Chapter 5 - BLOOD ON THE MARBLE
The wood splintered with a violent shriek.
"Step back against the brickwork!" Vincent commanded, grabbing my shoulder and pushing me, along with Sophie, behind the wide stone mantel of the fireplace.
The door shuddered under a second impact. The men outside weren't trying to pick the lock; they were using a tactical ram. Marcus’s voice cut through the gaps in the fractured wood, furious and ragged: "Burn the room if you have to! Take the child! The child has the key code to the digital backup!"
My heart stopped. I looked down at Sophie. "What key code? What is he talking about?"
"The drawing," Vincent said, his eyes darting to the yellow sheet of construction paper Sophie had brought into the room. He snatched it from the piano bench. Written in Sophie's messy, crayon-scratched letters beneath FOR THE MAN WHO MADE MOMMY SMILE was a string of alternating numbers and letters she had copied from the back of the cassette tape: 77-B-JULIAN-909.
"It's the decryption key for the Swiss ledger," Vincent muttered, his jaw working fiercely. "Julian didn't just leave physical film. He mirrored the entire shell account online and keyed the password to the day Sophie was born."
A third blow shattered the lock entirely. The heavy double doors burst inward, showering splinters across the oriental rug.
Two mercenaries in full combat gear entered low, their weapons tracking the room. But Vincent had already pulled a heavy antique bronze candelabra from the side table. He hurled it with bone-crushing force, catching the first operative directly across the visor, shattering the reinforced plastic and sending the man crashing down into the piano's lower register. A horrifying discord of smashed piano strings rang through the room.
The second shooter fired, a three-round burst chewing through Julian's hanging charcoal coat.
From behind them, Leo appeared like a ghost. He drove a combat blade upward beneath the shooter's tactical vest, dropped the man instantly, and kicked the dropped assault rifle across the floorboards to Vincent.
Vincent caught the weapon out of the air with fluid, terrifying familiarity. He didn't hesitate. He stepped into the doorway and fired four controlled rounds down the hallway, pinning down the reinforcements advancing from the stairs.
"Move! Now!" Vincent ordered, grabbing Sophie from my arms and shielding her small body completely with his broad chest. "Leo, blow the passage!"
Leo pulled a remote detonator from his pocket and clicked the switch.
A muffled explosion rocked the back wall of Julian’s room, blowing away the false plaster behind the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. Dust, masonry grit, and cold air blasted into the room, revealing a dark, narrow brick corridor that led into the adjoining townhouse—an old Prohibition-era escape route built by the Marlo family eighty years ago.
"Elena, through the hole, keep your head down!" Vincent yelled over the continuous crackle of gunfire.
I scrambled through the smoking gap, scraping my palms on the shattered brick. Vincent shoved Sophie into my arms on the other side, turning back into the smoke to lay down covering fire.
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Through the haze, I saw Marcus Vance standing at the end of the long hallway, clutching a submachine gun, his eyes burning with frantic madness. "You can't save them, Vincent! The whole family dies with Julian!"
Vincent stepped into the center of the doorway, clear of all cover, his rifle raised to his shoulder. "Julian died four years ago," Vincent roared, his voice cutting through the gunfire. "Today, you're the only one entering the grave."
