Chapter 3 - The Sister at Pier Forty
The warehouse at Pier Forty was empty.
Too empty.
Vincent knew it before the vehicle stopped.
Men had cleared the area in a hurry.
The smell of bleach floated through the rain.
Rafael looked toward him.
“Trap.”
Vincent nodded.
Elena stared through the window.
“My sister's car.”
The vehicle sat beneath a broken light.
Doors open.
Driver's seat empty.
One shoe rested on the pavement.
Elena began shaking.
Vincent placed a hand on the back of the seat.
“Stay inside.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“That shoe is hers.”
She opened the door.
Vincent caught her wrist.
She flinched.
He immediately released her.
“Sorry.”
She looked at him.
“You didn't hurt me.”
He stepped back.
“Then wait until I clear it.”
She nodded.
Vincent exited with four men.
Within seconds, gunfire erupted.
Elena screamed.
Rafael pulled open her door.
“Down!”
Bullets struck the vehicle.
Vincent disappeared behind a concrete barrier.
Minutes later, the shooting stopped.
Silence.
Then Vincent returned.
“Stay here.”
He opened the warehouse door.
Elena followed anyway.
Inside, she found blood.
And on a metal chair sat her sister's handbag.
She rushed toward it.
Vincent stopped her.
“Don't touch.”
Elena froze.
He pointed.
A tiny camera sat inside the bag.
“She's alive.”
“How do you know?”
“Because whoever did this wanted us to find the bag.”
A phone inside it rang.
Everyone froze.
Vincent answered.
A man's voice came through.
“Mr. Moretti.”
Vincent said nothing.
“Your reputation is impressive.”
“Your timing isn't.”
The man laughed.
“Bring Elena to the Blackthorn rooftop tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you to choose between her and the evidence.”
The call ended.
Elena's face went pale.
“They have her.”
Vincent stared at the phone.
“Yes.”
“Then we trade.”
“No.”
“She is my sister.”
“And you're the target.”
He looked at Rafael.
“Get every camera from the pier.”
Then he turned to Elena.
“Your sister is alive.”
“How do you know?”
“Because dead people don't make useful bargaining chips.”
She stared at him.
“That sounds cruel.”
“It is.”
He stepped closer.
“I'm not going to pretend this world is gentle.”
Elena's eyes filled.
“I've lived in his world for two years.”
Vincent's expression softened.
“You lived beside it.”
He looked at her bruises.
“Now you're out.”
They returned to the hotel.
Vincent's investigators recovered footage.
A black van.
Three men.
And one unexpected face.
Grant Mercer.
Elena covered her mouth.
“He lied.”
Vincent nodded.
“He wasn't at the hotel when you saw him.”
“What?”
“He arranged the chase remotely.”
“Then who was chasing me?”
“His bodyguard.”
Elena sat down.
“That means…”
“He wanted you to run.”
Vincent placed the footage on pause.
“He knew you would enter this elevator.”
She looked at him.
“Your elevator.”
“Yes.”
“But how?”
Someone had access to the hotel's private systems.
Vincent called Rafael.
“Lock down every employee credential.”
“Already doing it.”
“Find the leak.”
A second screen lit up.
A bank transfer.
Small.
Only $5,000.
To a hotel employee.
Then another.
$5,000.
Another.
Another.
Elena whispered:
“They paid people to move me.”
Vincent nodded.
“Not just move you.”
He looked at the footage.
“Guide you.”
She remembered the elevator.
The broken heel.
The corridor.
Every door.
Every turn.
Her stomach twisted.
“He planned this.”
“Yes.”
“To get me into your elevator.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Vincent's expression darkened.
“To use me as leverage.”
She stared at him.
“He wanted you involved.”
“Exactly.”
“And now you're involved.”
Vincent looked at her.
“Very.”
Elena lowered her head.
“I ruined your life.”
“You haven't even started.”
She looked confused.
“What does that mean?”
Vincent stood.
“It means I haven't decided how much I'm willing to protect you yet.”
Her eyes dropped.
May you like
Then he added:
“But I'm getting close.”
