Chapter 4 - The Secrets of Geneva
The room seemed to drop ten degrees in an instant.
Emily stared at the photograph, her mind spinning into a chaotic vortex. "Geneva? No... my mother lived in Chicago her whole life! She worked at Cook County Hospital!"
"She moved to Chicago twenty-four years ago," Dominic corrected softly, his voice heavy with dark intelligence. "She changed her name from Sarah Vance to Sarah Parker. She fled Europe because she stole something from Viktor Rostova's father."
Emily shook her head rapidly. "No! My mother was a good woman! She was a nurse! She spent her life helping poor people!"
"She stole a biological ledger," Dominic explained, leaning back in his chair. "A list of every dirty politician, judge, and cartel boss who bought illegal medical treatments and organ transfers through the Rostova network. For twenty-four years, Viktor Rostova searched for Sarah Vance. He never found her."
Dominic looked directly into Emily’s eyes.
"Until two nights ago," he whispered. "When you used your mother’s unique emergency nursing techniques—the specific way you warmed Grace’s sweet milk and applied pressure to her brachial points—in front of Cole, my traitorous security guard."
Emily felt as if the ground had opened up beneath her.
Cole. The guard who had been broadcasting Dominic’s location. The guard who had watched her save the girls in the diner kitchen.
"Cole wasn't just leaking Dominic's location," Emily realized, her voice trembling. "He was sending video footage of the diner kitchen back to Rostova."
"Correct," Dominic said. "Rostova’s medical team recognized Sarah Vance’s signature revival protocol instantly. They realized the girl who saved my daughters was the daughter of the woman who stole their billion-dollar ledger."
Emily dropped her head into her hands. A heavy, suffocating weight pressed down on her chest.
She hadn't just accidentally stumbled into a mafia war. Her entire life—her mother's secrecy, their constant moving when she was a child, her mother's terror whenever police cars passed their house—was connected to the very monsters who had kidnapped Dominic’s children.
A warm, heavy hand covered hers.
Emily looked up. Dominic had stood up and walked around the table. He was towering over her, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand.
"Do not bow your head, Emily," Dominic commanded, his voice filled with fierce, dark pride. "Your mother was a hero who defied a syndicate. And you are the woman who saved my blood."
"They're going to kill me," Emily whispered honestly. "They destroyed my home. They know who I am."
"They will have to walk over my dead body first," Dominic swore, his voice rumbling like thunder in his chest. "Marcus!"
The study door opened instantly. Marcus stepped inside. "Don Dominic?"
"Set up an interrogation session in the sub-basement," Dominic ordered, his eyes never leaving Emily's face. "Cole is going to tell us where Rostova's primary Chicago stronghold is. And Miss Parker is coming with me."
Marcus looked shocked. "Boss? Taking her to the interrogation cell?"
"Cole knows what Sarah Parker hid," Dominic said coldly. "And Emily is going to look him in the eye when he talks."
Fifteen minutes later, Emily found herself descending deep beneath the estate into a concrete bunker that smelled of damp stone and ozone.
In the center of a brightly lit room, Cole was strapped securely to an iron chair. His face was bruised, his dark coat gone, his hands bound with thick zip-ties.
When the heavy steel door opened and Dominic walked in with Emily at his side, Cole looked up. Panic flared in his eyes.
"Don Dominic... please," Cole begged, his voice hoarse. "I was forced! Rostova has my sister!"
Dominic didn't answer. He walked over to a metal table, picked up a pair of heavy leather gloves, and pulled them onto his broad hands with slow, agonizing deliberation.
The sheer aura of violence surrounding Dominic was terrifying, yet Emily noticed something profound: as Dominic stepped between her and Cole, his posture was entirely defensive of her. He was a monster to his enemies, but a shield to her.
"Where is the ledger, Cole?" Dominic asked calmly.
"I don't know!" Cole wept. "Rostova said Sarah Vance hid the hard copy in a safety deposit box at First Chicago Bank! He thought Emily had the key!"
Dominic turned his gaze onto Emily.
Emily’s mind raced. A key?
Suddenly, a memory flashed through her mind. Her mother’s silver cremation urn sitting on the mantelpiece of her old apartment before it burned... No, not the urn. The silver chain her mother had worn around her neck until the day she died.
A chain with a tiny, silver skeleton key that Emily had tucked inside her own thrift-store coat pocket two nights ago.
Emily reached into her sweater pocket. Her fingers brushed against the cold metal key.
"I have it," Emily whispered.
Cole’s eyes went wide.
Dominic turned slowly, looking at the small silver key in Emily’s palm.
Before anyone could speak, the concrete bunker vibrated violently.
BOOM!
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A massive explosion rocked the upper levels of the estate. Dust rained down from the concrete ceiling. Emergency red lights flashed on, and sirens began to wail throughout the bunker.
Marcus’s radio screamed with panic: "DON DOMINIC! HEAVY ASSAULT AT THE MAIN GATE! ROSTOVA’S STRIKE TEAM IS INSIDE THE PERIMETER! THEY HAVE HEAVY WEAPONS!"
