The phone on the table stopped ringing, then immediately began to vibrate again.

The name *Alpha* flashed relentlessly against the white wood of the table.

My eyes drifted from Julian to the corner of the nursery.

Just behind the heavy oak wardrobe, obscured by a decorative curtain, was the small iron hatch.

It was an old laundry chute that connected to the service tunnels.

The tunnels ran beneath the floorboards, a dark labyrinth I had cleaned a hundred times.

I knew exactly which joists creaked and which ones were silent.

I knew that the panel behind the changing table was loose.

If I could get into the passage, I could reach the maintenance hatch directly behind Julian.

But Evan was sitting right in front of the wardrobe, his body blocking the lower half.

He was still holding a heavy security walkie-talkie in his good hand.

He looked alert despite his injury, his eyes darting between Julian and Lorenzo.

“We can make a deal, Lorenzo,” Julian said, his eyes scanning the room.

“You sign over the exclusive distribution rights for the Rossi pharmaceutical branch.”