Chapter 3 - Trapped BelowDown in the dark, damp stone cellar beneath the mansion, Silas Marino was fighting for his life.
He had managed to take down two of Graham Voss’s mercenaries in the hallway, but a third had blindsided him with a heavy iron pipe, dragging him down into the sub-basement. When Silas regained consciousness, he found himself strapped to an old iron chair, industrial-grade blue cord biting mercilessly into his wrists.
Standing over him with a cold, triumphant sneer was Graham Voss himself.
“It’s a pity, Silas,” Graham murmured, adjusting his silk cuffs as he looked down at the bleeding mafia boss. “You were brilliant at building the empire. But you grew soft. You started keeping maids and children in a fortress meant for killers.”
“Graham,” Silas ground out, his voice hoarse. “You think a piece of paper makes you king? My captains will skin you alive before the week is out.”
“Your captains are currently locked out of the network,” Graham laughed dryly. “By morning, you’ll be declared missing at sea, the emergency transfer will be verified by forged signatures, and I’ll control every port from Chicago to Montreal. No one will ever look beneath the house for you.”
Graham turned and walked away into the shadows of the cellar, leaving two guards standing watch near the stairs.
Silas pulled against the blue industrial cord. The friction tore skin from his wrists, but the knot held fast. He was trapped.
That was when a tiny, muffled clatter echoed near his boots.
May you like
Silas looked down.
Out from behind a stack of rotting wooden crates crawled three-year-old Poppy Ellison, clutching a pair of pink plastic scissors shaped like rabbit ears.
