Chapter 5 - THE BURNING BRICKS
The rain felt like icy needles as Vivienne forced me down the front steps of the Romano estate and into the passenger seat of her sleek Mercedes SUV.
She slammed the door, locked it from the driver’s side, and kept the gun leveled at me as she started the engine. The tires spun on the wet gravel before catching, rocketing us down the long driveway and out the iron gates.
I clutched Nora’s crumpled drawing in my trembling hands.
“Give me that,” Vivienne demanded, snatching the paper from my grip while keeping one eye on the dark, slick road.
She glanced at the red X and the words Behind the loose brick.
A greedy, triumphant smile spread across her face. “A loose brick. Classic. The construction crew has been tearing up the floorboards, but they haven't touched the masonry by the front door yet. We’re going to walk in, pull the brick, take the lockbox, and walk out.”
“And then what?” I asked, my voice remarkably steady despite the terror gripping my chest. “You think Matteo will just let you disappear? He’s the mafia, Vivienne. He will hunt you to the ends of the earth.”
Vivienne’s smile faltered, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. “He won't be looking for me. He’ll be looking for my father. By the time he realizes I’ve taken the ledger to my buyer, I’ll be on a private jet to Geneva.”
“Your buyer?” I asked, seizing on the slip. “You said your father was working with someone. Who?”
“Someone who hates the Romanos just as much as we do,” Vivienne sneered. “You think Matteo is untouchable? There are factions in this city that have been waiting for a weakness. When they get that ledger, the Romano family is finished.”
I stared out the window at the blurred city lights. Leo had died to keep that ledger hidden. He had lived in a tiny, cramped apartment, working his fingers to the bone, just to ensure that violence never touched us. And now, this entitled woman was about to undo all of his sacrifice.
But as we turned onto the familiar, gritty streets of the narrows, a strange realization dawned on me.
Leo was a master mechanic. He built things to last. He wouldn't have just hidden a crucial, life-threatening lockbox behind a loose brick by the front door. It was too easy. Too obvious.
I looked down at the child’s drawing resting on Vivienne’s lap.
The red X wasn't inside the drawing of our apartment. It was on the outside of the green door.
He didn't hide it inside number four-eighteen, I realized with a sudden jolt.
Before I could process the thought, Vivienne slammed on the brakes.
The SUV skidded on the wet pavement, fishtailing wildly before coming to a jerking halt in the middle of Alder Court.
I looked through the rain-streaked windshield and gasped.
Our building was on fire.
Thick, black smoke billowed from the second-floor windows. Orange flames licked the ancient brickwork, illuminating the dark street in a hellish glow. The fire hadn't consumed the whole building yet, but it was spreading fast, eating through the dry rot and old timber.
Vivienne stared at the flames in absolute horror. “No... no, no, no!”
She slammed her fist against the steering wheel. “My father said he was going to burn it after we found the lockbox! The idiot must have panicked when Matteo grabbed him!”
She turned to me, her eyes wild, waving the gun frantically. “Get out. We have to go in there and get it before the fire reaches the front door!”
“Are you insane?” I yelled, shrinking back against the seat. “The building is structurally compromised from the renovations! If we go in there, the roof will collapse on us!”
“Get out!” she screamed, shoving the gun against my cheek.
I had no choice. I opened the door and stepped out into the freezing rain. The smell of burning wood and toxic chemicals hit my lungs instantly, making me cough.
Vivienne rounded the car, grabbing me by the collar of my uniform. “Move!”
We stumbled toward the green entrance. The heat radiating from the building was immense. The front door was already hanging off its hinges, propped open by the construction crew earlier that week.
As we stepped into the smoke-filled lobby, my eyes stung. The staircase leading to our second-floor apartment was completely engulfed in flames.
“Where is it?” Vivienne coughed, pointing the gun at me through the haze. “Where is the loose brick?”
“It’s not upstairs,” I lied, my mind working furiously. If I took her upstairs, we would burn to death. But if I stalled her down here, maybe Matteo would have time to arrive.
“The drawing,” I said, coughing into my sleeve. “The X was on the outside of the door in the drawing. It’s here, in the lobby.”
Vivienne squinted through the smoke, her eyes watering. She began frantically pushing against the bricks near the entrance, using the barrel of the gun to tap the mortar.
While she was distracted, my foot brushed against something metallic on the floor.
I looked down.
Half-buried under a pile of drywall and debris was a heavy, silver object.
I reached down and picked it up. It was a man’s pocket watch. The glass face was cracked, the hands frozen permanently at 11:42.
It was Leo’s watch.
But Leo hadn't worn this watch in years. He told me he lost it at the garage.
Why was it lying in the lobby of our apartment building?
Suddenly, a massive chunk of burning timber fell from the ceiling above, crashing to the floor right between Vivienne and me. Sparks showered over us.
Vivienne screamed, dropping the gun as she jumped back to avoid the flames.
The gun clattered across the tile floor, sliding straight into the dark shadows beneath the staircase.
Vivienne lunged for it, but before she could reach the shadows, a heavy, gloved hand shot out from the darkness and grabbed her by the throat.
A man stepped out of the smoke.
He wasn't Matteo. And he wasn't a firefighter.
He was wearing a tailored suit, a silk scarf covering his mouth and nose against the smoke. He lifted Vivienne off the floor with one hand, pinning her against the burning brick wall.
“You’re late, Vivienne,” the man said, his voice smooth and terrifyingly calm. “I told you I don't tolerate delays.”
Vivienne clawed frantically at his hand, her eyes bulging. “Victor... please...”
The man turned his head, his cold, gray eyes locking onto me.
May you like
He looked at the broken watch in my hand, and a cruel, knowing smile curved beneath his scarf.
“Hello, Rose,” he said. “I’ve been waiting a very long time to meet my brother’s wife.”
