Chapter 7 - The Race to Oakwood
Luca burst out of the smoking room and sprinted up the stairs to Michael’s bedroom.
He unlocked the door. Sophie was sitting on the edge of the bed, clutching the heavy iron lockbox like a shield.
“Is your mother alright?” she asked instantly.
“She’s fine. I stopped him.” Luca grabbed her good arm, pulling her toward the door. “We have to go. Now.”
“Where?”
“Oakwood Clinic.” Luca didn’t slow down as they hurried down the back staircase. “Romanov’s men are already there. They’re taking Leo, and they’ve sent someone to the third floor for your mother.”
All the color drained from Sophie’s face. “No. No, they can’t—”
“I won’t let them.”
They reached the underground garage. Gino had the black SUV running, the tires squealing as Luca and Sophie threw themselves into the back seat.
“Drive,” Luca barked. “Break every light.”
The SUV tore out of the estate, rain beginning to lash against the windshield. Chicago traffic blurred past them in a wash of neon and brake lights.
Sophie was hyperventilating, her hands tangled in her blood-stained apron.
“Why my mother?” she choked out. “She can’t even walk. Why would they hurt her?”
“Because Vanessa told them who you really are,” Luca said grimly. “You’re the only person who knows Vanessa’s secret identity. They’re tying up loose ends, Sophie. To them, your mother is just leverage to keep you quiet.”
Sophie buried her face in her hands, a jagged sob escaping her throat. “This is my fault. All of this is my fault. I never should have picked up that drawing.”
Luca reached across the seat and grabbed her hand.
He didn’t offer a polite, employer-like gesture. He held her hand tightly, his fingers interlocking with hers.
“Listen to me,” he said, his voice cutting through her panic. “You stepped between a hot oven and a helpless old woman today. You took a burn for a stranger. You are not the villain in this story. I promise you, Sophie, we will get her out.”
Sophie looked at him, her tear-filled eyes wide. She squeezed his hand back.
The clinic loomed ahead. Oakwood Rehabilitation was a massive, bleak brick building on the edge of the city.
Gino slammed on the brakes, mounting the curb directly in front of the glass doors.
“Gino, lock down the exits,” Luca ordered, pulling his weapon. “Sophie, stay behind me.”
They burst through the double doors.
The lobby was chaotic. A nurse was sobbing behind the reception desk, clutching a bleeding shoulder.
“Third floor!” the nurse cried, pointing to the elevators. “They have guns!”
Luca didn’t wait for the elevator. He hit the stairwell, taking the concrete steps two at a time. Sophie struggled to keep up, ignoring the burning pain in her bandaged arm.
They hit the third-floor landing.
Luca pushed the heavy fire door open.
The hallway was silent.
Too silent.
Room 312 was at the end of the corridor. Sophie’s mother’s room.
The door was wide open.
Sophie pushed past Luca, running down the hall. “Mom! Mom!”
She reached the doorway and froze.
Luca came up behind her, raising his gun.
Inside the room, the bed was empty. The wheelchair was overturned on the linoleum floor.
But there was someone in the room.
A massive man in a dark suit was unconscious on the floor, bleeding heavily from a wound on his temple.
Beside him stood a little boy, no older than seven, holding a heavy metal oxygen tank with shaking hands.
He had messy blonde hair and large, terrified blue eyes.
Leo.
“He tried to take the nice lady,” the boy whispered, his voice trembling. “I hit him.”
Sophie fell to her knees, pulling the boy into a desperate hug. “Leo. Oh my god, Leo.”
Luca scanned the room. “Leo, where is the lady? Where is Sophie’s mother?”
The boy pointed a shaking finger toward the ceiling.
“The other man took her,” Leo said. “He carried her up the stairs. To the roof.”
Luca’s blood ran cold.
They weren’t kidnapping her. They were going to throw her off the building to make it look like a suicide.
Suddenly, a heavy, metallic click echoed from the doorway behind them.
Luca spun around.
Standing in the hall, holding a shotgun leveled at Luca’s chest, was a man wearing an Oakwood security uniform.
But the badge on his chest wasn’t an Oakwood badge.
It was a silver double-headed eagle.
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“Drop the gun, Moretti,” the guard said, smiling. “Or I paint the room with the kid.”
TITLE: The Edge of the Roof
