I used that split second of distraction to slip through the side connecting door into Dante’s private study.

The air in the study was cold.

I crept along the wall, my hand brushing the cold leather of the sofa.

Suddenly, a strong hand clamped over my mouth.

An arm wrapped around my waist, lifting me off my feet.

“Do not make a sound,” a voice whispered in my ear.

It was Dante.

The scent of sandalwood and leather washed over me, bringing a sudden rush of relief.

I nodded quickly against his palm.

He slowly let his hand slip from my face, but he kept me close to his chest.

In his right hand, he held a sleek black handgun.

“There are at least six of them,” Dante murmured, his mouth hovering near my ear. “They bypassed the perimeter lobby.”

“I know how,” I whispered back, my voice trembling. “I translated the cypher.”

He went entirely still.

“The shift schedules, the keycodes, the blind spots,” I said. “Someone inside your organization sold them to Moretti.”

I could feel the tension lock in his muscles.