Chapter 7 - THE LIGHTER IN THE PANIC ROOM
Isabella stumbled backward, her hand flying to her mouth.
“Vanessa,” she breathed in disbelief.
“I told Luca I stole an SUV,” Vanessa’s voice purred through the intercom. “I knew he’d chase the ghost. He’s halfway to the quarry by now, looking for a car that sank into the mud four years ago.”
My heart hammered violently against my ribs.
Sophie stirred in my lap, her eyes fluttering open. “Emma? What’s wrong?”
“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” I whispered, pulling her tighter against my chest.
I looked at the heavy steel door. It was bomb-proof. Vanessa couldn’t get in unless we opened it.
“We aren’t opening the door, Vanessa!” Isabella shouted, trying to sound braver than she looked. “Luca took all his men. You’re alone out there!”
A sharp, cruel laugh crackled through the speaker.
“I’m not alone, sweetie,” Vanessa replied. “I have Marco. And I have three of Daniel’s men who stayed behind. They’re setting explosive charges on the hinges of this door right now.”
Isabella and I locked eyes in pure panic.
“You want to die in a steel box, Isabella?” Vanessa taunted. “Or do you want to open the door and hand over the girl?”
“Why do you want Sophie?” I yelled toward the intercom.
“Because Luca is a stubborn man,” Vanessa answered calmly. “If I run, he will hunt me to the ends of the earth. But if I have his daughter… he will sign over the legitimate businesses, empty the offshore accounts, and let me walk away forever.”
A loud clack echoed against the metal door.
Someone was attaching a charge.
“Ten seconds, ladies,” Vanessa said.
Isabella looked at me, tears streaming down her face. “Emma, if they blow the door, the concussion in this small room will kill Sophie.”
She was right. The shockwave in a concrete panic room would be lethal.
“Okay!” Isabella screamed at the intercom. “Okay! We’re opening it!”
“No!” I grabbed Isabella’s arm.
“Emma, we have to!”
“If we give them Sophie, they’ll kill us anyway to eliminate witnesses,” I whispered fiercely.
“Then what do we do?!”
I looked around the small, sterile room. There was a bench. A first aid kit. A water dispenser. And an emergency supply cabinet.
I set Sophie gently on the floor. “Hide under the bench, sweetie. Cover your ears. Do not come out.”
Sophie crawled under the steel bench, curling into a tiny ball, sobbing quietly.
I ran to the emergency cabinet and tore it open. Flare guns. Flashlights. Blankets. And a small, red emergency fire extinguisher.
I pulled the extinguisher off the wall.
“Isabella,” I said, handing her a heavy metal flashlight. “When I open the door, hit the floor. Don’t hesitate.”
Isabella gripped the flashlight, nodding terrified agreement.
“Five seconds!” Vanessa called out.
I stepped to the door. I placed my hand on the heavy steel deadbolt.
I pulled the safety pin out of the fire extinguisher.
I yanked the deadbolt back and shoved the heavy door open.
As the door swung outward, I saw three armed men standing in the hallway, weapons raised. Vanessa stood behind them, a smug smile on her face.
I squeezed the trigger of the fire extinguisher.
A massive, blinding cloud of thick white chemical foam erupted into the narrow hallway.
The men shouted in surprise, raising their arms to block the spray. The foam hit them straight in the eyes, choking the air.
“Down!” I screamed at Isabella.
Isabella hit the deck.
One of the men fired his gun blindly into the cloud. The bullet ricocheted off the steel doorframe, missing me by an inch.
I swung the heavy metal canister of the extinguisher like a baseball bat, slamming it directly into the side of the closest man’s head. He crumpled to the floor.
Isabella didn’t stay on the ground. She scrambled forward, sweeping her leg out and knocking the second man off his feet.
As he fell, Isabella brought the heavy metal flashlight down hard on his wrist. He screamed, dropping his weapon.
The third man wiped the foam from his eyes and aimed his gun directly at my chest.
Before he could pull the trigger, a gunshot rang out from the end of the hallway.
The third man gasped, dropping his gun, and collapsed.
Through the clearing white smoke, I saw Marco standing against the wall, clutching a bleeding shoulder, holding a smoking pistol.
Vanessa stood alone in the center of the hallway.
Her men were down. Her plan had failed.
She looked at Marco, then at me.
She turned and ran toward the basement stairs.
“I’ll get her!” Isabella yelled, sprinting after the woman who had ruined her life.
“Isabella, no!” I shouted, but she was already gone.
I dropped the empty fire extinguisher and ran back into the panic room.
I pulled Sophie from under the bench. She clung to my neck, burying her face in my shoulder.
“You’re safe, baby. You’re safe,” I whispered, carrying her out into the hallway.
Marco groaned, sliding down the wall. “Emma… call Luca.”
I found a landline on the wall and dialed Luca’s cell. He answered on the first ring.
“Emma? Are you okay?” he shouted over the sound of a roaring car engine.
“She’s here, Luca! Vanessa tricked you. She tried to take Sophie.”
I heard the screech of tires as Luca presumably whipped the SUV around in the middle of the road.
“Is Sophie safe?” he demanded.
“Yes. Marco shot her men. But Isabella chased Vanessa upstairs.”
“I’m five minutes away,” Luca swore. “Keep Sophie in the basement.”
He hung up.
I sat with Marco, pressing a towel to his shoulder, waiting in agonizing suspense.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the floor above us.
Then, a woman screamed.
It was Isabella.
I couldn’t stay in the basement.
“Stay with Marco,” I told Sophie, setting her gently on the floor.
I grabbed the dropped gun from one of the unconscious men and ran up the stairs.
I burst into the main foyer.
The front doors were wide open. The rain blew in, soaking the marble floors.
I ran outside into the storm.
On the edge of the circular driveway, near the heavy iron gates, Vanessa and Isabella were struggling in the mud.
Vanessa had Isabella pinned to the ground, her hands wrapped tightly around Isabella’s throat.
I raised the gun. My hands were shaking so violently I could barely hold it steady.
“Vanessa!” I screamed over the rain. “Let her go!”
Vanessa didn’t stop. Isabella was gagging, her eyes rolling back.
I squeezed the trigger.
Click.
The gun was empty.
Vanessa turned her head. She saw me standing there with the useless weapon. She smiled, turning back to finish choking Isabella.
Suddenly, a blinding pair of headlights swept through the iron gates.
Luca’s SUV roared into the driveway, skidding sideways across the wet gravel.
Before the car even stopped, Luca threw the door open and launched himself into the storm.
He didn’t use a gun. He didn’t hesitate.
He grabbed Vanessa by the hair and hurled her backward, away from his sister.
Vanessa hit the gravel hard, scrambling away like a trapped animal.
Luca knelt beside Isabella, rolling her onto her side. She gasped violently for air, coughing up rainwater.
“I’ve got you,” Luca said softly, his massive body shielding her from the rain.
Vanessa staggered to her feet. She looked around frantically, realizing she was completely surrounded.
Luca stood up slowly. He walked toward Vanessa.
The rain plastered his dark hair to his forehead. His eyes were black and soulless.
“It’s over, Vanessa,” Luca said.
Vanessa backed up against the iron gate. She let out a manic, broken laugh.
“You think you won?” she screamed. “You think saving your junkie sister makes you the hero?!”
She reached into the pocket of her soaking wet dress and pulled out a small, silver object.
She held it up in the headlights of the SUV.
It was a silver lighter. Engraved with a crest.
“Do you know what this is, Luca?” Vanessa smiled wickedly. “It’s the lighter Daniel used to burn the documents Elena was carrying the night she died.”
Luca stopped walking.
“What documents?”
Vanessa’s smile widened.
“The will, Luca. Your father’s real will.”
She flicked the lighter open.
“You really thought I orchestrated all of this on my own? A twenty-five-year-old appraiser outsmarting the Moretti syndicate?”
She laughed again.
“Ask yourself, Luca. Who hired me to appraise your mother’s house? Who ordered Daniel to kill your wife?”
She pointed the silver lighter directly at Luca.
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“Your father didn’t die of a heart attack six years ago. He was murdered. By the same man who is sitting in your study right now, waiting for me to bring him your daughter.”
TITLE: The Man In The Study
