Chapter 2 - The Men in the Elevator

The elevator chimed again.

Dante moved before the doors opened.

He stepped into the sunroom, closed the door behind him, and locked it.

Serena spun around.

Her face went white.

“Dante.”

Patricia stared at the crumpled envelope in his hand.

Then at the pistol beneath his jacket.

“You heard us.”

“Yes.”

Serena looked at the divorce papers.

Her expression broke.

Dante saw it.

But there was no time.

“How many men?”

Patricia swallowed.

“I don’t know.”

“Carlo’s?”

“Yes.”

“Your husband’s?”

Her silence answered.

Serena stepped toward Dante.

“The night captain is compromised.”

“I know.”

“You need to leave.”

“No.”

“Dante—”

He looked at her.

“You just offered to die with me.”

Serena froze.

His voice softened for half a second.

“I’m not rewarding that by leaving you here.”

Heavy footsteps entered the hallway.

Dante turned to Patricia.

“Service exit?”

She shook her head.

“Watched.”

“Roof?”

“Carlo has men there.”

Dante looked around the room.

One door.

Three windows.

Twenty-eight floors above Chicago.

Bad choices.

Then Serena spoke.

“The library passage.”

Dante looked at her.

“What passage?”

“My father showed me before the wedding.”

Patricia stared.

“Serena.”

She ignored her.

“There is a maintenance corridor behind the east bookcase. It connects to the old freight stairwell.”

Dante’s expression changed.

“You knew there was a hidden corridor in my home?”

“My father knew.”

“Of course he did.”

A knock came at the sunroom door.

Three times.

Polite.

Then a man’s voice.

“Mrs. Romano?”

Patricia stopped breathing.

Carlo Esposito.

Dante’s hand tightened around the pistol.

Carlo continued.

“Open the door.”

Serena whispered:

“He came himself.”

Dante looked at Patricia.

“Why?”

She began crying.

“Because Vincent doesn’t trust anyone else to finish this.”

Serena stared at her mother.

“You knew he would come?”

“I knew Carlo was leading it.”

“You came here to take me away.”

“Yes.”

“And leave Dante.”

Patricia closed her eyes.

“Yes.”

The doorknob moved.

Carlo spoke again.

“Serena.”

Dante’s eyes narrowed.

“He knows she’s here.”

Patricia whispered:

“Her father told him.”

Serena looked sick.

Dante took her hand.

She flinched automatically.

Then stopped.

For three years, she had taught her body to retreat from him.

Tonight she forced herself not to.

Dante noticed.

He did not let go.

“Show me the passage.”

Serena led them toward the library.

A gunshot exploded through the sunroom lock.

Patricia screamed.

Dante pulled both women down.

Another shot.

Wood splintered.

He fired once through the lower panel.

A man shouted outside.

Then silence.

Dante looked at Serena.

“Move.”

They ran.

The library was dark.

Serena reached behind a shelf of law books.

Pressed a hidden latch.

Nothing.

Her face changed.

“It should open.”

Footsteps entered the sunroom.

Dante pushed beside her.

“Again.”

She pressed harder.

The bookcase clicked.

A narrow black corridor appeared.

Patricia stared.

“I never knew this was here.”

Serena looked at her mother.

“That was the point.”

Dante ushered Patricia inside.

Serena followed.

He entered last.

Before closing the panel, he looked back.

Carlo stepped into the library.

Their eyes met across the room.

Carlo smiled.

“Divorce night?”

Dante looked at the envelope still crushed in his hand.

Then at Serena.

“No.”

He shut the panel.

Darkness swallowed them.

From the other side, Carlo laughed.

Then said:

“Good.”

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A pause.

“Because Vincent needs his daughter married until midnight.”