Chapter 5 - The Neighbor In The Shadows
The air inside the rusted train car grew freezing cold.
I stared at Marcus. The man who had helped me carry groceries up the stairs. The man who had sat on my couch and read bedtime stories to Ben when I was exhausted from cleaning the Moretti mansion.
He was one of them. He had been Carlo’s spy all along.
“You’re a monster,” I whispered, my voice shaking with a betrayal so deep it made me physically sick.
Marcus chuckled, a dry, rasping sound that echoed through the fog.
“I’m an employee, Nora,” Marcus corrected, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses. “Carlo pays very well for a dedicated babysitter. It was quite easy, really. A lonely widow, desperate for a father figure for her son. You invited me right into your home.”
He tapped his thumb against the red button on the detonator.
“Now,” Marcus commanded, looking directly at Adrian. “Tell your men to drop their weapons, or the boy in the SUV burns.”
Adrian didn’t flinch. He stood perfectly still, his body shielding mine, his gun aimed directly at Marcus’s head.
“If you press that button, Marcus,” Adrian said, his voice a low, terrifying rumble, “I will put a bullet through your eye before your thumb lifts.”
“I die, the boy dies,” Marcus shrugged. “Carlo wants you dead, Adrian. He’s tired of waiting for the throne. He offered Daniel the chance to kill you four years ago, but the fool refused. Now, you’re going to walk out of that train car, get on your knees, and let us finish the job.”
I looked frantically at the black SUV parked fifty yards away. The tinted windows hid Ben, but I knew he was terrified inside.
Adrian didn’t lower his weapon. But he slightly turned his head, his lips barely moving as he whispered over his shoulder to me.
“Nora. The whistle.”
I blinked, confused. “What?”
“Whistle,” Adrian murmured. “The second half of the code. Now.”
I remembered what Ben had done at the dinner table. Three taps. Then two.
I took a deep breath, praying my lips wouldn't tremble too much.
I whistled. Three sharp notes. A pause. Two sharp notes.
Marcus frowned, his grip on the detonator tightening. “What is she doing? Shut her up!”
But the whistle wasn’t meant for Marcus.
It was meant for the shadows.
Fifty yards away, the back door of the SUV silently clicked open. Marco, the massive head of security who had stayed back with the car, had heard the emergency signal.
Before Marcus could realize what was happening, Marco emerged from the fog like a ghost. He didn’t shout. He didn’t run.
He simply raised his silenced rifle and fired.
Thwip.
The sniper standing on top of the nearby cargo container—the man covering Marcus—dropped like a stone.
Chaos erupted in the railyard.
Marcus screamed in panic, his thumb pressing down on the detonator.
“No!” I shrieked.
A loud beep echoed from the device, but there was no explosion.
No fire. No shattered glass. The SUV remained perfectly intact.
Marcus stared at the detonator in shock.
Adrian smiled. A cold, ruthless, predator’s smile.
“I bought those SUVs from a military contractor in Germany,” Adrian said smoothly. “They are equipped with signal jammers. The moment my engine shuts off, a localized frequency block activates. Your detonator is a useless piece of plastic.”
Marcus’s face drained of color.
“Fire!” Marcus screamed to his remaining men.
Gunfire lit up the foggy railyard.
Adrian tackled me to the floor of the train car as bullets shredded the rusted metal walls. The deafening roar of automatic weapons filled the air. Adrian’s men, highly trained and fiercely loyal, returned fire with devastating accuracy.
I covered my ears, screaming as sparks flew around us. Adrian covered my body with his own, shielding me from the flying shrapnel.
“Stay down!” he roared.
The shootout lasted less than thirty seconds.
When the gunfire finally ceased, an eerie silence fell over the yard, broken only by the groans of wounded men.
Adrian slowly lifted his weight off me. He checked me for injuries, then stood up, keeping his gun raised.
I peeked over the edge of the train door.
Carlo’s men were scattered across the gravel, incapacitated or dead.
Marcus was lying on the ground, clutching a bleeding wound in his leg. His glasses were shattered, his detonator cast aside.
Adrian leaped down from the train car and walked slowly toward the wounded traitor. He didn’t look angry anymore. He looked like the Grim Reaper in a tailored suit.
Adrian placed the heel of his expensive Italian shoe directly onto Marcus’s bullet wound.
Marcus screamed in agony, thrashing against the gravel.
“Where is Daniel?” Adrian demanded, applying more pressure.
“I don’t know!” Marcus sobbed, coughing up blood. “Isabella ordered the move! She found out about the note!”
“Where did she take him?” Adrian roared.
Marcus shook his head frantically. “You’re too late! The crypt was a trap! Isabella knew he left that clue for you! She didn’t take him to the graveyard, she took him to the old Moretti Steel Mill!”
Adrian froze.
The steel mill. It was a massive, abandoned factory that the Moretti family had owned for decades. It sat right on the edge of the active commercial train tracks.
“She’s going to kill him,” Marcus laughed, a wet, bloody sound. “She’s tying up loose ends. Carlo is in custody, so Isabella is taking control. By midnight, Daniel Hayes will be incinerated in the blast furnace, and all evidence of his captivity burns with him.”
I looked at my watch. The glass was cracked, but I could read the digital numbers perfectly.
11:15 PM.
“We have forty-five minutes,” I gasped, terror gripping my heart.
Adrian grabbed Marcus by the collar, hauling him off the ground.
“If my friend dies tonight, Marcus,” Adrian whispered, “I will personally make sure you suffer for the rest of your unnaturally long life.”
Adrian dropped him, turning to Marco. “Tie him up. Get Nora and Ben back in the car. We’re going to the mill.”
I scrambled down from the train car, my hands clutching the silver key I had found behind the photograph.
We sprinted back to the SUV. Ben was huddled in the backseat, trembling but unharmed. I threw my arms around him, sobbing with relief.
“Mommy’s here,” I cried, kissing his face. “You’re safe.”
Adrian climbed into the driver’s seat, slamming the car into gear. The tires spun on the gravel, and the massive vehicle tore out of the railyard, heading toward the industrial district.
I held Ben tightly, staring out the window into the darkness.
“We’re coming, Daniel,” I whispered to the glass.
But as we sped down the highway, Adrian looked at me in the rearview mirror, his face pale with a sudden, horrifying realization.
“Nora,” Adrian said, his voice tight. “If Isabella knows Daniel left the clue about the crypt... it means she intercepted his messages.”
I frowned, confused. “Yes. She set a trap.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Adrian said, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. “If Isabella set the trap, she knows we aren’t going to the crypt. She knows Marcus would confess under pressure.”
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He looked back at the road, his eyes wide with fear.
“She wants us at the steel mill.”
