Chapter 3 – [THE GASOLINE ON THE CONCRETE]

The intercom clicked off, leaving a suffocating silence in the basement.

Roman stared at the steel door at the top of the stairs, then down at the forged letter in his hand. He didn’t shout. He didn’t bang on the door. He just stood there, absorbing the absolute betrayal.

“Blair locked us in,” Leo whispered, genuine panic finally breaking through his arrogant facade. He ran up the stairs and rattled the handle. “Blair! Open the door! Blair, I’m still down here!”

There was no answer.

Roman slowly turned his gaze to the forged document. “The signature,” he murmured.

He held it up to the dim light. “It looks perfect. The slant, the pressure. But it’s signed Roman A. Castellano.” He looked down at Sara, who was still trembling on the floor. “Sara. In ten years of marriage, have I ever used my middle initial when writing to you?”

Sara looked up, blinking through her tears. Her breathing slowed. “No. Never. Only on legal syndicate contracts.”

“Blair traced it off a cartel banking document,” Roman said coldly. He crushed the paper in his fist. He looked at Leo, who was now desperately pounding his fists against the reinforced steel door. “Blair played you, Leo. She used you to get rid of Sara so she could take the throne. And now she’s locking you in the cage with me to tie up loose ends.”

Leo spun around, his eyes wild. “No! We had a deal! She said once Sara was gone, my side of the family would control the west side ports!”

Roman laughed bitterly. “And you trusted a snake.”

Suddenly, the lights in the garage flickered and died.

We were plunged into pitch blackness.

Lily whimpered and buried her face in my leg. I dropped to my knees, hugging her tight, whispering that it was going to be okay. But my own heart was threatening to beat its way out of my chest.

Then, the emergency backup lights kicked on, bathing the garage in an eerie, blood-red glow.

“Emily,” Roman said, his voice slicing through the panic. “Bring Lily over here. Keep her behind the car.”

I grabbed Lily and rushed over to where Sara was sitting. As soon as we were close, Lily broke free from my grip and threw herself at her mother.

“Mommy!”

“Lilybug!” Sara sobbed, wrapping her arms around the little girl, burying her face in Lily’s hair. “Oh my God, my baby. My sweet, beautiful girl. Mommy missed you so much.”

I felt a hot tear slide down my cheek. For six months, this mother had been told she would be murdered if she tried to see her child. And she still showed up in the rain with a birthday cake.

“How do we get out?” I asked Roman, my voice trembling.

Roman pulled a heavy set of keys from his pocket. “There’s a service elevator at the back of the garage. It leads to the servant’s tunnels. It requires a manual override key.”

He started walking toward the back wall.

Clatter.

A metallic sound echoed from the far corner of the room.

Roman stopped. Leo froze on the stairs.

From the shadows behind the Escalade, the heavy, pungent smell of gasoline flooded the air.

“You’re not going anywhere, Roman,” a voice sneered.

It wasn’t Blair.

A man stepped out of the darkness. He was wearing the black uniform of Castellano mansion security, but I had never seen him before. In his hands, he held a massive red jerrycan of gasoline. He was tipping it over, letting the fuel pour out in a massive puddle across the sloped concrete floor, rolling directly toward the only exit.

“Blair sends her regards,” the guard said.

With a flick of his thumb, he sparked a silver Zippo lighter.

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