Chapter 6 - The Wiretap
Marcus howled in agony, his leg buckling beneath him. He crashed onto the concrete floor, his gun skittering away into the thick white smoke.
Chaos erupted in the warehouse.
Gunfire flashed wildly as Marcus's panicked men shot at shadows.
Through the blinding smoke, Adrian descended from the rafters like an avenging angel. He moved with lethal precision, disarming two guards before they even realized he was there, knocking them unconscious with the heavy butt of his pistol.
“Claire! Get down!” Adrian bellowed over the gunfire.
Claire didn't hesitate. She threw herself over Leo, shielding the terrified eight-year-old with her own body. She fumbled with the thick ropes binding the boy's wrists, her fingers slick with sweat.
“Mommy!” Leo sobbed, burying his face in her shoulder.
“I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you,” Claire promised, finally yanking the knot free.
Suddenly, a massive hand grabbed Claire by the back of her hair, yanking her viciously backward.
Marcus had pulled himself up on his good leg. His face was twisted in pure, unadulterated rage. He pressed the barrel of a backup pistol directly against Claire’s temple.
“Drop it, Adrian!” Marcus roared, using Claire as a human shield. “Drop the gun, or I blow her brains all over this floor!”
The smoke began to clear.
Adrian stood twenty feet away, his pistol aimed perfectly at Marcus’s head. Three of Marcus’s men lay unconscious on the floor; the other three had fled into the night.
Adrian’s eyes flicked to Claire. She was terrified, but she gave him a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of her head.
Don't give up.
“You’re done, Marcus,” Adrian said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “The police are already on their way. I triggered the silent alarm in my car five minutes ago.”
“I don't care about the cops!” Marcus spat, blood dribbling down his chin. “I care about the wiretaps! Where did Isabella hide the recordings?!”
Adrian frowned. “What wiretaps?”
“Don't play dumb with me!” Marcus yelled. “Fourteen years ago, your mother wore a wire for the Feds! She recorded every illegal deal, every bribe, every murder I committed for your father! I killed her before she could hand them over, but she hid the tapes!”
Claire’s breath hitched.
The reversal hit her like a freight train.
Evelyn hadn't just been hiding from a murderer. She had been guarding the most dangerous piece of evidence in New Orleans.
“Marcus,” Claire gasped, the barrel of the gun digging into her skull. “The tapes aren't in the notebook.”
“Shut up!” Marcus screamed.
“I know where they are!” Claire yelled. “Answer one, open two!”
Marcus froze. “What did you say?”
“The spice tin,” Claire breathed, looking directly at Adrian. Her mind raced back to the first night she cooked for him. The old, faded metal spice tin Evelyn had given her. “Evelyn told me never to throw away the empty spice tin. She said it was the foundation of everything. I thought she meant the flavor.”
Adrian realized it at the exact same moment.
The tin wasn't just a container. It had a false bottom.
“The tapes are in the kitchen at the mansion,” Claire said.
Marcus’s eyes widened with greedy realization. He had spent fourteen years tearing the city apart, and the evidence had been sitting on the counter of his own boss’s kitchen for three weeks.
In that split second of distraction, Marcus’s grip on Claire loosened slightly.
It was all the opening Adrian needed.
Adrian didn't shoot Marcus.
Instead, he shot the rusted chain holding the massive steel cargo pulley directly above Marcus’s head.
The heavy steel hook plummeted downward.
Marcus looked up just in time for the two-hundred-pound block of solid iron to slam into his shoulder, crushing him to the floor.
Claire scrambled away, grabbing Leo and pulling him behind a stack of wooden crates.
Adrian rushed forward, kicking Marcus’s gun across the floor. He stood over the man who had betrayed him, who had murdered his mother, his chest heaving with years of repressed grief.
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder by the second.
Marcus coughed up blood, laughing weakly. “You think... this changes anything? The feds will find those tapes... they’ll lock you up too, Adrian. Your whole empire... is built on my crimes.”
Adrian looked down at him with cold pity.
“I don't care about the empire,” Adrian said softly.
He turned away from Marcus and walked over to where Claire was holding Leo.
He knelt down, looking at the little boy who shared his mother’s eyes.
“Are you okay, buddy?” Adrian asked gently.
May you like
Leo sniffled, nodding slowly. He looked at Adrian. “Are you the scary man’s boss?”
“Not anymore,” Adrian said. He looked up at Claire, his dark eyes filled with a terrifying, beautiful vulnerability. “Let the cops have him. We need to go get that spice tin.”
