Chapter 6 - THE VAULT OF LIES
The blinding white flash erased the world. A concussive shockwave shattered the silence of the vault, rattling the fillings in Mara’s teeth.
She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears, but the high-pitched ringing pierced straight through her skull.
In the chaotic brilliance, Vincent moved like a phantom.
Dante fired blindly, the bullet sparking against the brass deposit boxes inches from Vincent’s head. Before Dante could adjust his aim, Vincent closed the distance. He grabbed Dante’s wrist, twisting it violently backward with a sickening snap. Dante screamed, dropping the gun. Vincent drove his knee into Dante’s ribs and followed with a brutal strike to the temple, dropping the traitor to the marble floor.
Across the room, Marcus was stumbling backward, clutching his eyes and firing wild bursts from the submachine gun. The bullets chewed through the ceiling tiles, raining plaster down on them.
“Toby!” Mara screamed, ignoring the gunfire. She scrambled across the floor on her hands and knees.
Marcus tripped over the folding chair, dropping the gun as he hit the ground.
Mara lunged forward, grabbing the submachine gun by the hot barrel. She didn't know how to shoot it, but she swung the heavy wooden stock like a baseball bat, catching Marcus square in the jaw. He went limp instantly.
The vault plunged into an eerie silence, save for the hissing of the broken overhead light and the frantic gasps of Toby.
Vincent was already at the boy’s side, a switchblade in his hand. He sliced the ropes binding Toby’s wrists and gently peeled the duct tape from his mouth.
Toby lunged forward, sobbing, and buried his face in Mara’s chest.
“I’ve got you,” Mara wept, wrapping her arms tightly around her teenage brother. “I’ve got you, it’s over.”
Vincent stepped back, breathing heavily. He looked down at Dante, who was groaning on the floor, his wrist completely shattered.
Vincent picked up his fallen pistol and aimed it at Dante’s head.
“Where is Russell?” Vincent demanded, his voice a low, lethal growl.
Dante spat a mouthful of blood onto the marble. “Go to hell, Vince.”
Vincent didn't hesitate. He shifted his aim and fired a single shot into Dante’s kneecap.
Dante shrieked, thrashing in agony.
“I don't have time for loyalty tests, Dante,” Vincent said coldly. “Where is he?”
“The school!” Dante sobbed, clutching his ruined leg. “Ashford High! The new athletic center they’re building! He’s using the construction site as a staging ground!”
Vincent lowered the gun. He turned to the wall of safety deposit boxes. The brass door of 402 was hanging open.
Marcus had dropped the silver heart-shaped locket on the floor when the flashbang went off. Vincent picked it up and walked over to Mara.
He held it out to her.
Mara took it with trembling hands. “This… this is my mother’s. I put it on her neck at the funeral home. How is it here?”
“Open it,” Vincent said softly.
Mara pressed the tiny latch. The locket popped open.
There was no picture inside. Instead, a tiny, folded piece of micro-paper was wedged into the frame.
Vincent gently pulled it out and unfolded it. It was a handwritten note, penned in elegant, sharp cursive. Vincent’s father’s handwriting.
If you are reading this, Vincent, it means I am dead, and Russell finally made his move. Russell didn’t just steal money. He orchestrated the hit on your mother twenty years ago to break me. I found out. I hired Ellis, the bank guard, to hide the true ledger—the one that proves Russell’s treason to the Five Families.
Vincent’s breath hitched. His eyes scanned the next line.
Ellis hid the ledger, but Russell killed him before I could get the location. I dug up Ellis’s wife’s grave to find this locket, hoping he hid the clue inside. He didn't. The only people who know where Ellis hid the ledger are his children.
Vincent slowly lowered the paper. He looked at Mara, then at Toby.
“Your father didn't die of a heart attack,” Vincent whispered. “And he wasn't just a bystander. He was working for my father. He hid the one thing that can destroy Russell Vance.”
Mara’s mind reeled. Her quiet, gentle father, a man who worked double shifts and brought them donuts on Sundays, was entangled in the highest levels of the mafia.
“I… I don't know anything about a ledger,” Mara stammered.
“Think, Mara,” Vincent urged, stepping closer. “Your dad knew he was being hunted. He knew Russell would come for him. Where would a father hide something so important that it could guarantee his children's safety?”
Mara squeezed her eyes shut. Memories of her father flooded her mind. The smell of his aftershave. His worn leather boots. The way he used to tap his knuckles on the kitchen table when he was thinking.
“Answer One, Open Two,” she muttered.
She opened her eyes, gasping.
“The toolbox,” Mara said. “The red Craftsman toolbox he left me. He told me never to sell it. He said it was the foundation of our family. I’ve kept it under my bed for ten years.”
Vincent’s eyes lit up with a terrifying, predatory fire.
“Russell doesn't know about the toolbox,” Vincent said. “He sent Silas to your apartment to find the ledger, but Silas only found Toby’s stash of cash. Russell still thinks the ledger is in the wind.”
“What do we do?” Toby asked, his voice shaking.
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Vincent looked at the two siblings. He had spent his whole life surrounded by killers and thieves, people who would sell their own mothers for a dime. But looking at Mara—a waitress who had stared down a gun barrel to save her brother—he saw something he hadn't seen in a very long time. True loyalty.
“We end this,” Vincent said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy, tarnished brass Zippo lighter. His father’s lighter. He rolled it in his palm. “We go to the school. We give Russell exactly what he wants. And then we burn his empire to the ground.”
