Saved Me
Another heavy thud shook the door behind us, followed by the sound of scraping metal.
They were using a crowbar on the hinges.
“We have to go,” I said, grabbing the papers and stuffing them into my jacket.
I snatched the USB drive from the box and shoved it into my pocket.
“Can you walk?” I asked him.
Victor pushed himself up from the chair, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the desk.
“I can run if I have to,” he said, though his shallow breathing suggested otherwise.
I led the way toward the narrow hallway at the back of the room.
The floorboards groaned under our weight as we hurried toward a low wooden door that led down into the dark.
I pulled it open, and the smell of damp earth and stagnant river water rushed up to meet us.
We descended the stairs in near-total darkness, my hand sliding along the rough, wet brick of the wall.
Behind us, a loud splintering sound echoed from the room above.
The front door had given way.