Chapter 3 - The King in the Backseat
The bridge tunnel was nearly empty.
Snow had shut down half the city, but Dominic Varela’s enemies had not gone home. Two SUVs followed them into the tunnel, headlights bright and merciless in the darkness.
Mara’s hands slipped on the steering wheel.
“I can’t lose them,” she said.
“You don’t need to lose them,” Dominic replied through clenched teeth. “You need to survive them.”
“That is not helpful.”
“It is honest.”
Emma was silent in the passenger seat, hugging herself beneath her coat. Every few seconds, she turned to look at Mara, trying not to cry.
Mara forced a smile.
“You’re doing great, sweetheart.”
“You too,” Emma whispered.
A bullet cracked against the rear windshield.
Emma screamed.
The glass spiderwebbed but held.
Mara ducked instinctively and nearly drove into the tunnel wall.
“Keep your eyes ahead,” Dominic ordered.
“Someone is shooting at my child!”
“Yes. Which is why you cannot panic.”
Mara wanted to hate him for sounding so controlled. She wanted to throw him out into the snow and erase this nightmare from her life.
But the men hunting him were the same men who had put a gun beneath her chin.
The same men who had taken Emma.
“Who are they?” she asked.
“Men who used to work for me.”
“Used to?”
“Tonight, they chose another future.”
A second shot hit the trunk.
Dominic leaned forward, bloodless now.
“There’s a maintenance ramp ahead. Take it.”
“It says authorized vehicles only.”
“Mrs. Hayes.”
She took it.
The sedan tore through a narrow service lane, tires shrieking. Behind them, one SUV followed. The other two were forced to brake at the sudden turn.
For three breathless seconds, Mara thought they had a chance.
Then the SUV behind them rammed the rear bumper.
Emma cried out.
Mara’s vision narrowed.
The car fishtailed.
Dominic reached forward from the backseat, one hand gripping the headrest despite his wound.
“Left. Now.”
Mara turned hard.
The SUV slid past them on black ice, slammed sideways into a concrete barrier, and disappeared in a shower of sparks.
Mara did not stop.
She drove until the tunnel opened onto the far side of the river, where abandoned warehouses sat beneath thick drifts of snow.
“Where now?” she asked.
Dominic’s breathing had become ragged.
“Pier Twelve.”
“That’s twenty minutes away.”
“Then drive faster.”
“You’re bleeding to death.”
“I’ve had worse nights.”
Mara looked in the mirror.
“You are absolutely insane.”
For the first time, something almost human touched his expression.
“So I’ve been told.”
At Pier Twelve, a rusted metal gate opened before they reached it.
Men in dark coats rushed from an old warehouse. Several carried weapons. Mara flinched, pulling Emma closer as soon as the car stopped.
A broad-shouldered man with a scar along his jaw opened the rear door.
“Boss.”
“Voss,” Dominic said, his voice weak but commanding. “Secure the perimeter.”
The man looked at Mara and Emma.
“Who are they?”
“The reason I’m still breathing.”
Voss stared at Mara with suspicion.
Mara stared back.
“Your boss said he knew my name,” she said. “And now my daughter is being hunted because of him.”
Dominic’s eyes closed briefly.
“Bring them inside.”
The warehouse had been transformed into something between a fortress and a hospital. Armed guards stood at every entrance. A doctor worked quickly over Dominic’s wound while Mara sat on a worn leather couch, holding Emma in her lap.
No one had offered them food, water, or answers.
Finally, Dominic emerged from the medical room with fresh bandages beneath a black shirt. He walked slowly, but his posture was straight.
He looked like a man who refused to let death inconvenience him.
Mara stood.
“You have five minutes,” she said.
“Five minutes?”
“To explain why my husband died, why men are after my child, and why you knew my name.”
Voss stepped forward. “Watch your tone.”
Dominic raised a hand.
“No,” he said. “She has earned the right.”
He sat across from Mara, exhaustion carved deep into his face.
“Your husband, Elias, did pour concrete,” he said. “But he was also hired to repair foundation work beneath several properties owned by men in my organization.”
Mara crossed her arms.
“You said he copied a ledger.”
“He did.”
“Why?”
“Because he discovered money being moved through construction contracts. Millions. Money that was not mine.”
Mara stared at him.
“You’re telling me my husband found corruption inside the mafia?”
“I am telling you he found a betrayal inside my family.”
Dominic’s voice hardened.
“My nephew, Luca Varela, has been stealing from me for years. He used Elias’s work sites to hide records and payments.”
“And Elias?”
“Elias intended to come to me.”
Mara laughed once, bitterly.
“He never mentioned your name.”
“Because he was afraid.”
“He was killed in a construction accident.”
“No.” Dominic looked directly into her eyes. “He was murdered.”
The words struck harder than the gun beneath her chin.
Mara swayed.
Emma grabbed her hand.
“My daddy?” the little girl asked softly.
Mara knelt, pulling her close.
“Yes, baby,” she whispered, though her voice shook. “But we’re going to find out the truth.”
Dominic watched them in silence.
Then Mara looked up.
“What did Elias leave?”
Dominic reached into his coat and placed a small brass key on the table.
“Something Luca has been searching for.”
Mara recognized it instantly.
It was the key to the old storage locker Elias had rented beneath the Blackwater Grand Hotel.
May you like
The locker Mara had never known existed.
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