Chapter 7 - The Woman in the Locked Room
The first explosion shook dust from the ceiling.
Mateo shouted for everyone to move. Damian shoved the ledger into his jacket, caught Rosa by the arm, and pulled her toward the service staircase.
Bruno refused to follow.
He stood beside Peter, barking at the darkness.
“Bruno!” Damian shouted.
The dog looked back once, then turned toward the elderly groundskeeper.
Peter's face crumpled.
“He knows.”
“Knows what?” Damian demanded.
“The scent. The fire. That was the last place he saw Elena.”
A second explosion struck the western wall.
Damian grabbed the dog’s collar, and Bruno finally moved. They climbed the stairs just as armed men entered the building above them.
Gunfire erupted.
Mateo returned fire from behind a stone pillar while Damian pushed Rosa through the red door. They reached the garden, sprinting through the overgrown bushes toward the vehicles.
One of Damian's guards lay wounded beside the road.
Another was missing.
The black SUV they had brought was already burning.
“Get in!” Mateo yelled, pointing toward the second vehicle.
Damian shoved Rosa inside and climbed after her. Bruno leaped into the rear compartment. Bullets struck the metal bodywork as Mateo drove through the broken gate.
They did not stop until the mountain road descended into a valley.
Only then did Damian turn to Peter.
“You said Elena survived. Tell me where she is.”
Peter shook his head.
“I don't know exactly. Victor moved her several times. The last place I heard about was an old private clinic outside the city.”
“When?”
“Five years ago.”
Damian stared at him.
“Five years?”
“I thought she was dead after that. Victor said she had complications from the fire.”
“What kind of complications?”
Peter’s eyes lowered.
“She was injured. Badly. She couldn't speak properly, and she had trouble remembering things.”
Rosa clasped her hands together.
“Why would Victor keep her alive?”
“Because she knew where the original trust documents were hidden. He needed her to identify the accounts.”
Damian’s jaw tightened.
“My brother imprisoned my wife to steal money from my family.”
Peter looked at him with a despairing expression.
“He did more than steal money, sir.”
Before the old man could continue, a phone vibrated inside his coat.
Peter froze.
Damian drew his weapon.
“Whose phone is that?”
“I don't know.”
The screen lit up.
An incoming message appeared from an unknown number.
YOU HAVE TEN MINUTES TO RETURN THE LEDGER. OTHERWISE, THE GIRL DIES.
A photograph followed.
Sophia sat in a small room, her hands tied loosely in front of her. She was crying, but she appeared unharmed. Behind her stood a woman wearing a white coat.
The woman’s face was partially obscured.
On her right wrist was a distinctive silver bracelet.
Rosa recognized it instantly.
“Isabel.”
Her missing sister.
The woman who had vanished six years earlier stood behind Sophia as though she were guarding her.
But was she a captive, too?
Or had she helped Victor take the child?
Rosa reached for the phone with shaking fingers.
The image contained a clue in the background. A cracked green tile, a narrow window, and the faded outline of a red cross.
Damian zoomed in.
“Medical facility.”
Mateo nodded.
“I can trace the photograph’s metadata.”
“Do it.”
The message disappeared.
A new one appeared.
NO POLICE. NO ARMED MEN. ONE LEDGER.
Damian looked toward the darkening sky.
“I have no intention of negotiating.”
Rosa grabbed his arm.
“You cannot storm in there. Sophia is six years old. If they use her as a shield, your entire army won't matter.”
Damian stared at the photograph.
He had spent his life teaching others that fear was a weakness. Yet the image of his little girl made his hands tremble.
“What do you suggest?”
Rosa wiped her tears.
“Give them what they think they want.”
Mateo looked at her.
“You can't be serious.”
“The ledger is a copy of a copy. We can photograph the important pages, then give Victor the book.”
Damian studied her.
“You want me to hand my brother the only evidence we have?”
“No. I want you to give him the thing he expects, while we take away everything he thinks he controls.”
Something close to admiration flickered across Damian’s face.
Then he shook his head.
“He won't accept a public exchange. He'll want a private meeting.”
“Then let him have one.”
Rosa looked at the photograph again.
“And I will be there.”
Damian's expression turned hard.
“Absolutely not.”
“He took my daughter. He threatened my sister. He spent six years forcing us to hide. I am finished being afraid of him.”
“You could be killed.”
“So could Sophia. So could you. At least this time, I'll be choosing where I stand.”
For several seconds, Damian said nothing.
Then he handed Mateo the ledger.
“Photograph every page. Make three copies. One goes to the police, one to a journalist, and one to a judge who isn't on Victor's payroll.”
Mateo nodded.
“And you?”
May you like
Damian looked at Sophia’s picture.
“I'm going to find my family.”
