"We move. Now!"
Alex grabbed Ava's hand and didn't wait for agreement. Her fingers clenched his instinctively as they pivoted down the narrow hallway behind the velvet-draped casino floor, disappearing behind a mirrored panel that led to the service corridors.
They should've seen the play. Should've known Isabella would never let things play out easily. Her trap hadn't been physical, it had been psychological. And Ava, desperate, enraged, predictable, had walked right into it
They slipped into a corridor lined with supply crates and walk-in refrigerators. A waitress nearly dropped her tray of champagne flutes as they brushed past.
Ava offered no apology. The noise from the main floor was swelling now, shouts, confused patrons, the thudding rush of security boots.
"Left," Alex directed sharply, hand still clasped in hers.
