Chapter 6 - The Night Mia Disappeared
Alina hit Vincent.
Hard enough to split his lip.
Dominic moved instinctively.
Vincent raised one hand.
“Don't.”
Alina hit him again.
“My daughter!”
“I know.”
“You said she was safe!”
“I know.”
“You had guards everywhere!”
“I know.”
“You said—”
“I was wrong.”
That stopped her.
Not because it helped.
Because there was nothing to argue with.
Vincent had been wrong.
Security cameras showed a nurse entering the corridor.
Uniform.
Badge.
Face partially covered by a medical mask.
Mia followed because the woman carried a blue balloon.
Three-year-olds didn't understand operational security.
They understood balloons.
The badge belonged to a nurse off duty.
Stolen.
The woman was Celeste Vale.
Vincent recognized her walk.
“She took her.”
Alina stared at the screen.
“Your cousin.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“The drive.”
“Then give it to her.”
“We will.”
“No games.”
Vincent looked at her.
“No games.”
“You don't send men behind them.”
He hesitated.
Wrong answer.
Alina grabbed his jacket.
“You listen to me.”
Dominic started forward again.
Vincent stopped him.
Alina looked directly into Vincent’s eyes.
“She is three years old. She doesn't care about your family or your companies or who wins. If they want that drive, you give it to them.”
Vincent nodded.
“Yes.”
“No tracker?”
“No.”
“No fake drive?”
“No.”
“No trick?”
“No.”
She slowly released him.
“You swear.”
Vincent understood promises mattered differently now.
“I swear.”
Raymond chose an old indoor amusement center closed during the pandemic.
West suburbs.
Huge building.
Multiple exits.
Bad location.
Good for ambush.
Vincent arrived alone.
At least visibly.
He carried Javier’s original drive.
No weapon.
Alina had demanded it.
Dominic hated it.
Matteo called it suicide.
Vincent went anyway.
The building smelled like dust and rubber flooring.
An abandoned carousel stood in darkness.
Children’s murals covered walls.
A voice echoed.
“Vincent.”
Celeste.
She stepped into view.
Gun in one hand.
Mia holding the other.
The toddler saw Vincent.
“Vincent!”
She tried to run.
Celeste tightened her grip.
Mia cried.
Vincent felt a kind of anger he'd never experienced.
Not hot.
Not wild.
Pure.
“Let her go.”
“Drive.”
He held it up.
“Here.”
“Place it on the floor.”
He did.
“Kick it.”
It slid halfway.
Celeste smiled.
“You really came alone.”
“Yes.”
“You never do anything alone.”
“Today I did.”
Mia stretched toward him.
“Want Mama.”
“I know.”
“Where Mama?”
“Waiting.”
Celeste looked tired.
Not triumphant.
That bothered Vincent.
“Where's Raymond?”
Her eyes changed.
“Not here.”
“So this is you?”
“No.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Trying to keep my husband alive.”
Vincent paused.
“From whom?”
“Your brother.”
There it was again.
Nobody’s story matched.
Celeste continued.
“Matteo has been blackmailing Raymond for years.”
“About Northern Prairie?”
“Yes.”
“That network belongs to Raymond.”
“It belonged to your father.”
“Then Raymond.”
“And Matteo.”
“Matteo says he was framed.”
Celeste laughed.
“They all say that.”
Fair.
“Why take Mia?”
“Because Javier’s drive contains something neither man can afford released.”
“What?”
“A recording.”
Vincent frowned.
“What recording?”
“Your father.”
His heart changed rhythm.
Celeste looked toward the drive.
“Javier accidentally recorded a meeting inside Warehouse Seven.”
“Who attended?”
“Your father. Raymond. Matteo.”
Vincent went still.
All three.
“The recording proves they built the network together.”
“That means Matteo lied.”
“Yes.”
“About everything?”
“No.”
Of course not.
Truth was rarely considerate enough to stay clean.
Mia began crying harder.
Celeste’s hand shook.
Vincent noticed.
“You don't want to hurt her.”
“Stop.”
“You could've.”
“Stop.”
“You brought a child somewhere public instead of a warehouse.”
“Vincent.”
“You kept her coat on. You gave her water.”
A bottle sat nearby.
“You're not like Raymond.”
Celeste’s eyes filled.
“You don't know me.”
“I know you’ve had fifteen minutes to shoot me.”
She looked away.
Vincent stepped forward.
“Don't.”
He stopped.
“Let Mia walk to me.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Raymond has my son.”
Vincent froze.
Celeste and Raymond had a son.
Ethan.
Seventeen.
At boarding school in Wisconsin.
At least supposed to be.
“He took Ethan?”
“He said if I didn’t get the drive, he would disappear.”
Vincent finally understood.
Celeste wasn’t acting for Raymond.
She was another hostage.
“Where is Ethan?”
“I don't know.”
“Did Raymond take him personally?”
“No.”
“Who?”
Celeste’s face went pale.
“Frank.”
Vincent almost laughed.
The traitor who claimed to oppose Vale now had Vale’s son.
Nothing was simple.
“Frank is working for Matteo.”
“Yes.”
Maybe.
Or Frank worked for himself.
Vincent lowered his voice.
“Celeste, listen.”
“No.”
“You give me Mia.”
“No.”
“I give you the drive.”
“You already did.”
“And then?”
She stared.
“You walk out. Raymond still owns you because Ethan is missing.”
She knew.
“I can find him.”
“You can't even protect this little girl.”
That hurt because it was true.
Vincent accepted it.
“No.”
Celeste looked surprised.
“I failed her.”
Mia watched him through tears.
“But I’ll still find Ethan.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn't.”
He looked at Mia.
“But right now, I’m the only person in this room who isn’t threatening your child.”
Celeste broke.
The gun lowered.
Mia ran.
Vincent caught her.
She slammed into his chest and wrapped both arms around his neck.
“Want Mama.”
“I know.”
He held her.
Not carefully because she was fragile.
Carefully because he suddenly understood how much could be lost in seconds.
Celeste cried.
“I’m sorry.”
Vincent looked at her.
“Come with us.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“Raymond will kill Ethan.”
“No.”
“You don't know him.”
Vincent’s voice hardened.
“I do now.”
A shot shattered glass above them.
Vincent dropped with Mia, covering her.
Celeste screamed.
Another bullet hit the carousel.
A sniper.
From the mezzanine.
Celeste wasn't the shooter’s target.
Vincent was.
Then a man fired back from the opposite side.
Matteo.
He appeared above them.
“Move!”
Vincent grabbed Mia and pulled Celeste toward cover.
Matteo exchanged shots with the unseen gunman.
The shooter fled.
Dominic’s team entered thirty seconds later.
Alina was with them despite orders.
She saw Mia.
“Mia!”
Vincent barely had time to stand before Alina tore the child from his arms.
Mother and daughter collapsed together.
Mia cried.
Alina cried harder.
Vincent stepped away.
He had no place in that embrace.
Then Mia reached toward him.
“Vincent.”
He looked back.
She held out one hand.
He took it.
Alina did not push him away.
For a moment, the three of them stayed connected.
Then Dominic approached.
“We found who fired.”
“Who?”
“Not Raymond.”
“Frank?”
“No.”
“Then?”
Dominic’s face tightened.
“Anthony Marchetti.”
Vincent’s cousin.
One of the three men who would inherit control if Vincent disappeared.
Another family member.
Another layer.
Matteo came downstairs.
Blood ran from a cut near his eyebrow.
Vincent stared at him.
“You lied to me.”
Matteo knew immediately.
“Celeste told you.”
“You were in Warehouse Seven with Dad and Vale.”
“Yes.”
“You built Northern Prairie.”
“At first.”
“How many people died?”
Matteo looked away.
Vincent stepped closer.
“How many?”
“I don't know.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
Vincent's fist tightened.
Mia watched.
He slowly opened it.
Matteo noticed.
“You've changed.”
Vincent looked toward the child.
“Apparently.”
Then Celeste’s phone rang.
Raymond.
She answered on speaker.
“Do you have it?”
Celeste looked at Vincent.
“Yes.”
“And the girl?”
“Safe.”
“Good.”
A pause.
“Bring the drive to Marchetti House tomorrow at midnight.”
Vincent frowned.
His old family home.
Vacant for six years.
Raymond continued:
“And bring Vincent.”
“What about Ethan?”
“You’ll see him there.”
The call ended.
Matteo whispered, “Trap.”
Vincent looked at him.
“Obviously.”
Alina held Mia tightly.
“You’re not going.”
Vincent met her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Ethan is seventeen.”
“That isn't your responsibility.”
Vincent looked at Mia.
May you like
Then at Celeste.
“I'm beginning to think that excuse has cost enough people already.”
