Chapter 294

Chapter 294:

They reached a junction where the corridor split three ways.

“You take the west wing,” she instructed, pointing left. “I’ll handle the east. We meet back here in twenty minutes.”

Mikhail unzipped the duffel bag, revealing six identical black devices. He handed three to Rose. Each one was the size of a paperback book, with a digital timer and a small red light.

“Remember,” he said, his voice low and serious. “Place them near the support columns. Set the timer for sixty minutes.”

Rose took the devices, sliding them carefully into her uniform’s large pockets. “I know what to do.”

As Mikhail headed down the west corridor, Rose turned east, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. After months of planning, after all the setbacks, she was finally going to win. Finally, she was going to take everything from Camille, just as Camille had taken everything from her.

The first location was the electrical room. Rose slipped inside, finding it mercifully empty. She moved swiftly to the main circuit breaker panel, using the magnetic back of the first device to attach it to the metal surface. The tiny screen lit up as she set the timer: 60:00. 59:59. 59:58. The countdown had begun.

Stefan Rodriguez sipped champagne at the bar, feeling distinctly out of place among the glittering elite of New York society. He hadn’t expected an invitation to the Phoenix Foundation gala. When it arrived, his first instinct had been to decline. After all, what place did Camille’s ex-husband have at her triumphant moment?

But Alexander Pierce had called personally, explaining that Stefan’s knowledge about Rose had been invaluable. That his continued help was appreciated. That his presence would show unity against a common enemy.

So here he stood, in a rented tuxedo, watching from a distance as Camille dazzled the crowd. She looked happy, confident—completely transformed from the broken woman who had signed the divorce papers eighteen months ago. The sight filled Stefan with a complicated mixture of regret and pride.

“Another champagne, sir?” a server asked.

Stefan shook his head, setting down his half-empty glass. “No, thank you.” As the server moved away, Stefan’s attention was drawn to something unusual: a man in a hotel staff uniform entering a door marked “Authorized Personnel Only” near the kitchens. What struck Stefan as odd wasn’t the act itself, but the way the man checked his watch as he did it. The careful glance around before entering. The subtle bulge in his jacket pocket.

Stefan had spent months learning Rose’s patterns, her associates, her tactics. That vigilance had become second nature to him.

He set down his glass and moved casually toward the door, pretending to look for the restroom. When he reached it, he hesitated only briefly before pushing it open.

Inside was a service corridor, dimly lit and silent. Stefan closed the door quietly behind him and followed the hallway, his footsteps echoing slightly on the hard floor.

Around a corner, he caught sight of the man again. He was kneeling beside an ornate column that supported the ceiling, placing something against its base. Something small and black, with a glowing digital display.

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