Chapter 6 - The Nursery
The basement was a stark contrast to the opulent ballroom above. It was sterile, smelling of bleach and clinical apathy. I bypassed a retinal scanner using a cloned contact lens Marcus had provided, slipping quietly into a long corridor.
I peered through a small glass window on one of the doors. Inside were four cribs. The babies were sleeping, completely unaware that their lives were about to be sold to the highest bidder in the room above. A tear slipped down my cheek, ruining my carefully applied makeup. This was my mother's crib. This is where it started.
“Can I help you, Doctor?”
I froze. A heavy hand gripped my shoulder, spinning me around. It was one of Vance’s security guards. His hand rested on the handle of his holstered weapon.
“I was just checking the vitals of the subjects,” I lied smoothly, affecting a slight European accent. “One of the buyers is concerned about a family history of asthma. I need to access the medical server to verify the records.”
The guard narrowed his eyes. “The server room is restricted. Nobody goes in without Vance’s explicit authorization.”
“Then get him,” I snapped, feigning aristocratic impatience. “Tell him Lord Hasting is threatening to pull his three-million-dollar bid unless I verify the lungs on subject number four. I’m sure the Chief will be thrilled to lose his commission over your stubbornness.”
The guard hesitated, his greed warring with his training. He tapped his earpiece. “Chief, we have a doctor down here demanding server access.”
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A moment later, the guard nodded. “He’s coming down. Wait right here.”
My blood ran cold. Vance was coming. If he recognized my face beneath the makeup, I was dead.
