Chapter 7 - THE TRAIN STATION LOCKER AND THE FLASH DRIVE
The smoke cleared, leaving the cold, damp air of the conservatory heavy with the smell of sulfur.
Dorothy was gone. The tactical team had vanished into the night as quickly as they had arrived, leaving only shattered glass and the defaced photograph of Elena DeLuca behind.
Roman stared at the photograph on the bench. The words OUR TURN felt like a death threat delivered from a ghost.
“Who were they?” I coughed, waving the lingering smoke from my face. “Hale’s men?”
“No,” Roman said, his jaw locked in fury. “Hale’s men wear suits and use cheap pistols. Those men were professionals. Mercenaries.”
He picked up the rusted key Dorothy had dropped on the floor.
“Whoever they are, they know my mother’s secrets,” Roman said. He looked at me. “We need to get to locker 402 before they do.”
Ten minutes later, we were speeding back toward the city center in the SUV. I had called Silas from the road, instructing him to keep Sam and Rose locked inside the estate’s panic room with ten armed guards.
The central train station was deserted at this hour. The flickering neon lights hummed as we walked quickly past the empty ticketing counters.
We found the bank of old metal lockers near the disused east platform.
Roman slid the rusted key into locker 402. It turned with a harsh click.
He pulled the metal door open.
Inside sat a small, black velvet box, identical to the ones used for expensive jewelry.
Roman took it out and opened the lid.
There was no jewelry inside. Instead, resting on the velvet cushion, was a thick, encrypted USB flash drive and a handwritten letter sealed in an envelope with Elena’s initials.
Roman tore the envelope open. I stood close, reading the elegant, sweeping handwriting over his shoulder.
“My dearest Roman. If you are reading this, Dorothy has told you the truth about Maria. I am so sorry I couldn’t tell you myself. I was terrified. But Vincent Hale wasn’t the only one involved in Maria’s death. He had a partner. Someone inside our own family.”
Roman’s breath hitched.
“I spent the last five years compiling evidence. Financial records, wiretaps, offshore accounts. It is all on this drive. The traitor is trying to steal the family from within. Trust no one, Roman. Not even your own blood. Protect Rose. Love, Mom.”
The reversal struck like a physical blow. The threat wasn’t just the rival syndicate. The call was coming from inside the house. Someone Roman trusted had helped murder the mother of his child.
“Who could it be?” I whispered. “Your father is dead. You have no siblings.”
Roman stared at the flash drive, his expression turning to stone.
“My father had a brother,” Roman said quietly. “My uncle, Marcus. He runs the family’s legitimate businesses in New York. He always resented my father for taking the throne.”
Before Roman could say another word, the sound of slow, mocking applause echoed down the empty train platform.
We both turned.
Stepping out from behind a concrete pillar was a man in his late sixties, wearing an immaculate cashmere overcoat. His hair was silver, and his face bore a striking resemblance to Roman’s.
It was Uncle Marcus.
And standing behind him were the three mercenaries in tactical gear who had kidnapped Dorothy.
“Hello, Roman,” Marcus smiled, a cold, empty expression. “I see you found your mother’s little parting gift.”
Roman instinctively stepped in front of me, shielding me from the mercenaries.
“You helped Vincent kill Maria,” Roman said, his voice laced with absolute venom.
“It was strictly business,” Marcus replied smoothly. “Your father was weak. He wanted peace. Vincent and I wanted expansion. Maria was just a waitress. We eliminated her to force a war. But Elena was a clever woman. She figured it out and hid the evidence.”
Marcus held out his hand.
“Give me the drive, Roman. And I’ll let the maid walk away.”
“Where is Dorothy?” Roman demanded.
Marcus sighed. “The old woman served her purpose. She killed Vincent for me, tying up my loose ends perfectly. But unfortunately, her heart couldn’t handle the stress of the car ride. She passed away ten minutes ago.”
Tears sprang to my eyes. Dorothy. The sweet woman who just wanted to play the piano. She had sacrificed herself to protect Rose.
Roman’s eyes burned with a lethal rage. He didn’t reach for his gun. He held up the flash drive.
“You want the evidence, Marcus?” Roman asked.
“Hand it over,” Marcus said, gesturing for one of his mercenaries to step forward.
Roman looked at the tracks behind him. The digital sign above the platform blinked: EXPRESS FREIGHT TRAIN - APPROACHING.
The ground began to rumble. The deafening horn of the midnight freight train blasted through the station.
“Claire, get down,” Roman whispered.
Roman didn’t hand the drive over. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the black velvet box directly onto the train tracks, just as the massive steel wheels of the freight train roared past at sixty miles an hour.
Marcus screamed in horror. The drive was completely pulverized under the weight of the train.
“You idiot!” Marcus roared. “Kill them!”
The mercenaries raised their weapons.
But Roman was already moving. He grabbed my arm, pulled me behind the concrete pillar for cover, and drew his pistol.
A hail of bullets shattered the tiles where we had just been standing.
“The drive is gone!” Marcus screamed over the roar of the train. “You have no proof!”
Roman leaned around the pillar and fired two precise shots, dropping the first mercenary.
Roman ducked back, reloading his weapon. He looked at me, a dangerous, victorious smile crossing his face.
He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a small, black USB flash drive.
“The box I threw was empty,” Roman whispered. “The drive is right here.”
But as Roman turned to fire again, my cell phone vibrated violently in my pocket.
I pulled it out.
It was a video message from Silas, Roman’s head of security back at the estate.
I hit play.
But Silas wasn’t on the screen.
May you like
Instead, the video showed Victoria Hale. She had escaped the holding cell. She was standing in the estate’s panic room, holding a gun to my brother’s head.
“Roman threw my father’s life away,” Victoria’s voice hissed through the speaker. “Now, I’m taking his daughter’s. Bring me the flash drive, or the maid’s brother and your precious Rose die in ten minutes.”
