Chapter 6 - THE SILK TIE
The sound of the gunshot echoed off the marble walls of the penthouse.
Rosie didn’t wait to see who fired.
She dove across the expensive Persian rug, throwing her body over Leo.
She wrapped her arms tightly around his small frame, shielding him from the raining glass and the chaos.
“I got you, buddy. I got you,” she chanted into his hair, though her own ears were ringing.
When she finally looked up, the wind was howling through the shattered balcony window.
Arthur Vance lay on the floor, clutching his knee, screaming in agony.
Mateo stood over him, his weapon still smoking.
But Rosie’s eyes snapped to Lorenzo.
The mafia boss was leaning heavily against a marble pillar, his left hand pressing a blood-soaked handkerchief to his right shoulder.
He had stepped in front of Rosie when Vance’s gun went off in the confusion.
He took the bullet meant for her.
“Mr. Bianca!” Rosie scrambled up, pulling Leo with her.
“I am fine,” Lorenzo grunted, though his face was dangerously pale.
Mateo roughly zip-tied Vance’s hands behind his back. “Boss, we need to move. Hotel security will be up here in three minutes.”
“Security works for Vance,” Rosie realized out loud.
“Exactly,” Mateo growled. “We’re trapped.”
Rosie looked around the opulent penthouse. Her mind snapped back to management mode. She knew this building better than she knew her own apartment.
“No, we’re not,” Rosie said.
She grabbed a heavy silk tie from a display rack Vance kept by the door and wrapped it tightly over Lorenzo’s bleeding shoulder, tying a brutal, efficient knot.
Lorenzo winced, looking at her with a mixture of pain and deep fascination.
“You have a plan, Miss Hastings?”
“The laundry chute,” Rosie pointed to a discreet panel in the hallway. “It drops straight down to the basement sorting room. No cameras.”
Mateo looked at the small door. “I’m not fitting in that.”
“You and Lorenzo can take the staff stairs. I’ll take Leo down the chute. We meet at the loading dock.”
“I’m not leaving you unprotected,” Lorenzo growled, struggling to stand.
“You’re bleeding on my hotel’s carpet, Lorenzo,” Rosie snapped back, surprising herself with her own authority. “Move.”
For the first time all night, Lorenzo actually smiled. A real, genuine smile.
“Yes, ma'am.”
Rosie opened the chute door. It was wide enough for her and the boy.
“Okay, Leo,” she said gently, wiping a tear from his cheek. “We’re going on a slide. Like at the park.”
Leo sniffled, clutching his plastic dinosaur. “Is the bad man coming?”
“Not anymore,” she promised.
She pulled Leo into her lap and pushed off.
They slid in darkness for a terrifying ten seconds before tumbling out onto a massive pile of white hotel linens in the basement.
Rosie gasped for air, checking Leo immediately. He was unharmed, though his breathing was still wheezy.
She fumbled in her pocket for his backup inhaler and helped him take two puffs.
“Good boy,” she whispered, kissing his forehead.
She stood up, pulling Leo toward the exit door that led to the loading dock.
They were almost safe.
But as she reached for the handle, the door swung open from the other side.
Standing there was a man in a tailored suit, holding a suppressed pistol.
It wasn't hotel security.
It was Dante. The man from the dining room. The man who supposedly lost the two million dollars.
Dante smiled nervously, sweat beading on his forehead.
“I’m sorry, Miss Hastings,” Dante stammered, aiming the gun at her chest. “But Arthur Vance pays much better than Lorenzo.”
Answer One, Open Two.
Vance hadn’t just used Rossi. He had bought Lorenzo’s own men.
“Hand over the key, Rosie,” Dante said, stepping closer.
Rosie backed up, pushing Leo behind her legs.
She looked frantically around the laundry room. There were industrial washing machines, carts of towels, and a massive steam press.
She had no weapons.
But her hand brushed against something cold inside the pocket of the uniform jacket she was still wearing.
Not a gun.
A simple, wooden rosary. Her grandmother’s rosary, which she always carried on event days for good luck.
Dante cocked the pistol.
“I won’t ask again.”
Rosie looked at him, her eyes hardening.
May you like
“Neither will I.”
And she reached up and slammed the heavy fire alarm pull station on the wall.
