Chapter 6 - THE FAKE LEDGER
The rain battered the metal roof of the warehouse, drowning out the distant hum of the city. On the narrow, rusted catwalk, the standoff felt suffocating.
Marcus kept the gun pressed hard against Clara’s temple. She didn’t whimper. She didn’t close her eyes. She stared straight ahead, her jaw set, trusting the man she had saved just an hour prior.
Leo stood completely still, his submachine gun lowered but not dropped, waiting for a single twitch from Lorenzo.
“I have the ledger,” Lorenzo lied smoothly, his voice projecting calm authority despite the storm raging inside him.
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Show me.”
Lorenzo slowly reached inside his dark, wet overcoat. His fingers brushed past his spare magazine, closing around a small, thick black notebook he always carried for personal notes. It was roughly the exact size and weight of the Swiss bank ledger.
He pulled it out just enough for Marcus to see the black leather cover in the dim light.
“Throw it to me,” Marcus demanded.
“Let her go first,” Lorenzo countered.
“You’re not in a position to negotiate, Moretti. Throw it, or I paint this railing with her brains.”
Lorenzo’s eyes flicked to Clara for a fraction of a second. A silent communication. Be ready.
Lorenzo pulled the notebook fully from his coat and tossed it into the air, over the side of the catwalk, toward the dark abyss of the warehouse floor below.
Marcus’s eyes instantly tracked the falling object. His greed overrode his training. For half a second, the pressure of his gun eased against Clara’s head.
Clara didn’t hesitate. She threw her elbow violently backward, striking Marcus squarely in the ribs, and dropped flat against the rusted grating.
Lorenzo raised his weapon and fired twice.
The suppressed bullets tore through Marcus’s shoulder and thigh. The man screamed, his gun firing wildly into the sky as he collapsed onto the catwalk.
The gunshots shattered the quiet of the warehouse. Below, the three guards by the main doors instantly raised their assault rifles, firing up at the catwalk. Sparks rained down as bullets richocheted off the metal stairs.
“Covering fire!” Leo roared, stepping in front of Lorenzo and unleashing a torrent of bullets toward the warehouse floor, pinning the guards behind a forklift.
“Clara, move!” Lorenzo yelled, grabbing her arm and pulling her up.
They sprinted down the catwalk toward the glass supervisor’s office. Lorenzo didn’t bother with the door handle. He raised his heavy boot and kicked the locking mechanism with all his strength. The door burst open, the glass pane shattering inward.
Lorenzo stepped into the room.
Mia jumped up from the folding chair, clutching her dirty teddy bear. She backed against the far wall, trembling violently.
Lorenzo dropped his gun, falling to his knees so he was at eye level with her. Tears he hadn’t shed in three years finally spilled over his lashes.
“Mia,” he choked out, holding his arms open. “Mia, it’s me. It’s Daddy.”
He expected her to run to him. He expected the embrace that would heal the gaping hole in his soul.
Instead, Mia looked at him with sheer terror.
She pressed her back harder against the wall, shaking her head. “No!” she cried. “The lady said you sent them to hurt me! She said you didn’t want me anymore!”
The words felt like a knife twisting directly into his heart. Celeste had poisoned his daughter’s mind, filling three years of absence with lies and fear.
“No, sweetheart, no,” Lorenzo pleaded, taking a slow step forward. “They lied to you. I never stopped looking for you. I love you.”
Mia looked frantically toward the doorway.
Clara stepped into the room, her clothes soaked and stained with her mother’s blood.
Mia gasped. “Auntie Clara?”
“It’s okay, Mia,” Clara said softly, her voice steady and warm. She held out her hand, pushing up the sleeve of her dark uniform. Wrapped around her wrist was a braided, colorful friendship bracelet.
Mia looked at the bracelet, then down at her own wrist. She wore an identical one.
“Your mom made this for me,” Clara smiled gently. “And she sent me to bring you home. Lorenzo is a good man, Mia. He’s here to save us.”
Mia’s lower lip trembled. She looked between Clara and Lorenzo. Slowly, she took a step away from the wall.
Before she could close the distance, a slow, mocking clap echoed from the doorway.
Lorenzo spun around.
Celeste stood in the shattered doorframe. Her elegant dress was ruined by the rain, her hair plastered to her face, but she looked completely unhinged.
In her left hand, she held Lorenzo’s fake black notebook.
In her right hand, she held a small, black remote with a single red button. A detonator.
May you like
“A touching family reunion,” Celeste sneered, throwing the worthless notebook onto the floor. “But if I can’t have the empire, Lorenzo... neither can you.”
She pressed the button.
