Chapter 5 - The Hostage
Maeve stared at Roman, the reality of her situation finally crashing down on her.
She had survived the attack, but she had just become a massive liability to the Falcone family and a target for their enemies.
“I need to go home,” Maeve said, her voice shaking for the first time.
“I need to check on my sister.”
Declan shook his head, wiping a smear of blood from his cheek.
“If Carlo sold out the manor codes, he knows everything about the payroll.”
“He knows your name, your address, and about your sick sister.”
“If you leave this house, his men will pick you up before you reach the bus stop.”
Maeve felt a cold spike of pure panic drive into her chest.
“You’re telling me I’m a hostage?”
Gabriel walked over, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.
“You’re under our protection, Maeve.”
“There is a very big difference.”
Roman turned away, pulling a burner phone from his pocket.
“We need to relocate.”
“The manor is compromised, and the police will be here in less than ten minutes to investigate the explosion.”
“We are moving to the safe house in the city.”
They gave Maeve exactly two minutes to grab her coat.
They loaded into a heavily armored black SUV hidden in the underground garage.
Declan drove like a madman, tearing through the winding cliffside roads in the pouring rain.
Maeve sat in the backseat between Roman and Gabriel, clutching her cheap coat around her shivering shoulders.
“How did your uncle know the codes?” Maeve asked quietly, breaking the tense silence.
Roman looked at her, clearly surprised she was asking questions instead of crying.
“Carlo designed the security system himself ten years ago,” Roman explained coldly.
“He thought we were getting too soft to run the syndicate.”
“He wanted to wipe us out and take total control.”
Maeve frowned, looking down at her worn boots.
“If he designed the system, why did his men try to guess the panic room code?”
Roman froze.
Declan slammed on the brakes, the heavy SUV skidding slightly on the wet asphalt.
“What did you just say?” Declan demanded, staring at her through the rearview mirror.
Maeve looked up, meeting his intense gaze.
“The mercenary who opened the panic room door.”
“He tried three different combinations before the door finally opened.”
“If your uncle gave them the master codes, why didn't he know the code to the panic room?”
Gabriel’s face went completely pale.
“Because Carlo didn't design the panic room,” Gabriel whispered.
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“Our father did.”
“And the only person besides us who knew that code was Mrs. Hess.”
