Chapter 5 - THE TRAITOR WITHIN
Roman immediately pulled his handheld tablet from his tactical belt and pulled up the primary gate stream.
Parked right outside the massive iron gates of Vale House was a heavily armored black SUV. Standing beside the vehicle, flanked by two armed men, was a tall, older man in a tailored gray suit—Victor Vance.
But it wasn't Victor who made Roman’s blood run cold.
Bound and gagged, kneeling on the wet gravel in front of the SUV, was Daniel, the head chef of Vale House—the very man who had asked Claire to get the rosemary at two in the morning.
Claire looked at the tablet screen over Roman’s shoulder and let out a horrified gasp. “Chef Daniel? But... he sent me downstairs!”
“He didn’t send you down to get herbs, Claire,” Roman realized, his voice dropping into a chilling tone. “He sent you down so the scout would kill you or use you as a bargaining chip. Daniel was the inside man.”
The radio crackled back to life. “You see him, Roman?” Victor’s voice came through. “Daniel was very helpful. He gave us the blueprint for your security system, the shift rotations, even the override code for your exterior gate. But he got greedy and asked for double his fee at the last minute.”
On the screen, Victor calmly drew a silver pistol, aimed it at the back of Daniel’s head, and pulled the trigger.
Claire covered her mouth to stifle a scream.
“Traitorous scum are always so unreliable,” Victor said casually over the radio. “Now, Roman. You have five minutes to open the main vault doors and hand over the black ledger your father left you, along with the girl. Do that, and I’ll let you leave Blackridge alive. Refuse, and I’ll use thermal charges to breach the main hall and burn Vale House to the ground with both of you inside.”
The radio went dead.
Claire stared at Roman, her eyes wide with shock and fear. “The ledger? What ledger?”
“My father kept an encrypted record of every corrupt politician, judge, and syndicate chief in New York,” Roman explained, walking back toward the service elevator. “Victor needs that ledger to buy his way back into the syndicate’s good graces. Without it, he’s a hunted man.”
“And why does he want me?” Claire asked, her voice trembling.
Roman stopped and turned to her. He stepped close, placing both hands on her shoulders. His touch was firm, grounding her in the midst of the horror.
“Because you saw the scout’s face, Claire,” Roman said softly. “And because he knows that in four short hours, you’ve become the only thing in this world I care about protecting.”
Claire’s heart skipped a beat. The intensity in Roman’s eyes was overwhelming, stripping away all the walls she had built around herself over years of abuse and quiet endurance.
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“We aren't giving him the ledger,” Claire said, standing taller. “And we sure as hell aren't opening those doors.”
Roman let out a low, dangerous laugh—the sound of a predator ready for the hunt. “No, Claire. We aren't. We’re going to open the gates and let them enter a slaughterhouse.”
