Chapter 6 - THE BURNING MANSION
The smell of gasoline and burning oak hit my lungs like a physical punch.
Black smoke was already billowing through the splintered bedroom door, crawling up the walls and devouring the oxygen. The fire was moving with terrifying speed, fueled by the mansion’s antique rugs and heavy drapes.
“Get them out of the panic room!” Luca yelled over the deafening blare of the fire alarms. He was tearing the sheets off the ruined bed, soaking them in the bathroom sink.
I punched the code into the keypad. The mirror slid open. Ruth was huddled on the floor, clutching her chest, while Vanessa sat in the corner, paralyzed by fear.
“We have to go! Now!” I shouted, coughing as the smoke thickened.
I grabbed Ruth by the arm and hoisted her up. She was incredibly weak, her face pale and covered in a sheen of cold sweat.
“My box,” Ruth wheezed, pointing a trembling finger at the nightstand.
“I’ve got it,” Luca said. He snatched the yellow metal lunchbox, tucked it under his arm, and threw a soaking wet bedsheet over Ruth’s head and shoulders. He tossed another wet sheet to me and one to Vanessa.
“Keep this over your mouth. Stay low,” Luca ordered.
Vanessa finally snapped out of her stupor. “We can’t go out there! The whole hallway is on fire!”
“The service elevator is at the end of the hall. It runs on an independent generator and drops straight to the wine cellar,” Luca explained, his eyes watering from the smoke. “From the cellar, there’s an old prohibition tunnel that leads to the carriage house.”
Luca kicked the remains of the bedroom door wide open.
A wall of heat blasted us. The grand hallway, usually lined with priceless art, was an inferno. The flames licked at the vaulted ceiling, and the roar of the fire sounded like a freight train.
Luca led the way, his gun drawn in one hand, the lunchbox tucked securely under the other arm. I kept my arm tightly around Ruth’s waist, supporting most of her weight as we crouched low beneath the smoke line. Vanessa crawled behind us, coughing hysterically.
We made it ten yards down the hall when a burning chandelier crashed to the floor, blocking our path to the main stairs.
“This way!” Luca shouted, pulling us toward a heavy, unmarked oak door near the guest quarters.
He threw it open to reveal a narrow, industrial-looking elevator. We piled inside. Luca slammed the emergency override button, and the heavy metal doors slid shut, cutting off the intense heat and the roar of the flames.
The elevator jerked and began a rapid, stomach-dropping descent.
Ruth leaned against the metal wall, gasping for air through the wet sheet.
“Luca,” she rasped, her eyes wide with terror. “The rosary. I left the rosary on the bed.”
Luca looked down at her. His face was streaked with soot. “It doesn’t matter, Mom. You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”
“No,” Ruth cried, grabbing his jacket. “You don’t understand! The rosary… it’s not just a necklace. There’s a tiny latch on the back of the cross. Inside… inside is the key.”
Luca froze. “What key?”
“The key to the lockbox,” Ruth sobbed. “Your mother gave it to me that night. She said if anything happened to her, I had to keep the key safe until you were old enough to understand. It opens a locker at Union Station. That’s where she hid the shipyard deed and the evidence against Marcus!”
The elevator ground to a halt with a heavy clank. We were in the basement.
Luca stared at Ruth in absolute shock. “You’ve had the evidence to destroy Marcus Thorne for twenty-nine years?”
“I was terrified!” Ruth wept. “If I opened that locker, Marcus would have known. He would have killed you, Luca. I was waiting for the right time, but then… then you became so powerful. I didn’t know how to tell you I lied for decades.”
The doors slid open. The wine cellar was cool and dark, smelling of damp earth and aging cork.
Luca didn’t look angry. He looked devastated. He realized that the only reason Marcus hadn’t killed him as a child was because Ruth had successfully hidden the key in plain sight, living a life of poverty to protect him.
“We have to go back for it,” Luca said, turning toward the elevator panel.
“Are you insane?” Vanessa screamed, stepping out into the cellar. “The house is burning down! Paulie’s men are up there!”
“If Marcus gets that rosary, he destroys the evidence. He wins,” Luca said, his jaw set.
“Let him win!” Vanessa cried. “You’re rich, Luca! Just let him have the stupid shipyard!”
Luca looked at her with an expression of pure, icy contempt. “It’s not about the money, Vanessa. It’s about my mother’s life. Both of my mothers.”
He turned to me. “Claire. Take them through the tunnel. It lets out behind the carriage house. My bulletproof SUV is parked inside. The keys are under the driver’s seat. Drive them to the police precinct in the city. Tell Captain Miller everything.”
“You can’t go back up there alone,” I pleaded, my heart hammering.
Luca handed me the yellow lunchbox.
“Keep this safe,” he commanded softly. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Before I could argue, he hit the button. The elevator doors closed, taking him back up into the inferno.
“He’s going to die,” Vanessa whimpered.
“Shut up and move,” I snapped, my fear turning into adrenaline.
I grabbed Ruth and practically dragged her toward the heavy wooden wine racks at the back of the cellar. Luca had shown me the hidden tunnel mechanism once, months ago, when he explained the mansion’s history. I pulled a specific iron sconce, and a section of the stone wall swung inward, revealing a dark, dirt-floored tunnel.
We hurried through the darkness, the damp air cooling our soot-stained faces. After two agonizing minutes, we reached a metal door. I shoved it open.
We were inside the carriage house. The sleek black SUV sat in the center.
“Get in!” I yelled, unlocking the doors.
I helped Ruth into the passenger seat and threw the lunchbox onto her lap. Vanessa scrambled into the back.
I jumped into the driver’s seat, reached under, and found the keys. The engine roared to life.
I hit the garage door opener. The heavy wooden doors rolled up, revealing the chaotic scene outside.
Flames were shooting from the roof of the main mansion. Sirens were finally wailing in the distance.
But as I put the car in drive, a figure stepped out from the shadows of the driveway, blocking our path.
It was Paulie.
He raised his tactical shotgun and aimed it directly at the windshield.
“Going somewhere, ladies?” he yelled over the crackling fire.
Suddenly, the back door of the SUV ripped open.
Vanessa grabbed the yellow lunchbox from Ruth’s lap, scrambled out of the car, and ran straight toward Paulie.
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“I have the box!” Vanessa screamed at Paulie. “Don’t shoot! I’m on your side!”
TITLE: THE TRAITOR’S BARGAIN
