3. Lena
Lena
The dim glow from the streetlights reflects off the windows of City Hall, the massive building still looking half-asleep.
I head straight for the front entrance. No sneaking around, just walk in like I have a reason to be here.
A shadow moves behind the glass doors. The night guard.
Exactly who I came for. I knew he’d be on shift.
After talking to Valerie two days ago about getting the USB stick back, I checked the schedule.
He’s stuck working nights, thanks to Anton.
A while back, he let in a group with a petition to see the mayor, but Anton didn’t like that, so he cut his pay and had him reassigned.
Now he only works graveyard. And that’s why I’m here.
I’ve seen how much he resents Anton. Sometimes I slip him a little cash, nothing major, just small favors, little excuses.
In return, he shares things. Not much, but enough to be useful.
I’m sure he knows more about Anton’s abuses than he lets on, but he’s just trying to keep his job.
I get it. Still, when the time comes, what he knows could be the piece that makes my case stick.
I walk in like I know exactly what I’m doing and give him a quick nod. He lifts an eyebrow, but there’s no real surprise on his face.
“This early?” he mutters, tugging his jacket tighter. “What are you doing here, Lena? And seriously… what the hell are you wearing?”
“I need to grab something from accounting,” I say, maybe a bit too fast. “A stapler. From the accountant Anton fired last week. I helped her out with some stuff, and she asked me to pick it up. Apparently, it has deep emotional value, you know, classic office drama.”
He gives me a long, skeptical look. Yeah, he doesn’t buy it . But his grudge against Anton is stronger than his doubt. After a beat, he sighs and nods.
“Fine. But don’t let anyone see you. I’ll handle the rest.”
Then he gestures toward a side hallway, away from the main entrance.
“You should wait. But not here. Too exposed. Go down that way and keep your head down.”
I slip into the hallway and start wiping down picture frames and chairs with a rag I brought.
The jumpsuit does its job. It makes me look like just another invisible employee.
The blonde wig hides my face well enough, and the cap’s pulled low, just in case a security camera decides to pay attention.
Every step feels too loud in my own body, but I keep moving like I belong here.
Every creak, every echo makes me flinch.
The silence in the building stretches, thick and twitchy.
Finally, after what feels like forever, the guard comes back. He’s holding the red stapler, grinning to himself.
“Here she is, the red beauty,” he says with a chuckle, lifting it like a prize.
I reach for it, trying to keep it casual, but he just grins and hands it over without asking anything. I run my fingers along it, as casually as I can. Nothing. No USB.
“This was the only red one? You’re sure?”
“Positive,” he says.
He lowers his voice slightly. “What you’re looking for is tucked in the groove under the rail.”
I flip it over and slide the metal rail. A tiny USB falls into my palm. I try not to react, but my hand closes around it faster than I mean to. I glance around. Still just us. I hand him back the stapler and kiss him on the cheek. “Be careful, Lena. Don’t drag me into anything,” he mutters.
“Thank you,” I say, and I mean it. I slip a few folded bills into his hand. He feels the money and makes a face, about to protest, but I press it in.
“You’ve got a family,” I say quietly.
He sighs, defeated, and pockets it. “Just make it count, okay?”
Then he leans in a little, lowering his voice.
“I’m heading back to my post. Don’t use the front, staff and security are already showing up. Take the back exit. Keypad code’s 1155. That’ll get you out clean.”
He gives me a look. “Disappear! Fast. And good luck.”
I nod and head in the opposite direction, toward the rear of the building. That’s it. I’ve got what I came for. Just a few more steps and I’m out. Free.
Then, shit. One of Anton’s security guys rounds the corner ahead. He’s heading straight toward me. My stomach drops. He might recognize me.
I slow my pace, angle my head away, and yank the cap lower over my eyes.
Keep walking. Don’t panic.
But my heart’s already hammering, loud and fast, like it wants out of my chest. I can’t let him see my face.
No time to think, just move.
I spot a side door, grab the handle, and slip through it in one sharp motion. The door clicks shut behind me.
Too loud. Was that too loud?
I freeze, chest tight, holding my breath.
One... two... three... I listen, heart pounding. Footsteps. Keep going. Please keep going.
I turn back to the door, reach for the handle again, and try to open the door. It doesn’t budge.
Shit, shit, shit.
For a moment, I can’t even process it. Then, the smell hits me, sharp, chemical, stale.
Overwhelming. I’m in a supply closet. No windows.
No vent. No air. Shelves tower over me, packed tight with industrial cleaning supplies.
The space is barely wide enough to turn around.
The walls feel like they’re closing in. Panic prickles in my chest, spreading like static under my skin.
I can’t scream. Can’t bang on the door. The guard’s too far now, and if I make noise, Anton’s men might hear me.
I force a breath through my nose and instantly regret it.
My throat burns. My lungs revolt. I squeeze my eyes shut and fumble for my phone with trembling fingers. I text Lexi.
Me: Trapped in a supply closet. Ground-floor, City Hall. Don’t ask. Wake up Gabriel. He can send someone to get me out before the place fills up. I can’t be seen here. I mean it.
I stare at the screen, praying she’s awake. Then, three dots. She’s typing.
Lexi: Not asking. You’ll get the full lecture later. Gabriel’s not home. I’m calling Dominic. He’ll know what to do.
Me: No. Not Dominic. Call someone else from Gabriel’s team. Mike or Dean.
Lexi: I don’t know where they are right. Dominic’s probably just getting to bed. He’ll reply. Just breathe and wait for a sign.
Me: If anyone sees me like this, I swear I’ll die.
She doesn’t respond to that. A few minutes crawl by. Then another message pops up.
Lexi: Dominic texted back. Says he’s coming to “rescue” you. One day, this whole danger-chasing thing is going to blow up in your face.
Me: Rescue? God! Let’s just hope he finds me alive. It smells like pure bleach in here.
Lexi: Don’t freak me out. Stick your nose in a corner or look for a vent. Fuck, Lena.
I rub my face, biting down a groan. The last thing I need right now is to owe Dominic anything. I try the door again. Still locked.
Me: I’m hanging in. Tell him I’m near the back entrance. Maybe the night guard will let him in. God, what a mess.
I slide down to the floor, back against the door. There’s a faint draft slipping in underneath, cold, but it helps dull the burn in my nose. I keep my eyes closed and breathe through the wig I’ve taken off.
How the hell is Dominic even supposed to find me, let alone get inside?
A wave of dizziness rolls through me. All I want is to close my eyes. I fight the urge, trying to keep my eyelids open, but it’s getting harder. The floor’s disgusting, and the last thing I want is to press my face anywhere near it, but that’s where the air is.
Time drags. My mind starts playing tricks on me.
At one point, I swear I hear Dominic’s voice in the hallway.
And I hate how easily I recognize it. Every shift in his tone, every clipped command.
Can’t help it, we’ve been colliding for months now.
Lexi’s my best friend. And she’s dating Dominic’s best friend.
Figures. He’s practically a local celebrity now.
Ever since he got back from the army, he’s been throwing parties, breaking hearts.
.. oh, and pretending to look after his family’s hotel business.
I’m mad at myself. This whole thing? Amateur hour. I should’ve handled it better. I’m mad at Lexi for calling him. Mad at this whole damn situation. Every muscle in my body’s coiled, ready to snap.
The phone buzzes in my hand. No idea how long it’s been. It’s a text from Dominic. Of course, he has my number. I have his, too. Doesn’t mean we actually text, not unless it’s the end of the world.
Dominic: I’m in the hallway. Knock so I can find you.
I push myself up and knock with my fist, not too loud, just enough. Everything’s spinning. If I pass out now, I’m screwed. I kick the door. It throws me backward, flat against the floor.
Footsteps. They stop right outside. I hold my breath.
The door swings open. Dominic fills the doorway, eyebrows raised.
His eyes scan the whole scene—me slumped on the floor, pale, wig in my lap, cap slipping down over one eye.
He doesn’t speak at first. Just stares. Then lets out a slow breath and shakes his head.
“What the hell, Lena...” His voice is lower than usual. Rougher.
Then he cracks a smile, the kind you make when you’re torn between laughing and shouting. I glare up at him. He smirks, then offers his hand.
“Come on, undercover agent. Let’s get you out of the mop closet.”
I hesitate, then take the help. He pulls me out of the room, and fresh air rushes into my lungs. I follow him without a word, without looking back. I made it out. And the USB… is still in the pocket of my jeans, tucked under the jumpsuit. I pat it, it’s there. Thank God.
Dominic grabs my hand, and we head for the exit. The night guard—my ally—waits by the door, grinning at Dominic. He nods at Dominic, who nods back. We’re out.
“Thanks, boss. Take care of the lady. See you around.”
“Where are we going?” I ask, gulping down the crisp morning air.
City Hall is ringed with trees and winding paths, like a miniature park. I’m guessing Dominic parked nearby.