Chapter 8 - The Night Hazel Disappeared
“Marianne!”
The vault sealed.
Damian hit the emergency release.
Nothing.
Marco examined the mechanism.
“External override.”
Hazel stared at the steel door.
“Why would she do this?”
Samuel had trusted Marianne.
Sarah had trusted her.
Apparently trust was the most dangerous currency in Chicago.
Marco found a maintenance panel.
Twenty minutes later, they escaped through a service tunnel.
The church was empty.
Marianne was gone.
So was their security team.
Outside, Damian found two guards unconscious but alive.
Marianne had drugged them.
Then Hazel’s phone rang.
Her own number appeared.
She answered.
Marianne spoke.
“I'm sorry.”
“Where are you?”
“Where Sarah told me to go if everything failed.”
“Why lock us in?”
“To keep Damian alive.”
Damian took the phone.
“Explain.”
“Someone wants you outside.”
“Who?”
“Your father’s last partner.”
“Vittorio had dozens.”
“Only one knew Elena survived the bombing.”
Damian froze.
Hazel stared at him.
“Elena survived?”
Marianne began crying.
“For eleven minutes.”
Damian closed his eyes.
“She was conscious?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
“Because her last words would have started a war.”
“What did she say?”
Marianne whispered:
“Michael Romano.”
Damian opened his eyes.
His uncle.
Michael had disappeared after Vittorio’s death.
He had supposedly moved to Sicily.
He had not.
Marianne explained that Michael had orchestrated the recent attacks.
Sullivan was merely another piece.
He wanted the archive destroyed.
He needed Hazel to locate it.
Now she had.
Damian looked toward the church.
“We need to move the files.”
A vehicle exploded.
The blast threw Hazel sideways.
Damian covered her.
Gunfire followed.
Marco returned fire.
“Move!”
They ran.
Smoke swallowed the street.
Hazel lost Damian’s hand for only a second.
A van door opened beside her.
Someone grabbed her.
A cloth covered her mouth.
She kicked.
Bit.
Fought.
Then darkness.
When Damian turned, Hazel was gone.
He became terrifyingly calm.
“Find the van.”
Marco had seen that calm before.
It was worse than rage.
For six hours, Damian dismantled every safe house Michael Romano had ever used.
Nothing.
Then Emily received a package.
Inside was Hazel’s maid headpiece.
Blood stained one edge.
Damian stared at it.
Emily grabbed his shirt.
“You bring her back.”
“I will.”
“Don't promise me because you're Damian Romano.”
He looked at her.
“Promise because she trusts you.”
Damian closed his hand around the white fabric.
“I promise.”
Hazel woke in a basement.
Catherine sat opposite her.
“You.”
Catherine smiled.
“Disappointed?”
“Constantly.”
Hazel’s wrists were tied.
“Michael wants the archive.”
“He already knows where it is.”
“He wants the master key.”
“I don't have it.”
Catherine leaned closer.
“Yes, you do.”
She pointed toward Hazel’s head.
“Sarah made sure you memorized it before you were old enough to know what it meant.”
Hazel remembered childhood games.
Numbers.
Books.
Songs.
Her mother had turned an encryption key into a bedtime ritual.
Catherine began reciting the first line.
Hazel recognized it.
She refused to finish.
Catherine slapped her.
Hazel tasted blood.
Still she remained silent.
Hours passed.
Then footsteps approached.
Catherine stood.
“Finally.”
The basement door opened.
Hazel expected Michael Romano.
Instead, Wyatt walked in.
Alive.
Uninjured.
And Catherine kissed him.
Hazel stared.
May you like
Wyatt looked directly at her.
Then he locked the door behind him.
