Amidst the chaos of police radios, shouting guests, and boots stomping through the main lobby, Aria and Damien slipped entirely unnoticed through the hotel's labyrinth of service corridors.
They navigated the fluorescent-lit back hallways until they reached the metal doors of the subterranean loading dock.
The cool night air hit them instantly.
Idling quietly by the curb of the back staff exit was a blacked-out SUV. Standing flawlessly at attention beside the rear passenger door was Richard. His suit was perfectly pressed, his posture rigid and professional.
Dangling casually from his right wrist was a stainless-steel police handcuff. The metal chain connecting it to the other cuff had been cleanly snapped in half.
Richard smoothly pulled the car door open for Aria.
"Good evening, Ma'am," Richard greeted. "Traffic is a bit heavy out front, so we will be taking the designated alternate route."
Aria turned to Damien. She reached out, giving his hand a firm squeeze.
