The locks on the main floor had been upgraded a dozen times, but I knew the old service doors in the alley still used the original mechanical cylinders.
I walked twenty yards down the alley to an unmarked, rusted door that looked like a utility closet.
I slid the brass key into the lock.
It turned with a smooth, heavy click.
I pulled the door open and stepped into the pitch-black utility stairwell that ran between the walls of the showroom.
I locked the door behind me and stood in the darkness, waiting for my eyes to adjust.
I knew this building like the back of my own hand.
I navigated the narrow stairs, stepping silently in my rubber-soled shoes, until I reached the second-floor mezzanine level.
There was a small, grated ventilation panel that looked down directly into the private VIP suite.
The VIP suite was a secure, windowless room where we handled multi-million dollar transactions with our most exclusive clients.
I knelt on the dusty concrete floor and peered through the grate.
The room below was bathed in soft, expensive lighting.
Julian and Chloe were standing near a mahogany table, both of them looking terrified.
"He's going to kill us," Chloe was whispering, pacing back and forth. "That old man knew too much. He looked right at the pavilion. What if he's an undercover appraiser for the insurance company?"
"Stop panicking," Julian snapped, though his voice was entirely devoid of confidence. "Marcus threw him out. He's just a crazy old bum who got lucky with a guess."
"It wasn't a guess!" Chloe cried, her composure completely shattering. "He knew it was a double refraction! Robert is going to find out we almost got caught, and he's going to throw us under the bus to save himself!"
Before Julian could answer, the heavy oak door of the VIP suite clicked open.
I held my breath.
Robert walked into the room.
He was wearing a five-thousand-dollar bespoke suit, a silk tie, and a relaxed, arrogant smile.
He was carrying a heavy, combination-locked metal briefcase.
"Good evening, team," Robert said smoothly, setting the briefcase on the mahogany table. "The buyer is waiting downstairs in the loading bay. Do we have the real stones ready for transport?"
My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I thought it might crack my sternum.
It was true.
My own flesh and blood, the man I treated like a son, was dismantling my empire piece by piece.
"Robert," Julian said, his voice trembling. "We had a slight situation on the floor."
Robert stopped unlocking the briefcase.
He slowly looked up, his smile vanishing, replaced by a cold, reptilian stare.
"Define situation," Robert said.
Before Julian could explain, a loud, sharp electronic beep echoed through the utility stairwell where I was hiding.
I froze in absolute horror.
It was the alarm on my digital wristwatch.
It was 4:00 PM.
My daily reminder to take my beta-blocker medication.
Down in the VIP room, Robert’s head snapped upward, staring directly at the ceiling grate.
"Someone is up there," Robert hissed.
He pointed a finger at Julian.
"Get Marcus. Now."
Silence fell over the utility stairwell, suffocating and heavy.
I frantically pushed the button on my watch, killing the alarm, but the damage was already done.
I heard the heavy oak door of the VIP suite slam shut downstairs.
Footsteps began to pound against the marble floors, moving fast.
I scrambled to my feet, my joints protesting with a sharp, blinding ache.
I had to get out of the building.
If Robert caught me spying, he wouldn't just fire me.
The look I had just seen in his eyes wasn't the look of a businessman caught in a lie; it was the look of a cornered animal willing to do absolutely anything to survive.
I hurried down the dark stairwell, grasping the handrail to keep myself from falling.
My breathing was shallow and ragged.
The adrenaline was overwhelming my system, and a dull, throbbing pain started to radiate in the center of my chest.
I ignored it, forcing my old legs to move faster.
I reached the bottom landing and grabbed the handle of the alley exit door.
I pushed against the crash bar.
It didn't move.
I pushed harder, throwing my entire meager body weight against the metal.
Nothing.
I heard the heavy electronic click of a deadbolt.
Marcus had overridden the mechanical lock from the central security desk.