Chapter 6 - THE VAULT
The rhythmic, high-pitched beeping echoed off the concrete walls of the basement like a countdown to execution. “Move!” Adrien roared. He dragged Evelyn away from the heavy iron door of the holding cell and pushed her toward the far corner of the basement, behind a thick, reinforced concrete pillar. “Cover your head and open your mouth!” Adrien ordered, throwing his own body over hers to shield her from the blast. Evelyn clamped her hands over her ears, curling into a tight ball against the cold floor. The explosion was deafening. The shockwave ripped through the basement, violently shaking the foundation. Concrete dust rained down like snow, and the heavy iron door of the holding cell was blown entirely off its hinges, crashing into the far wall. Evelyn coughed violently, her lungs burning with the acrid smoke of the detonated C4. Her ears rang with a high, sustained pitch. Adrien pushed himself up. He was covered in gray dust, a thin cut bleeding over his left eyebrow, but his eyes were sharp and alert. “Are you hurt?” he asked, pulling her to her feet. “No,” Evelyn gasped, waving the smoke away. “I’m okay.” They looked toward the top of the stairs. The wooden door had been blown to splinters, but the structural integrity of the basement had held. Thorne hadn't used enough explosives to bring down the house—he had only meant to kill them in the confined space. “He’s running,” Adrien gritted out, reloading his weapon. They scrambled up the debris-covered stairs and burst back into the grand foyer. The mansion was in chaos. The fire alarms blared, and thick black smoke rolled across the ceiling. Adrien’s men were securing the last of Thorne’s guards. “Boss!” a lieutenant shouted, running toward them. “Thorne escaped through the service tunnels! He took a vehicle from the rear garage!” “Did he have the girl?” Adrien demanded. “No, sir. He was alone. The girl wasn't in the house.” Evelyn felt a crushing weight descend on her chest. Thorne had lied. Lily hadn't been moved an hour ago. She hadn't been here at all. “Where did Whitmore send her?” Evelyn whispered, the despair threatening to drown her entirely. Adrien looked at her. He saw the heartbreak fracturing her resilience. He turned to his lieutenant. “Rip this house apart. Find Thorne’s office. I want every ledger, every hard drive, every scrap of paper. Now.” Ten minutes later, Adrien and Evelyn stood in Marcus Thorne’s lavish, smoke-filled office on the second floor. The mahogany desk had been ransacked by Adrien’s men. Adrien sifted through a pile of charred documents near the fireplace. Thorne had tried to burn his records before fleeing. “Here,” Adrien said, pulling a partially burned file from the ashes. He slapped it onto the desk. It was a transfer manifest from the Grand Aurelia, dated three years ago. Evelyn leaned over the desk, her eyes scanning the faded ink. Subject: Female. Age 7. Status: Compromised. Transferred to: The Rossi Estate. Naples, Italy. Evelyn stopped breathing. “Italy?” she choked out. “He sent her to Italy?” Adrien stared at the document. The color slowly drained from his face, replaced by a cold, terrifying realization. “The Rossi Estate,” Adrien whispered. “Do you know it?” Evelyn asked desperately. “I know it intimately,” Adrien said, his voice completely hollow. “Don Vincenzo Rossi is the head of the Camorra syndicate in Naples.” Adrien slowly looked up at Evelyn. “He is also my late wife’s father.” The revelation hit Evelyn like a physical blow. Elena hadn't just been running a rogue trafficking ring. She had been supplying her own father’s empire. And when Lily had vanished from the cellar, Elena hadn't sold her to a random buyer. She had sent the child to her father in Italy to ensure Adrien could never trace the disappearance back to her. “Why?” Evelyn asked, tears spilling over her cheeks. “Why would she send Lily across the ocean?” “Because Lily saw something in that cellar three years ago that could have destroyed Elena’s operation,” Adrien reasoned, his mind working rapidly. “Elena couldn't kill a child in my restaurant without risking an investigation. So she removed the problem.” “And Sofia?” Evelyn pressed. “Sofia was in the cellar too. She had the ribbon.” Adrien’s expression darkened. “Sofia must have witnessed the exchange. That’s why Whitmore kept her terrified. He knew if Sofia spoke, she would implicate Elena and her grandfather.” Evelyn gripped the edge of the desk. Her sister wasn't in the city. She wasn't even in the country. She was a prisoner in a mafia fortress across the Atlantic. “I have to go to Italy,” Evelyn stated, her voice shaking but resolute. “You can’t,” Adrien said bluntly. “Vincenzo Rossi’s estate is an armed compound. He has politicians in his pocket and an army at his gates. If a waitress from Chicago shows up asking questions, you will disappear before you even leave the airport.” “She is my sister!” Evelyn yelled, hitting the desk. “I will not leave her there for another day!” Adrien looked at her. He saw the same fierce, unwavering love that he felt for his own children. He saw a woman who had worked herself to the bone, who had risked everything, just to find a little girl who had been stolen in the rain. Adrien reached out and gently placed his hand over hers. “You are not going to Italy alone, Evelyn,” Adrien said softly. He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed a secure number. “Marco,” Adrien said into the phone. “Prep the private jet. Fuel it for a transatlantic flight. Call in every favor we have with the port authorities in Naples. We leave in one hour.” Evelyn stared at him in disbelief. “You’re coming with me?” “Rossi took your sister to protect his daughter’s lies,” Adrien said, his eyes burning with a dark, lethal fire. “And he terrified my daughter into two years of silence. He owes us both a debt.” Adrien hung up the phone. “And tonight,” he added coldly, “we are going to collect it.”
