Chapter 5 – The Clock Ticking Toward Midnight

“It’s an ambush,” Adrian said, accelerating until the SUV’s engine screamed in protest.

I clutched Ben tighter to my chest. The streetlights flashed rapidly through the tinted windows, illuminating the absolute dread on Adrian’s face.

“If it’s an ambush, why are we driving straight into it?” I asked, my voice rising in panic. “Call the police, Adrian! Call the FBI!”

“The police can’t get inside the mill without a warrant, Nora,” Adrian replied, his eyes glued to the dark road. “By the time they breach the perimeter, Daniel will be dead. This is family business. We handle it.”

“He’s my husband!” I cried, tears of frustration spilling over my cheeks. “I don’t care about your family business! I want him alive!”

Adrian’s grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned bone-white.

“I want him alive, too,” Adrian said, his voice cracking with an emotion I hadn’t expected from a mafia boss. “He was the only man in this entire city who never lied to me. He gave up his freedom so I could keep my life. I am not letting him die in a furnace.”

The massive, rusted silhouette of the old Moretti Steel Mill loomed in the distance. It was a cathedral of decaying industry, surrounded by chain-link fences and overgrown weeds. Towering smokestacks pierced the foggy night sky.

Adrian killed the headlights as we approached the dirt access road.

“Marco,” Adrian whispered into his radio. “Kill the engines. We go in on foot. Total silence.”

The convoy of SUVs rolled to a stop in the shadows of an old loading dock.

Adrian turned around in his seat, looking at me and Ben.

“Nora, I need you to stay in the car,” Adrian commanded gently. “Lock the doors. Marco will stay with you.”

“No,” I refused instantly.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small silver key I had found taped behind the photograph in the train car.

“Daniel didn’t leave this key for you, Adrian,” I said, my voice shaking but resolute. “He left it for me. It opens something in there. If he’s locked in a cage or chained to a wall, you won’t be able to get him out without this.”

Adrian stared at the key. He knew I was right. In an industrial mill, heavy padlocks were everywhere. A gunshot could detonate gas lines, but a key was silent.

He looked at Ben.

“Marco,” I said, turning to the massive security chief. “Swear to me on your life that you won’t let anyone touch my son.”

Marco placed his massive hand over his heart. “I swear it, Mrs. Hayes. On my mother’s soul.”

I kissed Ben’s forehead, my tears wetting his hair. “Mommy’s going to get Daddy now. Stay down, be brave, and don’t make a sound.”

Ben nodded, his lower lip trembling. He raised his hand and tapped his fingers three times, then two.

I smiled through my tears. “That’s right, baby.”

I slipped out of the SUV, the cold night air biting through my thin housemaid uniform. Adrian handed me a heavy tactical flashlight and a small, sleek pistol.

“Safety is off. Point and pull,” Adrian instructed, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “Do not hesitate.”

I gripped the cold metal. I had never held a gun before, but my hands didn’t shake.

We moved swiftly through the tall grass, approaching a rusted side door of the mill. The deafening roar of a commercial freight train rattling down the nearby tracks masked our footsteps.

Adrian signaled to two of his men, who silently breached the door.

We slipped inside.

The interior of the mill was cavernous and terrifying. Catwalks crisscrossed high above the factory floor, casting jagged shadows across the massive, dormant machinery. The smell of sulfur and rust was overpowering.

In the very center of the factory, a faint, flickering orange glow illuminated the darkness.

The blast furnace.

Adrian raised a hand, signaling us to stop. We crouched behind a rusted conveyor belt, peering into the center of the room.

Standing on a metal platform above the open, glowing pit of the furnace was Isabella.

She was no longer wearing her elegant dinner gown. She wore dark tactical clothing, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. She held a heavy revolver in one hand and a small black remote in the other.

And suspended by a thick steel chain over the glowing pit, dangling twenty feet in the air, was a metal cage.

Inside the cage was a man.

He was emaciated, his clothes in rags, his hair overgrown and matted. His hands were bound behind his back.

But I would know that silhouette anywhere.

“Daniel,” I gasped, clapping a hand over my mouth to stifle my scream.

Adrian’s jaw tightened. He raised his weapon, lining up the sights on Isabella’s head.

“Drop the gun, Isabella,” Adrian’s voice boomed through the empty mill, echoing like thunder.

Isabella didn’t flinch. She didn’t look surprised. She simply turned toward the sound of his voice and smiled.

“Right on time, Adrian,” Isabella called out, her voice dripping with venom. “I knew you couldn’t resist playing the hero.”

Adrian stepped out from behind the conveyor belt, his gun perfectly steady.

“Bring the cage down,” Adrian ordered. “Carlo is in custody. Your men at the railyard are dead. It’s over.”

Isabella laughed. A cold, echoing sound that made the hairs on my arms stand up.

“Carlo is an old fool,” Isabella sneered. “He thought he was using me to spy on you. He thought we were partners. But Carlo isn’t the one who built this trap, Adrian.”

She held up the black remote.

“This remote doesn’t control the chain holding your precious driver,” Isabella said, her eyes flashing with a manic intensity. “This remote controls the C4 explosives rigged to every support pillar in this building.”

Adrian froze.

“You’ll kill yourself,” Adrian said.

“No, I won’t,” Isabella smiled. “Because I’m not pregnant with your child, Adrian. I’m not pregnant with Carlo’s child, either.”

She stepped closer to the edge of the platform, the orange glow illuminating her face.

“I’m pregnant with the child of the Don of the Chicago Syndicate,” Isabella revealed, dropping the ultimate betrayal. “The rival family you’ve been fighting for five years. I was planted in your life to destroy the Morettis from the inside. And tonight, the head of the family, his loyal driver, and the nosy wife all burn together.”

She raised her thumb over the red button on the remote.

“Goodbye, Adrian.”

Isabella pressed the button.