Chapter 7 - The Safehouse on Lake Michigan
The sound of automatic gunfire shattered the quiet morning.
Lily gasped, dropping her puzzle pieces. “Claire! What’s that sound?”
“It’s okay, sweetie!” I threw my arms around Lily, pulling her down behind the heavy mahogany desk.
Elena Vance kicked the balcony door open and raised her rifle. “Daniel! Report!”
“They bypassed the main gate with fake syndicate clearance codes!” Daniel’s voice screamed over the comms amid loud bursts of gunfire. “They’re targeting the east wing! They want the girl!”
“They’re desperate,” Elena cursed, racking the bolt of her rifle. “Vanessa’s father knows Luca is at the tribunal. They’re trying to take Lily as a hostage to force an exchange!”
Two loud thuds echoed from the lower stairs—breach charges. The house security system blared a continuous, deafening alarm: WARNING. PERIMETER COMPROMISED.
“Claire!” Elena yelled over the noise. “Take Lily through the laundry chute to the sub-tunnel! Now!”
“What about you?” I cried, holding Lily tightly against my chest.
“I owe Sarah my life!” Elena shouted, firing two precise shots through the hallway door as two masked men attempted to storm the upper landing. “Move!”
I grabbed Lily’s hand. “Run, Lily! Follow me!”
We sprinted through the master bedroom toward the hidden maintenance corridor. Lily was crying, but she kept running, clutching her mother’s red sweater with one hand and my fingers with the other.
Behind us, gunshots rattled the walls. Plaster exploded from the ceiling.
We reached the entrance to the underground evacuation tunnel—a heavy steel door hidden behind a bookshelf. I punched in the emergency code Luca had given me earlier: 0-2-1-4.
The lock clicked green. I pulled Lily inside and slammed the door shut just as footsteps pounded down the hallway.
We were in a narrow, dimly lit concrete passage that led down toward the private boat dock at the base of the lake cliff. The air smelled of damp earth and cold water.
“Claire, I’m scared!” Lily sobbed, her little legs trembling.
“I know, baby, I know,” I whispered, pulling her into my arms and carrying her down the metal stairs. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.”
Suddenly, the tunnel door at the bottom of the stairs swung open.
I froze. My heart leaped into my throat.
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Standing at the boat slip was not Luca’s men. It was Marco Bellini—Vanessa’s younger brother—holding a silenced pistol, his face twisted in a smug, venomous grin.
“Well, well,” Marco sneered, pointing the gun directly at my chest. “The sentimental little maid. Hand over the brat, and maybe I’ll let you bleed out slowly.”
