Chapter 6 - THE FIRE ESCAPE
“Drop the gun, Dominic,” Vincent ordered smoothly, clicking the silver lighter open and shut. “Or my men will shoot the maid first.”
Six laser sights painted red dots across my chest and Dominic’s back.
Dominic didn't hesitate. He tossed his weapon onto the thick carpet.
“Let Olivia go, Vincent,” Dominic said, raising his hands. “She has nothing to do with this. This is between you and me.”
Vincent chuckled. “She’s the reason this all unraveled tonight. If she had just kept her mouth shut about that stupid photograph, Madeline’s charity front would have cleared the rest of the funds by morning.”
Madeline smirked at me. “I told you nobody cares about a maid’s truth, Olivia.”
I stared at her, refusing to show fear. “My mother raised me to be honest. You were raised to be a thief.”
Madeline’s face flashed with anger. She raised her hand to slap me.
Before she could connect, Dominic moved.
He didn't reach for his gun. He grabbed the heavy, marble-topped coffee table beside him and flipped it violently upward, launching it directly at the two thugs nearest to us.
The marble shattered against their knees, sending them crashing to the floor.
“Run!” Dominic roared, grabbing my hand.
Gunfire erupted, shattering the penthouse windows.
Dominic dragged me toward the shattered glass doors of the balcony. We dove outside just as bullets chewed up the wall behind us.
“The fire escape!” Dominic pointed to the rusted iron stairs on the side of the building.
We scrambled over the railing. The freezing Chicago wind whipped my hair as we began the dizzying descent down forty flights of stairs.
I heard Vincent shouting orders from the balcony above.
“Don't let them reach the garage!”
We flew down the metal steps. My breath burned in my lungs. Dominic stayed right behind me, his body acting as a shield between me and the penthouse above.
When we reached the alleyway behind the hotel, we were completely out of breath.
“Are you hurt?” Dominic asked, gripping my shoulders, his eyes scanning me for blood.
“I’m okay,” I panted. “What do we do now? He has the ledger.”
Dominic pulled a burner phone from his jacket.
“Vincent thinks he outsmarted me. But he forgot one thing.”
Dominic dialed a number. “Marcus. It’s me.”
I gasped. “Marcus? But he betrayed you!”
Dominic held up a hand, silencing me, a small smirk playing on his lips.
“Is the package at Pier 42 secure?” Dominic asked into the phone.
“Yes, Boss,” Marcus’s voice crackled through the speaker. “The Romano freighter is surrounded. We’re just waiting for Vincent to arrive.”
Dominic hung up the phone. He looked at my shocked face.
“I didn't knock Marcus out at the mansion, Olivia,” Dominic explained. “I faked it. We staged the fight so Madeline would think Marcus was loyal to her. Marcus has been tracking her burner phone since she left the house.”
A massive wave of relief washed over me. Dominic was always three steps ahead.
“So we’re going to the docks?” I asked.
“No,” Dominic said, his expression darkening. “The police are going to the docks. Marcus just sent the anonymous tip. Vincent and Madeline are going to walk straight into a federal raid.”
“It’s over?” I asked, hardly daring to believe it.
“The business side is over,” Dominic said. “But there’s one more thing we need to retrieve.”
He led me down the alleyway to where he had hidden a secondary vehicle, an old, unassuming sedan.
As we drove away from the hotel, the sound of police sirens began to wail in the distance, converging on the Grand Azure and Pier 42.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Madeline didn't just steal my money,” Dominic said quietly. “When she went into my private safe, she took something else. A small, wooden box.”
“What’s in it?”
Dominic gripped the steering wheel. “My mother’s rosary. And the original deed to St. Andrew’s church.”
My eyes widened. “She had the deed all along?”
“My father bought the church’s debt twenty years ago to protect it from developers. I kept the deed in the safe. Madeline stole it to hand over to the Romanos.”
“Where did she put it?”
Dominic pulled the car up to an old, familiar building.
It was Madeline’s downtown philanthropic office. The headquarters of her fake foundation.
“She wouldn't bring it to Vincent,” Dominic deduced. “She wanted to keep leverage. She hid it here.”
We broke the glass on the back door and slipped inside the dark office.
The walls were lined with photos of Madeline at charity galas.
We searched her massive oak desk. Locked.
Dominic used a paperweight to smash the lock. He yanked the drawer open.
Inside was the small wooden box.
Dominic opened it. The beautiful pearl rosary was there, resting on top of the folded property deed.
He handed the deed to me.
“It belongs to your mother now,” Dominic said softly. “St. Andrew’s is safe forever.”
Tears welled in my eyes. I clutched the paper to my chest.
But as I looked down at the drawer, I noticed a second folder hidden beneath where the box had been.
It had my name on it. Olivia Bennett.
I pulled it out and opened it.
Inside was a birth certificate.
But it wasn't mine.
It was a certificate for a baby boy, born ten years ago.
The mother’s name was listed as Madeline Prescott.
May you like
The father’s name was blank.
But attached to the certificate was a DNA test result, confirming a 99.9% match to a man named Dominic Moretti.
