Chapter 10 – The Fireplace
I didn’t wait to argue. I sprinted toward the sunroom.
June was already clutching little Leo to her chest, looking terrified as the alarms blared.
“Come on!” I yelled, grabbing her arm. “We have to move!”
We hurried down the long mahogany corridors toward the main library. The sound of gunfire echoed from the front lawn—heavy, concussive blasts that shook the crystal chandeliers. Leo buried his face in June’s neck, crying silently.
We burst into the library. It was a massive, circular room lined with thousands of old books.
I ran to the massive stone fireplace at the back of the room. I felt along the carved marble mantle, remembering the emergency protocols the previous estate manager had left in the files.
I found the hidden latch under the lion’s crest. I pressed it hard.
With a deep grinding noise, the entire back wall of the fireplace swung inward, revealing a steel-reinforced panic room.
“Get in,” I pushed them inside. The room was stocked with water, medical supplies, and a security monitor.
Just as I stepped in to pull the heavy door shut, a voice rang out across the library.
“Don’t move, Lily.”
I froze.
Standing in the library doorway was David, the security guard who had supposedly been knocked out by Celeste the night before.
He was holding a suppressed pistol, aimed directly at me.
“David?” I breathed, my hands shaking. “What are you doing?”
“Closing loose ends,” David said coldly, stepping into the room. “Step away from the door.”
“You,” I realized, the pieces slamming together in my mind. “You’re the mole inside the house. You gave Celeste the burner phone. You let her out of the cell.”
David smirked. “Celeste is an idiot. She thinks the Romanos care about her. But she was a useful distraction to get Adrian out of the house. He’s busy playing war in the driveway while I collect the real prize.”
He pointed the gun at little Leo.
“The Romanos don’t want the ledger anymore,” David said. “They want the boy. He’s the true heir. With him, they can force the Falcone syndicate to surrender.”
June stepped in front of Leo, her small frame shielding the child completely. “You will have to shoot me first, you coward.”
David’s eyes narrowed. “Gladly.”
He raised the gun, aiming right at June’s chest.
I didn’t think. I just moved.
I grabbed the heaviest thing I could find—a massive, solid brass fireplace poker—and swung it with every ounce of strength I had.
The heavy metal struck David’s wrist with a sickening crack.
He screamed, the gun firing wildly into the ceiling. He dropped the weapon, clutching his shattered arm.
I didn’t stop. I swung the poker again, hitting him squarely behind the knees. He collapsed onto the Persian rug.
I kicked the gun across the room, then dragged David by the collar, throwing him out of the fireplace alcove.
I slammed the heavy steel door of the panic room shut, spinning the locking wheel until it clicked into place.
We were safe inside.
June collapsed onto the floor, pulling Leo into a tight hug. She looked up at me, her eyes wide with shock and gratitude.
“You saved us, Lily,” she whispered.
I leaned against the cold steel wall, sliding down to the floor, gasping for air. “We just have to wait. Adrian will finish this.”
On the security monitor mounted to the wall, we watched the chaos unfold outside.
Adrian and Marcus were moving with terrifying precision. They had funneled the Romano hitmen into the courtyard, using the estate’s architecture against them. It wasn’t a firefight; it was an execution.
Within twenty minutes, the lawn was quiet. The remaining attackers had surrendered or fled.
But on camera feed six, showing the rear service road, I saw a black sedan speeding away from the estate.
Zooming in on the license plate, I caught a glimpse of the driver.
It was Celeste. She had used the firefight as cover to escape.
She was gone. But as I remembered Adrian’s words, I knew she was driving straight into her own doom. When she handed those fake numbers to the Romanos, they would realize she had ruined them.
Suddenly, a heavy knock pounded on the steel door of the panic room.
“Lily? Aunt June?” Adrian’s voice was muffled through the metal.
I spun the wheel and pushed the door open.
Adrian stood there, covered in soot and dirt, but completely unharmed. He looked down at the unconscious, bleeding David tied up on the library floor.
He looked at the brass poker in my hand.
Adrian let out a breathless, relieved laugh.
“I definitely hired the right estate manager,” he smiled.
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