Chapter 6 - THE LEATHER JOURNAL
The phone line clicked dead.
For three agonizing seconds, nobody moved. The air in the bunker felt too thin to breathe.
“Lily,” I whispered. My vision narrowed until all I could see was the concrete floor. She was supposed to be at her college dorm in Chicago. Arthur had sent someone to grab her.
A primal, violent panic erupted in my chest.
I bolted toward the steel door.
Dominic caught me around the waist with his good arm, pulling me back against his chest.
“Let me go!” I screamed, fighting against his grip, kicking at his shins. “He has my daughter! He’s going to kill her, Dominic, let me go!”
“Grace, stop!” Dominic ordered, his voice raw but unyielding. He spun me around, gripping my shoulders tightly. “If you walk out those gates, he kills you both. He doesn’t want you. He wants me.”
“Then go out there!” I sobbed, hitting his chest. “Give him what he wants! Please!”
Dominic didn’t flinch. He absorbed my blows, his dark eyes filled with a terrifying resolve.
“I am not surrendering to a traitor,” Dominic said slowly, emphasizing every word. “And I am not letting him touch one hair on your daughter’s head. Do you understand me?”
I stopped fighting, collapsing against him in tears.
Dominic pulled me into a tight embrace, resting his chin on the top of my head. For a mafia boss, his heartbeat was incredibly steady against my ear.
“Julian,” Dominic commanded, not letting me go. “Pull up the perimeter cameras on the backup generator.”
Julian rapidly typed on the console. The static on the monitors cleared, revealing the dark grounds of the estate.
At the massive iron front gates, three black SUVs were parked horizontally, blocking the exit. Arthur stood behind the lead vehicle. Two of his men were holding Lily. She was terrified, crying, but unharmed.
“He brought fifteen men,” Julian observed, his voice tight. “We only have five guards left standing.”
“It’s enough,” Dominic said, pulling away from me. He looked at his father.
Salvatore had pushed himself up on his elbows on the medical cot.
“Dom,” Salvatore rasped, his voice stronger now that the poison was flushing out. “The journal.”
Dominic nodded. He walked over to a small metal lockbox bolted to the bunker wall. He pressed the St. Jude medal I was holding against a hidden scanner beneath the box.
With a click, it opened.
Inside was a weathered, leather-bound journal.
“Arthur thinks he built my legal shield,” Dominic said, pulling the journal out. “He thinks he knows all my secrets. He doesn’t.”
He tossed the journal to Julian.
“Page forty-two,” Dominic said. “Read the names.”
Julian flipped through the thick pages. He stopped, his eyes widening.
“These are the names of the corrupt judges Arthur bought,” Julian said in disbelief. “The wire transfers. The blackmail photos. It’s a complete confession of Arthur’s illegal activities, not ours.”
“My father kept his own records,” Dominic said with a dangerous smile. “Arthur thinks he’s untouchable because he holds our secrets. But we hold the rope that hangs him.”
Dominic grabbed an assault rifle from the weapon rack. He checked the magazine with one hand, ignoring the fresh blood seeping through his bandage.
“Grace,” Dominic said, turning to me. “I need you to be braver than you’ve ever been.”
I wiped my face, forcing my nurse’s training to override my mother’s panic. “What do you need me to do?”
“I need you to walk out the front door,” Dominic said.
Julian’s head snapped up. “Are you crazy? They’ll shoot her on sight.”
“No, they won’t,” Dominic said. “Arthur wants a deal. He wants the offshore accounts from the chess piece, and he wants his ledger destroyed. He’ll trade the girl for Grace.”
“You’re trading me?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“I’m putting you in position,” Dominic corrected, stepping intimately close. He pressed a small, heavy object into the pocket of my scrub jacket. It was a flashbang grenade.
“Walk out with the journal. Keep his eyes on you. The moment I give the signal, you close your eyes, cover your ears, and drop to the ground.”
I stared into his dark, relentless eyes. I trusted him. More than I had ever trusted anyone.
“What’s the signal?” I whispered.
Dominic touched my cheek. His thumb brushed away a lingering tear.
“You’ll know.”
I took the leather journal, clutching it to my chest like a shield.
Julian opened the heavy steel door.
I stepped out of the bunker, walking alone up the dark staircase, through the shattered dining room doors, and out into the cold night air of the estate grounds.
The moment I stepped onto the front steps, a spotlight from one of the SUVs blinded me.
“Well, well,” Arthur’s voice boomed through a megaphone. “The brave nurse. Where is the boss?”
“He’s inside!” I shouted, my voice echoing across the lawn. “He sent me to make a trade.”
I held up the leather journal.
“I have your blackmail files, Arthur! And the account numbers! Let Lily go, and you can have them.”
Arthur laughed. He stepped out from behind the SUV, dragging Lily with him by the arm.
“Mom!” Lily screamed, trying to pull away.
“Quiet,” Arthur snapped, pressing the barrel of his gun against her temple.
My heart stopped.
“Bring the book to the gate, Grace,” Arthur commanded. “Slowly.”
I walked down the marble steps, my legs feeling like lead. Fifty yards. Forty. Thirty.
I could see the terror in Lily’s eyes.
“Stop right there,” Arthur said when I was ten feet away from the iron gate. “Slide it through the bars.”
I knelt down, preparing to slide the book.
Suddenly, the massive speakers of the estate’s outdoor security system crackled to life.
It wasn’t an alarm.
It was classical music. Opera. Specifically, Nessun Dorma, blasting at a deafening, ear-shattering volume.
Arthur flinched, looking up at the speakers in confusion.
May you like
I knew it was the signal.
I pulled the pin on the flashbang in my pocket, tossed it through the iron bars directly at Arthur’s feet, closed my eyes, and hit the dirt.
