Chapter 6 - THE LOCKED FLOOR
Room 1908 was not storage.
It was a surveillance room.
Elena stood frozen in the doorway.
Six monitors covered the far wall.
Hotel corridors.
Lobby cameras.
Service elevators.
Staff entrances.
Several feeds did not belong to the Chatzsworth.
One showed the lobby of Lorenzo’s building.
Another showed the street outside Elena’s apartment.
A third showed Marisol’s building.
Elena stopped breathing.
“They found Marisol.”
Matteo was already on the phone.
“Get someone to Jackson Heights now.”
Elena grabbed his arm.
“She’s there alone.”
“Not anymore.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I sent two people the second we left the clinic.”
Elena stared at him.
“You sent security without telling me?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
Matteo blinked.
“That was easier than expected.”
Lorenzo stood before another monitor.
The Moretti penthouse kitchen.
Live feed.
His expression went cold.
“They’ve been watching my home.”
Preston sat in a chair near the door.
He had stopped trying to escape.
“I never installed those cameras.”
“Who did?” Lorenzo asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Try again.”
“I swear.”
Lorenzo walked closer.
Preston’s shoulders tightened.
Elena stepped between them.
“Threatening him won’t make information appear.”
Both men looked at her.
Preston stared too.
Elena pointed toward the monitors.
“You managed this?”
“Not all of it.”
“Who had access?”
“Mr. Vale.”
Lorenzo froze.
Matteo stopped moving.
Elena noticed immediately.
“You know that name.”
Lorenzo did not answer.
Matteo did.
“Gabriel Vale.”
“Who is he?”
Lorenzo finally spoke.
“My mother’s brother.”
“Your uncle?”
“Yes.”
Elena remembered Preston’s warning.
Your own family.
“What does he do?”
Lorenzo gave a humorless laugh.
“Officially?”
“Start there.”
“He runs Vale Maritime.”
“And unofficially?”
“He has spent twenty years trying to prove he should have inherited what my father left me.”
Preston looked down.
Lorenzo turned toward him.
“Gabriel rented 417?”
“His assistant did.”
“Why didn’t the reservation show that?”
“Because they paid me to change the records.”
Matteo’s voice hardened.
“How much?”
“Twenty thousand.”
Elena almost laughed from disbelief.
“You risked a baby’s life for twenty thousand dollars?”
Preston looked ashamed.
“I didn’t know about the baby.”
“Then what did you think they were doing?”
“Business surveillance.”
Lorenzo stepped closer.
“Of me?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Seven months.”
The room went silent.
Elena looked at the screens.
Seven months.
Long after Lucia died.
Or perhaps because she died.
“What did they want from the hotel?” Elena asked.
Preston swallowed.
“Guests.”
“What guests?”
“People meeting with Moretti Holdings.”
Lorenzo understood.
“Investors.”
“Board members.”
Matteo added.
“Attorneys.”
Preston nodded.
“They copied room records.”
“Recorded conversations?” Lorenzo asked.
“Yes.”
“Blackmail?”
“I don’t know.”
Elena looked at one screen.
A security camera showed the hotel loading dock.
The gray sedan from outside her apartment sat beside the dumpsters.
Her pulse spiked.
“That car.”
Matteo turned.
“What?”
“That’s the car from this morning.”
They watched as a man stepped from the sedan.
Gold watch.
Black stone ring.
The same hand from the penthouse elevator.
Elena pointed.
“That’s him.”
The camera angle shifted as he entered the service hallway.
Lorenzo stared.
“I know him.”
“Who?”
Lorenzo’s expression became unreadable.
“Anthony Serrano.”
Matteo looked stunned.
Elena looked between them.
“Another relative?”
“No.”
Lorenzo’s voice was quieter.
“My father’s closest friend.”
The monitor feed suddenly went black.
Then another.
Then another.
Within seconds, every screen shut off.
Emergency lights flickered.
Matteo drew his phone.
“No signal.”
Preston stood.
“They know you’re here.”
A loud metallic sound echoed in the hallway.
Fire doors closing.
Elena moved toward the exit.
Locked.
Matteo tested another door.
Also locked.
Someone had sealed the nineteenth floor remotely.
Lorenzo looked at Elena.
“Service route?”
“There’s a laundry chute.”
Matteo stared at her.
“We are not climbing down a laundry chute.”
“It leads to sixteen.”
“Still no.”
A fire alarm began ringing.
Smoke appeared beneath the far door.
Not thick.
But enough.
Preston panicked.
“Oh God.”
Elena ran toward the housekeeping closet.
She grabbed towels and soaked them beneath the sink.
Lorenzo helped without being asked.
Matteo found a fire extinguisher.
Smoke thickened.
“They’re trying to force us out through the west stairwell,” Elena said.
“Why?” Lorenzo asked.
“Because that’s probably where they’re waiting.”
Matteo looked at her.
“So the laundry chute?”
Elena nodded.
“The laundry chute.”
Preston went first.
Then Matteo.
Elena climbed into the narrow metal opening.
Lorenzo remained behind.
“Go.”
“What about you?”
“I’m right behind you.”
“Promise?”
His eyes met hers.
It was a strange question considering they had known each other for less than a day.
“Yes.”
Elena slid.
She landed hard in a pile of hotel linens three floors below.
Matteo caught her before she fell.
Lorenzo came seconds later.
By the time hotel security reached the nineteenth floor, the surveillance room was empty.
Every hard drive had been remotely wiped.
Every file was gone.
Except one.
Elena had slipped something into her pocket before the screens went dark.
A folded employee schedule she had noticed beneath the keyboard.
She opened it in the service elevator.
Three names were circled.
Claudia Ruiz.
Elena Reyes.
And Lucia Moretti.
Beside Lucia’s name were two handwritten words.
FAILED ONCE.
May you like
Beside Elena’s name were three.
DO NOT FAIL.
