Chapter 3 - THE MOLE IN THE SHADOWS
The heavy mahogany doors of the library burst open. Elena rushed in, her hand resting on the holster at her hip.
“Don Vane! The perimeter sensors at the eastern wall were tripped. Someone cut the power grid to the secondary security sector.”
Vane didn't flinch. He stood up calmly, buttoning his suit jacket. “Marcone?”
“No,” Elena said, her voice dropping lower. “The breach came from inside. Someone used an administrator access card to disable the silent alarm before cutting the lines.”
Vane’s eyes flicked over to me instantly. The warmth that had been present when he spoke of his daughter vanished entirely, replaced by absolute, lethal paranoia.
“She’s been here for three hours,” Vane said coldy. “Search her.”
“Hey! I didn't do anything!” I shouted, taking a step back as Elena forcefully grabbed my wrists and patted me down. She reached into the pocket of my new trousers and pulled out a small, sleek black object no bigger than a flash drive.
It was a tracking beacon. The blue light on its side was blinking steadily.
My heart dropped into my stomach. “I… I’ve never seen that before! I swear!”
“It was planted on her,” Elena muttered, inspecting the device. “This is high-grade military hardware. Marcone doesn't use this. The Federal Task Force does.”
Vane stepped toward me, his shadow completely covering me. The air grew stifling. “A federal tracker in my estate. Carried in by a girl who conveniently missed her bus by fourteen minutes and happened to hide in the exact warehouse where my kidnapped daughter escaped.”
“I didn't plant it!” I pleaded, tears burning my eyes. “I don't work for the police! I don't work for Marcone! I was just trying to get out of the cold!”
“Coincidences do not exist in my world, Maya,” Vane said, his voice chillingly quiet. He reached into his coat, pulled out a sleek black pistol, and racking the slide with a sharp, terrifying click. He aimed it directly at my forehead. “Tell me who sent you, or I put a bullet between your eyes right now.”
“Papa, stop!”
A tiny voice echoed from the doorway. Clara stood there, clutching a velvet blanket, her cheeks still flushed with fever. She ran past Elena and threw herself between the barrel of the gun and my chest, wrapping her small arms around my waist.
“She saved me!” Clara cried, staring up at her father with fierce, tear-filled eyes. “Don't hurt her! They put it on her when they grabbed us!”
Vane lowered the gun slightly, his brow furrowed. “What did you say, Clara?”
“The men in the black masks,” Clara sobbed, looking up at me. “When they took me from the park… they put something in her old denim jacket before she found me. I saw them!”
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Vane slowly lowered the weapon completely. He looked at Elena. “They used her as a blind messenger. They knew if she found Clara, we would bring her here. The tracker wasn't meant to find Clara—it was meant to pinpoint my safehouse.”
Suddenly, the floor beneath us vibrated. A massive explosion rocked the northern wing of the mansion, shattering the stained-glass windows into thousands of sharp, lethal shards.
