"Tonight, Yanna... tonight I am going to break the toy."
The threat hung in the cool air of the night, heavier than the humidity, sharper than the flashing lights they had just escaped. Camille didn't wait for Yanna to process it. She didn't wait for the valet to open the door. She shoved Yanna into the back of the Rolls Royce with a force that knocked the wind out of her.
Yanna landed hard on the leather seat, her white dress bunching around her waist, the stainless steel plug jarring inside her with a sharp, metallic thud against her prostate. She gasped, a sound of pure shock, as the door slammed shut, sealing them into the mobile black box.
There was no partition raising this time. It was already up. The driver knew. The car was a vault, and Yanna was the currency being counted.
Camille didn't sit on her side. She crawled over Yanna.
