Chapter 17 Mauricio
Mauricio
“If we die tonight, I’m blaming you for the terrible planning.”
Regina’s voice crackles through my earpiece as I watch Sabino’s convoy pull away from the estate, taillights disappearing into the darkness like embers fading.
Three hours. That’s all we have to break into a fortress designed by a paranoid monster and steal ledgers that could destroy his entire empire.
“My planning is flawless,” I counter, checking my watch for the third time in as many minutes. “Your father’s the one with terrible timing. Who schedules mandatory meetings at ten PM?”
“A man who never sleeps and trusts no one.” Her tone carries bitter familiarity. “The eastern families demanded this sit-down after your press releases started circulating. He has no choice but to attend.”
I scan the estate through night-vision binoculars from my position in the tree line.
Security lights paint everything in harsh white, cameras tracking in preset patterns Regina mapped out days ago.
Twelve guards visible, probably another six inside, all armed with weapons that would make military contractors jealous.
“Talk me through the security upgrades again.” I lower the binoculars, focusing on her voice—steady, professional, showing none of the fear she must be feeling about returning to this place.
“Father installed additional motion sensors after I escaped. Pressure plates on the main stairs, infrared beams across the second-floor hallway, and a new biometric lock on the vault door that requires fingerprint, retinal scan, and a twelve-digit code that changes daily.”
“And you know today’s code how?”
“Because I’ve been receiving his security updates through a backdoor I installed in his system two years ago.” Pride enters her voice. “Paranoid men create patterns. Father updates codes at 8 PM every night, same routine, same predictable algorithm. I’ve been cracking them for months.”
The admission makes something warm bloom in my chest—not just respect for her capabilities, but genuine awe at how thoroughly she’s been preparing for this moment. “You’ve been planning this heist longer than you’ve known me.”
“You gave me a reason to accelerate the timeline and someone capable of executing it with me.”
The word choice—someone, not just an ally or accomplice—settles between us like an unspoken acknowledgment of what we’ve become.
Seven weeks ago, she was an intelligence asset.
Five weeks ago, a strategic alliance. Now she’s the woman I’d burn the world for, and that shift in priorities should terrify me more than it does.
“Security shift change in ninety seconds,” she says, pulling me from dangerous thoughts. “That’s when you move. East side entrance, third window from the corner—I disabled the sensor a few days before Giordano helped me escape.”
The mention of Giordano makes my jaw tighten. We still don’t know if he’s alive after that video Sabino sent—beaten, bloody, used as a message to make Regina come home. Another name on the list of people who’ll pay for touching what’s mine.
“I’m moving.” I slip from the tree line with practiced silence, every step calculated to avoid sight lines and motion sensors.
The night is cooperating—cloud cover obscuring the moon, wind covering small sounds.
But cooperation only goes so far when you’re infiltrating a fortress designed by a man who survived decades in this world by being more paranoid than his enemies.
The window Regina indicated is exactly where she said—third from the corner, sensor disabled, lock mechanism simple enough that my picks have it open in under thirty seconds. I slip inside, immediately cataloging the space through my night-vision goggles.
Regina’s bedroom. Perfect entry point because no one would expect her to come back of her own volition.
“I’m in. Moving to your position.”
“Second floor, east wing, last door on the right.” Her breathing picks up slightly—not panic, just adrenaline. “I’m ready.”
The hallway is a gauntlet of cameras and sensors, but Regina’s intel proves flawless. I move through blind spots with the precision of someone who trusts his partner’s information absolutely, and five minutes later I’m standing outside her door.
She opens it before I can knock, and the sight of her steals my breath again.
She’s dressed in black tactical gear that fits like a second skin, dark hair pulled back, face devoid of the makeup and masks she usually wears.
This is Regina stripped to essentials—dangerous, focused, absolutely breathtaking.
“Stop staring,” she whispers, but there’s heat in her green eyes. “We have work to do.”
“I’m memorizing you like this.” I step inside, closing the door with careful silence. “In case this goes wrong and I need something beautiful to think about while Sabino kills us both.”
“Morbid.” But she’s smiling as she checks her own gear—lock picks, small flashlight, and the unmarked Glock I gave her three days ago. “Though I appreciate the compliment buried in the death threat.”
I cross the room, unable to resist pulling her close for one moment of contact before everything becomes dangerous. “If this goes sideways—”
“It won’t.” Her hands find my chest, steady and sure. “We planned for every contingency. We have three hours. And I know this house better than Father knows himself.”
“Regina—”
“Stop.” She rises on her toes, pressing a kiss to my jaw. “Stop looking for reasons this will fail and start believing we’re good enough to make it succeed. We’re in this side by side, remember? That means trusting each other even when it’s terrifying.”
She’s right, and I hate that she’s right, and I hate even more how easily she’s learned to read my concerns.
“Side by side,” I agree, releasing her with reluctance. “Lead the way to your father’s vault. Let’s steal everything that bastard values and implode his fucking life.”
We move through the estate like ghosts, Regina leading with the confidence of someone who’s memorized every board that creaks, every camera angle, every patrol route. I follow, hyperaware of her presence ahead of me, hand never far from the gun at my spine.
The main stairs are indeed equipped with pressure plates—I can see them now that I know what to look for, subtle weight sensors that would trigger alarms if anyone stepped wrong. But Regina navigates them with practiced ease, pointing out safe zones I’d never have spotted alone.
The second-floor hallway is a maze of infrared beams—visible through my night-vision as a web of red light criss-crossing the space. Regina pulls out what looks like a small remote, pressing buttons with familiar efficiency.
“Backdoor access to his security system,” she explains, watching as the beams power down section by section. “We have a thirty-second window before it automatically resets. Move fast.”
We sprint through the hallway, reaching the vault door just as the beams reactivate behind us. Close—too close—but we made it.
The vault entrance is hidden behind a false panel that Regina opens with practiced ease. Beyond it, a steel door that looks like it belongs in a bank sits embedded in reinforced walls. Biometric scanner glows red, waiting for verification.
“This is where it gets interesting.” She pulls out a small device, something that looks like it came from a spy movie. “Giordano helped me acquire Father’s fingerprint and retinal data a month ago. If this works—”
“If?” The word comes out sharper than intended.
“When.” Her correction is firm as she places the device against the scanner. “When this works, we’ll have sixty seconds to enter the vault, locate the ledgers, and exit before the secondary security system activates.”
“Secondary security system you failed to mention earlier?”
“I didn’t want you worrying.” But there’s tension in her shoulders now, fingers working the device with focused intensity.
“Father’s paranoid. The main security is just the first layer.
Once someone enters the vault, they have sixty seconds to input a cancellation code or poison gas floods the room. ”
“Christ, Regina—”
“Got it.” The scanner beeps green, and the vault door begins to open with a hydraulic hiss that sounds deafening in the quiet hallway. “Clock starts now.”
We plunge into darkness, and even with night-vision the vault is a maze of shelves and filing cabinets. Regina moves with purpose, navigating straight to the back corner where a leather-bound ledger sits innocuously among other documents.
“This is it.” She grabs it, hands shaking slightly. “Seven years of gathering evidence, and it all comes down to—”
“Company!” The shout comes from the hallway, followed by the unmistakable sound of boots on marble. Multiple sets. Moving fast.
Regina’s eyes go wide. “That’s impossible. Father’s at the meeting. These guards shouldn’t be—”
“Doesn’t matter.” I grab her hand, scanning for exits that aren’t the way we came. “There has to be another way out of this vault.”
“There isn’t. Father designed it with only one entrance to prevent exactly this kind of—”
“Then we go through them.” I pull out my gun, checking the chamber with grim efficiency. “Stay behind me. No matter what happens, you stay behind me.”
“Mauricio—”
“Not negotiable.” I position myself between her and the vault door, every muscle coiled for violence. “You wanted us working as equals? Right now, that means you let me handle the shooting while you figure out our actual exit strategy.”
The vault door explodes inward with the force of guards using a battering ram. Three men pour through, weapons raised, faces showing surprise when they register our presence.
I fire before they can—controlled bursts, training from prison and instinct combining into lethal efficiency. First guard drops immediately, second takes two shots before going down. The third gets a round off that whistles past my ear close enough to feel the heat.