THE MEN AT THE WEST DOOR

I stared at the little boy.

Leo.

He was terrified, his lower lip trembling, but he was trying so hard not to cry out loud.

I had never seen him before. In eight months of working at the estate, I had never once seen a child.

Vanessa saw the confusion on my face.

She laughed, a sharp, bitter sound that echoed off the concrete walls.

“They keep him at the boarding school in Switzerland,” Vanessa sneered. “For his own protection. Luca only brought him back this morning for the engagement party. Such a sweet, tragic secret.”

She dug the blade slightly into the collar of his pajamas.

Leo squeezed his eyes shut.

“Let him go, Vanessa,” I said, forcing my voice to stay level.

“Open the vault, Rachel.”

“I don't have the brass key! Your men are tearing apart the west wing looking for it!”

“I don't need the key,” Vanessa spat. She kicked a heavy canvas bag at her feet. “My men brought explosives to blow the primary lock. But the secondary lock requires your handprint. Do it.”

“And if I do?”

“I let the boy go. And I let you run.”

I looked at Leo.

He opened his eyes and looked at me. He had Luca’s dark eyes. My father’s eyes.

My cousin.

I couldn't let him die.

I slowly walked toward the steel door.

Next to the heavy handle was a black glass biometric scanner.

“Put your hand on it,” Vanessa ordered, stepping back slightly, pulling Leo with her.

I raised my right hand.

I pressed my palm against the cold glass.

A green laser swept across my skin.

The machine beeped once.

BLOODLINE CONFIRMED. SECONDARY LOCK DISENGAGED.

A heavy, metallic thud echoed inside the thick steel door.

Vanessa smiled triumphantly.

“Perfect.”

She didn't let Leo go.

Instead, she raised the pistol toward me.

“You really are as naive as your mother was.”

I braced myself for the gunshot.

But it didn't come.

Leo didn't scream. He didn't cry.

With a sudden, violent motion, the six-year-old boy drove his elbow backward, directly into Vanessa’s stomach, and stomped his heel onto her foot.

Vanessa gasped, her grip loosening for a fraction of a second.

Leo broke free and ran behind me.

Vanessa recovered instantly, aiming the gun.

But I didn't freeze.

I grabbed the heavy, cast-iron fire extinguisher from the wall bracket beside the vault.

I swung it with everything I had.

The red metal connected squarely with Vanessa’s wrist.

The bone cracked loudly.

She screamed, dropping the gun and the knife.

I pushed Leo through the heavy vault door and slammed it shut behind us, throwing the interior deadbolt just as Vanessa threw herself against the outside steel.

We were in the dark.

I fumbled for the light switch.

Fluorescent bulbs flickered to life.

We were inside a massive, climate-controlled room filled with safe deposit boxes, ledgers, and stacks of banded cash.

I dropped to my knees and pulled Leo into my arms.

“Are you okay?” I gasped, checking his neck for a cut.

It was just a scratch.

Leo nodded, wiping tears from his cheeks.

“You're very brave,” I whispered, hugging him tightly.

“My dad told me what to do if someone grabbed me,” Leo said. His voice was small, but it didn't shake. “He said never wait for permission to fight back.”

“Your dad is a smart man.”

Leo pulled away slightly and reached into the pocket of his pajama pants.

“I found this,” Leo said. “When I was hiding under the stairs before that lady caught me.”

He held out his hand.

Sitting in his small palm was a heavy, silver pocket watch.

I recognized it immediately.

It belonged to Daniel. The head of security. I had seen him checking it every night when I logged out of my shift.

“He dropped it,” Leo said.

I took the watch.

The glass face was cracked.

I opened the latch.

Inside the cover, a tiny, folded piece of paper was wedged behind the metal backing.