The fluorescent lights of the 49th floor cast long shadows across polished marble. It was nearly midnight. Vivien Monroe stood by the window of her corner office, arms crossed, watching a man in a gray uniform moped the floor near her desk, her lips curved into a cold smile. If you can open this safe, I'll marry you. The man looked up. He didn't laugh. Didn't ask if she was serious. He simply set down his mop, walked over to the antique safe that had sat unopened in her office for 18 years, and