Chapter 8
The subterranean tunnel smelled of damp stone, old history, and raw ozone. Emergency red strip-lights cast long, jittery shadows against the rough-hewn brick walls as Naomi, Belvin, and Titan moved swiftly through the gloom. The sounds of the restaurant above—the distant pops of gunfire, the shattering of glass, and the chaotic shouting of Castellano’s men—echoed dully through the ceiling overhead.
"Watch your step here," Belvin murmured, his hand lightly guiding Naomi’s elbow as they navigated a damp patch of uneven concrete flooring. "The drainage grate drops down about three feet if you veer too far left."
Naomi pulled her arm away slightly, though there was no heat in the gesture. "I can walk, Mr. Santoro. I spent three years crawling through muddy animal rescue pens in upstate New York. A mob escape tunnel is practically luxury."
A faint, dry chuckle escaped Belvin’s lips. "Elena’s stubbornness, too. It’s uncanny."
"Stop talking about my mother like you knew her soul," Naomi hissed softly, her footsteps echoing in the enclosed space. "You said she tried to steal a ledger. You said she betrayed your family. If she was such a criminal, why did my father take the fall for her? Why did he spend eight years in a federal penitentiary while we starved in a leaky basement in Queens?"
Belvin stopped walking so abruptly that Titan bumped into his leg. The red light caught the sharp angles of Belvin’s face, casting deep, dramatic shadows across his dark eyes.
"Because your mother didn't steal that ledger to sell it to the FBI, Naomi," Belvin said, his voice dangerously low. "She stole it to protect your father. My father—the old man—was planning to eliminate everyone who knew about the offshore laundering network, starting with the bookkeepers. Your mother found the hit list with your father’s name at the top. She took the book and ran so they would chase her instead of him."
Naomi froze, the heavy wrench in her hand feeling suddenly like lead. The air in the tunnel felt thick, choking her lungs. "She... she saved him?"
"She saved him," Belvin confirmed quietly. "And in doing so, she painted a target on her back that lasted until the day she died. My brother Julian tried to help them escape, but the Commission moved too fast. The fire in Brooklyn wasn't an accident, Naomi. It was an execution order."
The final pieces of the shattered puzzle clicked into place in Naomi’s mind, washing away fifteen years of resentment, anger, and abandonment. Her mother hadn't been a traitor; she had been a soldier fighting a lonely war to keep her family alive. Just like Naomi was doing right now for Maya.
"And Castellano?" Naomi asked, her voice hardening into ice. "What does he have to do with the old ledger?"
"Castellano was the accountant’s apprentice back then," Belvin said, his eyes flashing with a cold, lethal fury. "He’s the one who found the burnt remnants of the safe. He’s spent the last twenty years trying to find the missing digital copies—copies he believes your mother passed down to her children before she died."
Naomi’s breath hitched. "I don't have any digital copies. I don't even know what he’s talking about."
"Castellano doesn't believe that," Belvin said, turning back toward the tunnel ahead. "And until he searches your apartment and tears through your sister’s hospital room looking for them, he won't stop hunting you."
The blood rushed in Naomi’s ears. Maya. The hospital.
"We have to get to St. Jude’s," Naomi said, panic surging back with renewed violence. "If Castellano’s men know who I am, they’ll go straight for the hospital. Maya is alone there."
"They won't," Belvin said firmly, pulling a secure satellite phone from his tactical vest and punching a rapid sequence of numbers with his thumb. "I’ve already dispatched two tactical units to lock down the oncology wing. Your sister is safer right now than the President of the United States."
May you like
He lifted the phone to his ear, barking into the line. "Vance? Status report... Good. Move the second team to the perimeter of St. Jude's. If anyone matching Castellano’s description gets within fifty yards of that hospital, drop them."
He clicked the phone off and pocketed it, looking down at Naomi with a steady, unyielding gaze. "Now, we get out of this tunnel, grab a car from the safehouse, and finish this once and for all."
