Infiltrating the ultra-exclusive Silicon Valley enclave known as the Cypress Ridge Country Club required three things: a staggering amount of generational wealth, a complete lack of shame, and an invitation. Clara Vance possessed only the second, but as the original architect of AuraTech’s security

"Not here," Victor said, standing up and tossing a crisp hundred-dollar bill onto the table to cover his drink. "If Julian is as sloppy as you say, he might have private investigators tailing either of us. My car is out back."

Clara didn't hesitate. She stood, matching his pace as he navigated them

"Victor," Clara said, her voice tight, the blood draining from her face. "Julian's tracker app shows he is pulling into the parking lot of the very building we are in."

Victor did not flinch. His icy blue eyes snapped toward the massive digital display on the far wall of the vault. He pressed a but