Chapter 4 - THE TUNNEL UNDER THE HOUSE|
Dominic returned to the estate before sunset.
The party decorations were still hanging from the staircase. Crystal fragments glittered beneath the furniture, and a dark stain marked the marble where one of the guards had died. The house looked less like a home than a crime scene dressed in expensive clothes.
Marco met him in the study.
“Where is Laura?”
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere you don't have permission to know.”
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
“Watch your mouth.”
“Watch your choices.”
For a moment, neither man moved.
Then Dominic placed Laura's ring on the desk. The folded paper lay beside it.
“She left this.”
Marco looked at the ring but did not touch it.
“Then you should read it.”
Dominic unfolded the paper.
You chose your world. I choose our child.
He read the sentence once. Then again.
Four words would have been easier to dismiss. These were seven. They were worse.
“She thinks I abandoned her.”
“You did.”
“I sent you to protect her.”
“You sent me because you wanted someone else.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“I had seconds to make a decision. Elena was carrying evidence that could have stopped a war.”
“And Laura was carrying your child.”
The words landed between them.
Dominic looked away first.
“Show me the tunnel.”
They went through the west service corridor with six armed men. A maintenance worker had removed a section of decorative wall behind an old wine cabinet. Beyond it, stone steps descended into darkness.
The tunnel was older than the estate. Its walls were damp, its ceiling reinforced with rusted beams. Fresh electrical cables ran along one side. Someone had installed cameras, a ventilation system, and a steel door at the far end.
Dominic crouched beside a dark smear on the floor.
“Blood?”
The technician nodded.
“Recent. We found a second trail near the drainage channel.”
“Where does it lead?”
“Toward the property line. There's an access hatch near the old boathouse.”
Dominic examined the wall.
“Who knew this existed?”
“Your father, according to the original property plans. The tunnel was sealed twenty years ago.”
“Then who reopened it?”
The technician handed him a small plastic evidence bag.
Inside was a brass key.
Dominic recognized it.
It belonged to Elena.
He stood slowly.
“Bring her here.”
An hour later, Elena entered the study with her lawyer and two security men. She wore a cream blouse and carried herself with the same composure she had displayed at the party.
Dominic placed the key on the desk.
“Explain.”
Elena looked at it.
“Where did you find that?”
“Under my house.”
“I lost it months ago.”
“Why did you have a key to a sealed tunnel?”
She glanced at her lawyer.
“I was investigating the Salazar network. The tunnel connects to an old property they once controlled.”
“Under my home?”
“I didn't know it came this far.”
Dominic leaned forward.
“Don't lie to me.”
Elena's calm finally cracked.
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
“You were carrying a case when the shooting started. What was in it?”
“Records. Names. Payments. A list of people inside your organization who were working with Salazar.”
“Give it to me.”
“I don't have it.”
Dominic stared at her.
“You handed it to me that night.”
“I handed you an empty case.”
The room went silent.
Dominic remembered the weight of it. Too light. He had noticed, but the gunfire had continued, and Elena had been bleeding.
“Where is the real evidence?”
Elena lowered her voice.
“Someone took it before the attack.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Dominic turned toward Marco.
“Seal every entrance. Nobody leaves.”
Elena stepped closer.
“You're making a mistake. The people behind this are closer than you think.”
Dominic's gaze hardened.
“Then tell me who.”
She looked at the tunnel photographs on his desk.
“I can't.”
He dismissed her lawyer and guards. When the door closed, he placed a recording device on the table.
“You have one chance,” he said.
Elena's eyes flicked toward it.
Then she whispered, “The tunnel wasn't opened to get into your house.”
Dominic waited.
“It was opened to get someone out.”
“Who?”
Elena swallowed.
“Your wife.”
Dominic felt the blood drain from his face.
Before he could question her, a gunshot sounded from the corridor.
Marco drew his weapon.
A guard stumbled into the study, clutching his side.
“Boss! The tunnel entrance—someone just came through!”
Dominic grabbed his gun.
The guard struggled to speak.
“He was carrying a photograph.”
“Of whom?”
The man held out a bloodstained picture.
It showed Laura, asleep in a hospital bed.
May you like
On the back, written in black ink, were six words:
You should have stayed with her.
