THE SECRET IN THE STAIRCASE

The blood drained completely from Hannah’s face.

“Where is my father?” she screamed into the phone, her hands shaking so violently she nearly dropped it.

Answer one: The Petrovs hadn't just attacked the Moretti estate. They had simultaneously sent a team to Daniel Brooks’s apartment in the South Side.

“Your father is currently sitting in his kitchen,” the Russian voice purred over the line. “He fought surprisingly well for a blind man. He broke one of my men’s jaws with a wrench. But age catches up to us all.”

“If you touch him, I swear to God—” Luca stepped closer to the phone, his voice a low, terrifying rumble.

“Ah, Luca Moretti,” the Russian interrupted smoothly. “I was hoping you were listening. My name is Nikolai Petrov.”

Luca’s jaw clenched. Nikolai was the underboss of the Petrov syndicate, a man known for his surgical cruelty.

“You broke the truce, Nikolai,” Luca said coldly.

“No, Luca. You broke the truce,” Nikolai corrected. “Seventeen years ago, your father sold us a woman. We kept our end of the bargain. But tonight, someone triggered the fail-safe in the clock. That was the signal that the Moretti family was reneging on the deal and coming for the woman.”

“It was an accident,” Luca said. “The girl was cleaning the clock. She didn't know about the fail-safe.”

Nikolai laughed softly. “An accident? How convenient. But the Petrovs do not believe in accidents. We believe in insurance. So, we have taken an insurance policy of our own.”

Open two: What kind of insurance policy? And if they have Daniel, what are they waiting for?

“I have the transfer deed,” Luca said, pulling the manila envelope from his pocket. “I have the map to your compound in Upstate New York. If you kill Daniel Brooks, I will hand these documents over to the FBI. They will raid your permanent holding facility before dawn.”

There was a brief pause on the line.

“You bluff well, Moretti,” Nikolai said. “But we both know you won't involve the Feds. If they raid the compound, Sarah Brooks will likely be killed in the crossfire.”

Hannah let out a small, terrified gasp.

“Here is the new deal,” Nikolai continued. “You want the clockmaker back? You bring the documents—the original deeds and the map—to the old shipyard in Brooklyn tomorrow night at midnight. Come alone. Hand over the papers, and I hand over the blind man.”

“And Sarah?” Hannah demanded.

“Sarah Brooks is Petrov property,” Nikolai said simply. “She is not part of this negotiation.”

The line went dead.

Hannah stared at the phone, tears streaming down her face. She looked at Luca, absolute desperation in her eyes.

“We have to go to Brooklyn,” she pleaded. “We have to give them the papers.”

“If we give them the papers, we lose our only leverage to get your mother back,” Luca said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “And knowing Nikolai, he’ll kill your father the second he has the documents.”

“Then what do we do?” Hannah cried, the reality of the situation crushing her. “My father is blind. He’s alone with them.”

Luca looked at the map in his hand. His dark eyes hardened.

“We don't negotiate,” Luca said. “We divide and conquer.”

He turned to his security chief.

“Marcus, take half the men. Fly to Brooklyn. Set up a perimeter around the shipyard. When Nikolai brings Daniel for the exchange tomorrow night, you hit them with everything you have. Do not let them leave with the clockmaker.”

“Yes, Boss,” Marcus nodded, already pulling out his phone to coordinate the strike team. “What about you?”

“I’m taking the other half of the men,” Luca said, looking at the hand-drawn map of the Adirondacks compound. “While Nikolai is focused on the exchange in Brooklyn, his permanent holding facility upstate will be lightly guarded.”

Luca turned to Hannah.

“I am going to get your mother.”

Hannah shook her head immediately. “No. I’m going with you.”

“It’s too dangerous, Hannah,” Luca said firmly. “It’s a heavily fortified compound. You aren't trained for this.”

“She’s my mother!” Hannah fired back, her voice ringing with fierce defiance. “My father went blind keeping this secret. She gave up her life for me. I am not sitting in a safehouse while you go get her.”

Luca stared at her. He saw the same unbreakable resolve he had seen when she refused to back down about the clock at dinner.

“Fine,” Luca agreed softly. “You come with me. But you stay behind me at all times.”

He turned to Patricia Voss, who was still trembling by the grandfather clock.

“And you,” Luca said to the household manager. “You brokered the original deal seventeen years ago. You know the layout of the compound.”

“I’ve never been inside!” Patricia protested.

“Then you’ll learn,” Luca said, grabbing her arm and hauling her toward the door.

Two hours later, Luca, Hannah, Patricia, and a team of heavily armed Moretti guards boarded a private jet at O'Hare.

The flight to New York was tense and silent. Hannah stared out the window into the darkness, clutching her mother’s gold wedding band in her palm.

When they landed at a private airstrip in Upstate New York, it was three in the morning. A fleet of black SUVs was waiting for them, arranged by Luca’s East Coast associates.

They drove deep into the Adirondack Mountains, the winding roads enveloped in thick, freezing fog.

Finally, the lead SUV cut its headlights.

They rolled to a stop at the edge of a dense pine forest.

Through the trees, illuminated by harsh floodlights, was the Petrov compound.

It wasn't a house. It was a concrete fortress surrounded by twelve-foot razor-wire fences. Guard towers stood at two corners, manned by snipers.

“There’s no way in,” one of Luca’s guards whispered, looking through a thermal scope. “The front gate is reinforced steel. If we blow it, they’ll execute the prisoners before we even reach the main building.”

Luca frowned, studying the layout. He turned to Patricia.

“You brokered the deal,” Luca said quietly. “How did they bring the prisoners inside without going through the front gate?”

Patricia hesitated, her eyes darting nervously toward the sniper towers.

“I don't know,” she lied.

Luca pulled his gun and pressed the barrel against Patricia’s knee. “Try again.”

Patricia gasped, tears of fear springing to her eyes.

“The drainage pipe!” she rushed out. “There’s an old industrial drainage pipe that runs from the nearby river directly into the basement of the facility. They use it to move high-value targets quietly.”

Luca lowered the gun. He looked at Hannah, then gestured toward the river down the embankment.