Chapter 6
Lorenzo’s hand inched slowly toward the heavy glass ashtray while Victor continued to speak, intoxicated by his own perceived victory. The security chief had underestimated him for years, viewing him as a relic of a dying era rather than the ruthless tactician who had built the empire from the ground up.
"You think a corporate buyout saves you from federal prison, Victor?" Lorenzo asked, stalling for time as his fingers brushed the cool, smooth surface of the glass. "The men you're dealing with don't share profits. They eliminate witnesses. You're handing them the keys to your own execution."
Victor’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, a micro-expression of doubt flashing across his hardened features. It was all the opening Lorenzo needed. With a sudden, explosive motion, Lorenzo hurled the heavy glass ashtray directly at the desk lamp, shattering the bulb and plunging the study into sudden, chaotic darkness.
Gunfire erupted instantly, the suppressed pistol spitting lead through the amber gloom. Wood splintered from the edge of the oak desk as a round buried itself deep into the mahogany. Elena screamed, a sharp, genuine sound of terror that was quickly cut off as Lorenzo grabbed her wrist, hauling her violently toward the bookshelf.
"Move! Now!" Lorenzo shouted over the sound of shouting voices and scrambling footsteps in the doorway.
He slammed his elbow against a decorative brass bookend, triggering the mechanical release of the hidden wall panel. The heavy bookshelf swung inward with a pneumatic hiss, revealing a dark, narrow utility stairwell that descended into the underground parking garage. Without hesitation, Lorenzo pushed Elena through the opening, following right behind her as another volley of silenced rounds chewed into the wooden frame of the secret door.
He reached back, slamming the manual override button on the inside wall. The heavy bookshelf sealed shut with a resounding thud, cutting off the amber light of the study and plunging them into absolute darkness. The air in the stairwell was cool and smelled of concrete and exhaust fumes. They were cut off from the penthouse, but they were still alive.
"Are you hit?" Lorenzo demanded, his hands gripping Elena’s shoulders as they stood panting in the pitch-black corridor.
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"No," she gasped, her hands trembling as she touched her face and arms to confirm her physical integrity. "I'm okay. But... Mia! Lorenzo, we left Mia in the living room!"
The blood drained from Lorenzo’s face. In the frantic rush to survive the ambush, the toddler had been left behind in the open expanse of the marble-floored penthouse, mere feet away from Victor and his armed men.
