Chapter 6 - THE COAT CHECK
Gunfire erupted, shattering the floor-to-ceiling windows. Freezing wind howled into the penthouse.
“Get down!” Alessandro roared, tackling Sophie behind the heavy mahogany desk. Splinters of wood showered over them as bullets tore into the furniture.
“Leo!” Sophie screamed, her heart stopping.
“He’s in the panic room with Maria! They’re safe!” Alessandro shouted over the deafening noise. He popped up, firing three precise shots. Two of the attackers dropped, clutching their chests.
But there were more coming through the smoke.
“We can’t stay here! If they corner us, we lose the ledger, and your father dies!” Alessandro grabbed Sophie’s hand. “Follow me!”
They crawled behind the long leather sofas until they reached the private elevator shaft. Alessandro jammed a keycard into the override panel. The doors slid open.
“Get in!” he shoved her inside, firing one last suppressing shot before diving in after her. The doors slammed shut just as bullets pinged against the steel.
The elevator plummeted to the basement garage.
Sophie was hyperventilating, her midnight-blue gown covered in drywall dust. Alessandro brushed the debris off her shoulders, his eyes fierce. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she lied, her hands shaking violently as she touched the diamond bracelet on her wrist. “But Camilla knows we’re alive. She’ll be at the auction.”
“She won't expect us to walk right through the front door,” Alessandro said grimly.
They reached the garage. Alessandro threw a tarp off a vintage Aston Martin. “Get in.”
They sped out into the rainy night, racing toward the Hamptons. During the tense drive, Sophie stared at the diamond bracelet. Her mother and Alessandro’s father. An old love, buried by political ambition, leaving their children to clean up a mafia war.
An hour later, they pulled up to the sprawling, lit-up estate of Marcus Vance.
Hundreds of luxury cars lined the driveway. Valets in white gloves rushed to open the doors.
“Listen to me,” Alessandro said, handing Sophie a long, elegant white fur coat from the trunk. “Put this on. I cannot walk in with you. Vance’s security knows my face, and Camilla’s men will shoot me on sight. You have to go in alone. Bid on the clock. Win it. Get the ledger.”
“Where will you be?” Sophie asked, panic fluttering in her chest.
“I’ll cut the security feed and disable the perimeter guards,” Alessandro said, his eyes intensely focused on hers. “I’ll meet you at the coat check in exactly thirty minutes. Do not talk to Camilla.”
Sophie nodded. She slipped the fur coat over her shoulders, instantly transforming into an untouchable elite.
She walked up the grand steps alone. The security guards at the door glanced at her dazzling diamond bracelet, nodded respectfully, and opened the doors.
The ballroom was breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers, champagne towers, and billionaires mingling in velvet suits. In the center of the room, standing on a raised velvet platform, was the antique French grandfather clock.
Sophie walked gracefully toward it, ignoring the stares of the men in the room. She kept her head high, the perfect diplomat’s daughter.
She approached the clock. Her eyes darted to the pendulum housing. It was intact. The ledger was still inside.
“It’s a magnificent piece, isn't it?” a slick, familiar voice said from behind her.
Sophie turned.
Standing there with a crystal glass of champagne was Marcus Vance. But as he looked at her face, his polite smile vanished.
He didn't see a mysterious heiress.
He knew exactly who she was.
May you like
Marcus Vance had been her father’s closest friend in the diplomatic corps. He was the man who had supposedly tried to help them when the gambling rumors started.
“My god,” Vance whispered, his eyes widening. “Sophie? Sophie Dubois? You’re supposed to be dead.”
