Chapter 8 - THE PRICE OF SAVING HIS QUEEN
"Say hello, Jolene."
Stefan Moreau held the phone a few inches from her face.
Jolene stared at him.
Her head throbbed.
Her wrists burned.
Somewhere above her, she could hear the low rumble of machinery.
But she refused to cry.
"Dominic?"
"I'm here."
His voice came through the speaker.
Calm.
Almost unnaturally calm.
"Are you hurt?"
"My head. Nothing serious."
Moreau smiled.
"She's being very brave."
Dominic ignored him.
"Where's Caleb?"
Jolene's heart lurched.
She hadn't seen her brother since the men grabbed them outside the festival.
Moreau tilted the phone.
"Her brother is upstairs. Alive and unharmed, provided everyone behaves."
"Let me speak to him," Jolene demanded.
"In due time."
Dominic's voice sharpened.
"Moreau, if you've hurt either of them—"
"You'll do what? Send men after me? Burn down my warehouses? Your father tried those things. They didn't work."
Silence followed.
Moreau moved closer.
"I want the transfer agreement signed tonight."
"You won't get my freight terminals."
"Then Miss Hartley and her brother may have an unfortunate accident."
Jolene felt her stomach drop.
Moreau continued.
"You will also withdraw every claim contesting my interest in Riverstone. And you will publicly state that the flood investigation was accurate."
Dominic was quiet.
Then he said the words Jolene had never imagined hearing from him.
"All right."
She stared at the phone.
"Dominic, no."
Moreau looked delighted.
"Very sensible."
Jolene shook her head.
"Don't give him everything."
Dominic spoke directly to her.
"Listen to me. Your life isn't negotiable."
"Neither are the lives of all those people who work for you."
"I'll deal with that."
"Dominic—"
"I promised your brother I'd bring you home."
Her throat tightened.
Moreau ended the call.
He slipped the phone into his jacket.
"How touching."
Jolene stared at him.
"You don't want justice for those men who died."
His expression changed.
"What did you say?"
"Paul Kessler. Martin Delgado. They tried to save you."
Moreau went still.
Jolene continued.
"You survived the flood because my father built an emergency release. Those men died because the gate closed behind you."
He studied her for several seconds.
Then he pulled up a chair.
"You've been asking questions."
"Someone should."
Moreau folded his hands.
"Do you know what Salvatore Valcourt offered me after the flood?"
She said nothing.
"Money. Enough to start a small company. He wanted me to say the gate malfunctioned."
"And you accepted."
"Of course I did. I was twenty-eight. I had debts. No family fortune. No powerful friends."
"Then why are you doing this now?"
His smile vanished.
"Because he didn't keep his promises."
Jolene stared at him.
"Two men died, and you're angry because you didn't get enough money?"
"Those men died because Salvatore cared more about his shipment than his workers."
"And you're different?"
For the first time, Moreau looked genuinely offended.
"I built a business from nothing."
"By stealing information, threatening families, and burning down a market."
Moreau stood abruptly.
"You're beginning to sound like your father."
He reached into his pocket.
Henry's silver watch lay in his palm.
Jolene's breath caught.
"Give that back."
Moreau examined the engraving.
"W-14. I've spent sixteen years wondering what Henry recorded."
"Why?"
"Because he saw things that night he was never supposed to see."
"What things?"
Moreau's eyes narrowed.
"Salvatore was moving freight nobody was meant to inspect. Your father knew the contents were dangerous."
Jolene thought of the old repair order.
The warning about keeping the corridor open.
The exact time marked inside the watch.
"You think my father kept evidence."
"I know he did. He told Salvatore he would never forget what happened."
Moreau slipped the watch back into his pocket.
"Unfortunately, your father was stubborn enough to keep his word."
Jolene looked at the three guards.
The oldest stood beside the stairs.
Another guarded the hallway.
The youngest remained near the wall, coughing.
His face had grown pale.
She recognized him.
The young man who had lured her from the festival.
"What's your name?" she asked.
He looked startled.
Moreau turned.
"Don't speak to her."
The young man coughed again.
Jolene noticed the way he leaned forward.
The tightness in his breathing.
"Do you have asthma?"
He nodded.
"Don't answer her," Moreau snapped.
Jolene ignored him.
"Do you have an inhaler?"
The boy touched his jacket.
His hands were trembling.
"Use it if it's prescribed for you," she said. "Sit upright. Try to stay calm."
The boy glanced at Moreau.
His face was turning frightened.
Moreau waved dismissively.
"Then take your medicine. I'm not paying you to collapse."
The boy retrieved an inhaler and used it.
Jolene watched him carefully.
"Better?"
He nodded after a moment.
"What's your name?"
"Evan."
"How old?"
"Nineteen."
"Do you have someone waiting for you at home?"
"My grandmother."
Jolene swallowed.
"Then don't throw your life away for this man."
Moreau laughed.
"She's trying to recruit my employees."
"No," Jolene replied. "I'm reminding him he has a choice."
Evan looked down.
But he didn't move away.
Twenty minutes later, footsteps sounded on the upper stairs.
Moreau straightened.
"He's here."
Jolene's heart began pounding.
Dominic descended the stairs.
He wore the same black suit from the festival.
There was a dark stain on his cuff where he'd apparently struck something while searching for her.
Marco followed him.
Behind them came Simon Kessler.
Jolene stared.
Simon wouldn't meet her eyes.
Moreau smiled.
"Wonderful. The family is together again."
Dominic looked only at Jolene.
"Can you stand?"
"Yes."
"Caleb?"
"Upstairs," she said. "I haven't seen him."
Marco moved toward the stairwell.
One guard stepped into his path.
Moreau lifted a hand.
"Mr. Dellis can retrieve the boy. No weapons. No surprises."
Marco gave Dominic a brief look.
Then he went upstairs with the guard.
Moreau turned back.
"The agreement."
Dominic placed a folder on the table.
"It's signed subject to verification and closing."
Moreau examined the pages.
His expression hardened.
"This isn't an immediate transfer."
"Property titles and freight licenses don't change hands with a single signature. You know that."
Moreau stared at him.
Then he smiled.
"Your father would've brought a gun."
"That's one reason I'm not my father."
Moreau's smile faded.
He gestured toward Jolene.
"Release her."
Simon stepped forward.
He cut the plastic ties from her wrists.
Jolene stood carefully.
Then she saw something in his face.
Shame.
Not fear.
Shame.
"Simon," she whispered, "you can still stop this."
Moreau heard her.
"Oh, he's tried that already."
He reached into his jacket and removed a small electronic device.
"He came to me this afternoon begging for an arrangement that would spare his mother."
Dominic turned toward Simon.
"Is that true?"
Simon nodded.
"I gave him the routes. I helped him get the warehouse. I thought I could control how far it went."
"You betrayed me."
"I know."
Dominic's voice was low.
"People nearly died."
"I know that too."
Moreau looked bored.
"Very touching. Perhaps we can finish our transaction."
Jolene looked past him.
A familiar red handle protruded from the wall beside the old freight mechanism.
She recognized it from her father's drawing.
The emergency gate control.
Someone had connected the modern security system to the original mechanical gate.
"Dominic," she said quietly.
He followed her gaze.
Moreau noticed.
For the first time, his confidence faltered.
"Don't."
Simon stepped toward the mechanism.
"Stefan, leave it alone."
Moreau's expression twisted.
"You don't give me orders."
He seized Jolene by the arm and pulled her toward him.
Dominic moved instantly.
"Let her go."
Moreau produced a pistol.
Everyone froze.
"Your father stole everything from me," Moreau said. "Now I'll take what matters to you."
Jolene stared into his face.
Suddenly, she understood.
This wasn't about money anymore.
It was about proving that a Valcourt could suffer.
Dominic raised his hands.
"You have me. Let her leave."
Moreau shook his head.
"That's not how your father taught me to negotiate."
A violent crash sounded upstairs.
Marco shouted.
"Dom! I've got Caleb!"
Moreau jerked toward the stairs.
Simon lunged for his arm.
The gun discharged.
The shot struck the concrete wall.
Jolene dropped to the floor.
Dominic grabbed Moreau's wrist.
The two men struggled.
Evan backed away, terrified.
Moreau struck Dominic with the pistol and broke free.
Then he reached for the red handle.
Simon shouted.
"Don't touch that!"
Moreau pulled it.
An alarm sounded.
Somewhere beyond the wall, a mechanical motor roared to life.
The old freight gate began descending.
At the same moment, smoke erupted from the service corridor.
Jolene smelled burning insulation.
Moreau had prepared another fire.
He stumbled toward a narrow side passage.
Simon tried to follow, but Dominic caught his shoulder.
"The gate!"
They turned.
The heavy steel barrier was dropping across the only clear exit to the upper stairs.
Jolene rushed toward it.
"Marco!"
Through the narrowing opening, she saw Marco and Caleb on the other side.
Her brother's face was white with terror.
"Jo!"
"Stay back!" she screamed.
Dominic reached the gate.
He braced both hands beneath the descending steel.
For one terrible second, it slowed.
Then the motor pulled harder.
Simon joined him.
Together they struggled against the weight.
Smoke rolled along the ceiling.
Evan coughed violently.
Jolene searched the wall for the missing emergency release.
There was no lever.
No safety handle.
Only an empty bracket where her father had once installed the brass fitting.
The same part someone had removed six weeks earlier.
Dominic's arms began trembling.
"Jolene! Get through!"
She looked at the narrowing space.
Then at Evan.
Then at Simon.
There wasn't enough room for all of them.
She made her choice.
"I'm not leaving anyone."
Dominic stared at her.
"Jolene—"
"No."
She dropped beside the mechanism.
There had to be another way.
Her father had designed it.
She would find it.
The steel gate slammed shut.
The impact shook the entire room.
On the other side, Caleb screamed her name.
Jolene pressed her palm against the cold metal.
Smoke thickened behind her.
And from somewhere inside the burning corridor, she heard Simon whisper the words that changed everything.
"I know why Moreau wanted the gate closed."
Dominic turned.
Simon looked at the rising smoke.
"Because Salvatore wasn't the one who first ordered those men left inside."
May you like
He swallowed.
"Moreau was."
