Chapter 4 - The Midnight Audit
The high-heeled clicks above us paused directly over the hidden trapdoor.
I held my breath, my fingers instinctively tightening around Emma’s small shoulder, pulling her flat against my side behind the heavy metal shelving unit. Lorenzo’s eyes locked onto the overhead oak panels, his right hand sliding slowly toward a heavy iron wrench lying near a toolbox on the floor.
"Check the floorboards," Elena’s voice drifted down, muffled but distinct. "My husband stored his private logs somewhere in this shed before he died. Julian needs the encryption keys before the board meeting at dawn."
A sharp rap echoed against the wood—tap, tap, tap—right above our heads.
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. If they lifted the potting bench, they would see the fresh scratches on the dirt floor, the disturbed earth where we had scrambled down the stairs just minutes ago.
Then, another voice answered from the doorway.
"Mrs. Duca, the perimeter gates have been secured. But the local police received an anonymous tip about a disturbance near the north wall. A patrol cruiser is turning onto the estate drive right now."
Elena hissed a sharp curse. "Damn it. Clear the grounds. Make it look like a routine security check. If the police find us out here while Lorenzo’s body is missing, the entire transition plan falls apart."
The high-heeled clicks pivoted, tapping rapidly toward the shed door as the guards fell in step behind her. Within moments, the distant rumble of a police cruiser’s engine idling on the gravel driveway filtered through the damp earth above.
I let out a long, shuddering exhale, leaning my head back against the cold metal shelf.
"That was close," I murmured.
"Too close," Lorenzo said, his face contorted in pain as he tried to shift his weight away from his injured side. He looked at me, his dark gaze piercing through the dim yellow light of the vault. "You saved my life twice in twenty minutes, Ms. Mercer. Or whatever your real last name is."
"It’s Hayes. And I didn't save you out of loyalty to the Duca family," I retorted sharply, keeping my voice low so as not to frighten Emma, who was quietly playing with her stuffed rabbit's single button eye. "I saved you because my daughter was standing in the middle of a crime scene, and I happen to prefer my employers alive long enough to sign my weekly paycheck."
A faint, grim smile touched his lips. "You have a remarkable sense of self-preservation for someone holding a bleeding mob boss in her arms."
"Survival training tends to sharpen the priorities," I replied, standing up and walking over to the mahogany desk. I picked up the silver flash drive that Emma had discovered earlier. "You mentioned your uncle Julian and your mother are planning a corporate takeover disguised as a family tragedy. What's on this drive?"
Lorenzo’s expression darkened. "Everything. Financial ledgers, offshore shell company routing numbers, and the encrypted voting proxies for the entire Duca Holdings board. If Julian has those by sunrise, he legally absorbs my voting shares under the 'Emergency Incapacity Clause' of the family charter."
"Meaning you’re worth more to them dead than alive," I said.
"Exactly." He winced as he gripped the edge of the metal shelf to pull himself to his feet. I hurried over, sliding my shoulder beneath his left arm to bear his weight. "We need to get to the main house."
"Are you insane?" I hissed, stopping dead in my tracks. "Your mother and her guards are swarming the estate, and the police are currently parked outside the front doors. Walking back into that mansion is suicide."
"It’s the only place with an encrypted satellite terminal," Lorenzo countered, his voice steady despite the pale sweat beading on his forehead. "If we don't upload the contents of this vault to the federal SEC database before ten o'clock tomorrow morning, Julian officially takes control of the syndicate—and the first thing he’ll do is clean house. Starting with every employee on the estate payroll."
The implication hung in the damp air between us like a physical weight.
May you like
My job, my home, my safety, and—most importantly—Emma’s future depended entirely on whether the man leaning against my shoulder could reclaim his empire before dawn.
"Fine," I said, tightening my grip around his waist. "We go back in. But we do it my way."
