Chapter 6 - THE STATION OF SHADOWS
The cold, unforgiving steel of Julian's pistol pressed hard against Sienna's temple.
The ringing in her ears slowly faded, replaced by the heavy, terrifying breathing of the armed men surrounding her in her own ruined living room. Damien lay motionless on the floor, blood pooling beneath his head.
"I won't ask again, Sienna," Julian whispered, his breath smelling of expensive cigars and copper. "Give me the key. Or I put a bullet in your head and pry it from your dead fingers."
Answer: Julian realized the box was a decoy and came back. Open: How does Sienna keep the key without getting killed?
Sienna’s mind raced. If she gave him the key, he would kill her and Damien immediately. They were only alive because Julian needed the ledger to secure his power.
She looked at Damien on the floor. She had to buy time.
With a trembling hand, Sienna opened her fist, revealing the heavy brass key.
Julian smiled, reaching for it.
Before his fingers could touch the metal, Sienna violently threw the key into the dark, gaping hole in the floorboards.
Julian snarled, shoving her backward against the wall. "Get it!" he barked at his men.
Two guards dropped to their knees, shining flashlights into the dirt foundation, digging frantically through the mud and broken wood.
The distraction lasted exactly three seconds. But three seconds was all a predator needed.
Damien Cross wasn't unconscious. He had been playing dead.
With terrifying speed, Damien swept his leg out, sweeping the legs out from under the closest guard. He grabbed the falling man's rifle, twisted it upward, and fired a three-round burst into the second guard before the man could even raise his head from the floor hole.
Julian cursed, raising his pistol at Damien.
But Sienna didn't freeze. She grabbed a heavy, broken piece of floorboard and swung it with all her strength, smashing it into Julian’s wrist. The gun went off, the bullet burying itself in the ceiling.
Damien lunged, slamming his massive shoulder into Julian's chest, driving the traitor backward through the apartment door and into the hallway.
"Run, Sienna!" Damien yelled, wrestling with Julian on the floor. "Get the key and go to the station!"
Sienna dropped to her knees, plunging her hands into the mud. She found the brass key, gripped it tightly, and scrambled out the shattered window into the alleyway.
She ran. She ran through the freezing rain, her cheap catering uniform soaked and torn, her bare feet bleeding on the pavement. She flagged down a passing cab, throwing the only twenty-dollar bill she had at the driver.
"Central Station," she gasped. "Please, hurry."
Twenty minutes later, Sienna stood beneath the massive, vaulted ceilings of the Central Train Station. It was 3:00 AM. The station was a cavernous, echoing ghost town, populated only by a few sleeping homeless people and flickering fluorescent lights.
She found the bank of rusted, vintage luggage lockers near the lower platforms.
She scanned the numbers. 399... 400... 401...
Her hands shook violently as she inserted the brass key into the lock. It turned with a heavy, satisfying click.
Sienna pulled the metal door open.
Inside was a heavy, leather-bound book. The Devil’s Crown. The master ledger of the Valenti syndicate.
She reached for it, her fingers brushing the worn leather. This book was worth millions. It was the reason her father had lived in fear. It was the reason Isabella was dead.
Reversal.
As she pulled the book out, a small, folded piece of paper slipped from the pages and fluttered to the floor.
Sienna picked it up and unfolded it. It was a birth certificate.
Her eyes scanned the faded ink, and her heart stopped completely.
The certificate belonged to Leo. But the mother listed wasn't Sienna’s sister.
The mother listed was Isabella Cross.
Sienna staggered back, clutching the paper. Leo wasn't her nephew. He was the secret child of Isabella and Julian, born before Isabella married Damien. Her sister hadn't died giving birth to him; she had been paid to hide him. Leo was the true heir to the Valenti bloodline.
Suddenly, the cold, hollow click of a gun hammer cocking echoed in the empty terminal.
"Put the book down, Sienna," Julian's voice echoed from the shadows.
He stepped into the light, his face bruised and bloody from his fight with Damien. He was limping, but his gun was pointed directly at her chest.
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"You don't want the money," Sienna whispered, holding up the birth certificate. "You want your son to inherit Damien’s empire."
Julian smiled a sick, twisted smile. "A king needs a bloodline. Now, give me the book, and I might let you live long enough to say goodbye to the boy."
