I knew it wasn’t Dominic.

It was Leo’s men.

They had tracked the GPS on my car, or perhaps they had someone watching the bank.

I looked around the vault room, my heart hammering against my ribs.

There was no other exit.

Just the steep stairs leading up to the lobby.

I looked down at the floor, searching for any other way out.

Near the back of the room, behind a row of unused safety deposit boxes, was an iron grate.

A rusted sign above it read: *Emergency Exit – Subway Transit Access.*

I rushed to the grate and tugged on the iron handle.

It groaned, resisting my pull, but it budged an inch.

Upstairs, the footsteps reached the top of the basement stairs.

“Check the vault,” a voice commanded.

I grabbed the handles of the two infant carriers, my fingers slipping on the plastic.

I threw my weight against the iron grate.

It swung open with a screech that echoed through the basement.

Beyond it lay a dark, concrete tunnel that smelled of damp earth and electricity.

The sound of an approaching train rumbled in the distance.