Chapter 4 - THE PRICE OF LOYALTY"Marco..." Mateo said, his voice dropping into a register so quiet and deadly that the temperature in the room seemed to plummet.
Marco, Mateo’s head of security for twelve years, refused to meet his boss's eyes. He kept his tactical rifle pointed at the vault floor.
"Twenty million dollars and safe passage to Moscow, Don Mateo," Marco muttered, his voice hoarse. "The Commission is falling apart. The Russian network owns the ports now. I'm taking my payout while I'm still alive to spend it."
"You traded twelve years of brotherhood for Russian paper," Mateo said softly.
"Enough sentimental nonsense!" Volkov snapped, stepping into the light. His grey suit was immaculate despite the rain outside, his pale eyes gleaming with vicious triumph. "Hand over the ledger, Mateo. Or I put a bullet through the girl's knee, drag her over here, and make her watch you suffocate in cyanide gas."
Elise felt her heart hammer wildly against her ribs. She looked at Mateo.
Despite being outgunned and betrayed, Mateo Reyes didn't look like a trapped man. He looked like a storm gathering energy before an strike.
"She has nothing to do with this, Viktor," Mateo said, raising his hands slowly. "Let her walk out. Take me."
"Oh, the great Mateo Reyes, reduced to begging for an event planner," Volkov sneered, raising his pistol to point directly at Elise’s head. "How pathetic. I think I'll kill her first just to break your heart before I take your empire."
Volkov’s finger began to tighten on the trigger.
Elise didn't wait for Mateo to act.
Her mind, trained to memorize every blueprint and structural layout of Manhattan’s historical buildings, suddenly recalled the blueprint of this exact vault renovation from three years ago.
Directly beneath her left heel was the emergency fire suppression override pedal—designed to flood the vault with high-pressure nitrogen gas to preserve historical paper in case of fire.
Elise slammed her heel down with all her weight!
PSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHH!
A blinding, deafening cloud of frozen nitrogen gas roared from twenty ceiling vents, turning the entire vault room into a whiteout of zero visibility!
"Shoot them!" Volkov screamed, firing blindly into the thick cloud.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Mateo moved like a panther through the mist. He lunged forward, grabbing Volkov’s wrist, snapping it with a sickening CRACK, and snatching the silenced pistol from his grip.
Volkov shrieked in pain as Mateo drove a brutal knee into his ribs, slamming the Russian mobster face-first into the concrete floor.
Marco tried to bring his rifle up, but Mateo was already there. Mateo grabbed the barrel, twisted it out of Marco's hands, and struck his former security chief across the jaw with the heavy steel stock.
Marco collapsed, unconscious.
Mateo grabbed the heavy black ledger from the pedestal—ignoring the screaming alarm that signaled the pressure plate had been tripped—scooped Elise up into his arms, and sprinted out of the vault just as the massive titanium door slammed shut automatically, locking Volkov inside!
BOOM!
The vault sealed.
Silence returned to the subterranean chamber.
Elise lay panting against Mateo’s chest on the cold stone floor outside, her lungs burning, her torn dress covered in white dust.
Mateo looked down at her, his hazel eyes wide with genuine shock and awe.
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"You," Mateo breathed, a sudden, wild laugh breaking from his lips, "are completely insane, Elise Caldwell."
Elise wiped a streak of white powder from her nose, letting out a shaky laugh. "I told you... I know my buildings."
