Chapter 12 - TWENTY MINUTES
Damian did not negotiate.
That surprised me.
He simply turned away from Salvatore’s face behind the glass and started issuing orders.
“Get the west tunnel open.”
“It’s flooded,” Thomas said.
“Then drain it.”
“That takes thirty minutes.”
“We have twenty.”
Gabriel studied the bunker map.
“There’s an old ventilation shaft.”
“Too small,” Samuel said.
“For adults.”
Everyone looked at Mateo.
The six-year-old stood near the platform stairs.
Damian’s face hardened.
“No.”
Mateo looked at him.
“I can do it.”
“No.”
“Mom showed me.”
Damian froze.
“What?”
Mateo pointed at the map.
“She brought me here before.”
He walked to the wall.
“Tunnel goes up.”
Samuel crouched beside him.
“Do you remember where?”
Mateo nodded.
“Behind the trees.”
Damian shook his head.
“You’re not crawling through anything.”
Mateo’s face tightened.
“Leah needs help.”
The child sounded older than six.
That hurt.
No child should know how to say those words with such certainty.
I knelt beside him.
“Mateo, if it’s dangerous—”
“I know the way.”
Damian stared at his nephew.
Bianca’s son.
The last living piece of the sister he could not save.
Finally, Damian lowered himself.
“If you get scared, you come back.”
Mateo nodded.
“If anything blocks the path, you come back.”
“Yes.”
“You do not try to be brave.”
Mateo looked at him.
“Mom said brave means being scared and going anyway.”
Damian closed his eyes.
That had clearly been Bianca.
He touched the boy’s face.
“Your mother was impossible.”
Mateo almost smiled.
Damian attached a small radio and camera to him.
We removed the vent cover.
Mateo crawled inside.
Watching that small child disappear into darkness was one of the worst things I had experienced.
And that list had become long.
The camera feed showed rusted metal.
Dust.
Narrow turns.
Mateo crawled.
Eight minutes remained when he reached an opening above ground.
Fresh air.
Trees.
“Good,” Damian whispered.
“Go to the road.”
Mateo ran.
A security vehicle picked him up three minutes later.
Meanwhile, Thomas managed to partially drain the bunker corridor.
We escaped through waist-deep water.
Salvatore had disappeared.
Of course he had.
We reached vehicles.
Fourteen minutes remaining.
The mansion was forty minutes away.
“We won’t make it,” I said.
Damian looked at the helicopter waiting beyond the trees.
“Yes, we will.”
Eight minutes later we were airborne.
The helicopter descended over the Caruso estate with less than five minutes remaining.
Damian had the hard drive.
A copy, actually.
Thomas had duplicated the outer structure and loaded corrupted files onto another drive.
Whether Anthony would notice quickly enough was another question.
We landed behind the east gardens.
No gunfire.
Too quiet.
Damian’s phone rang.
Anthony.
“Front entrance.”
Damian answered.
“You have the drive?”
“Yes.”
“Come alone.”
“No.”
“Then Leah dies.”
I grabbed Damian’s arm.
He looked at me.
“I’m coming.”
Anthony heard.
“No.”
I leaned toward the phone.
“She is my daughter.”
“Elena, I have no argument with you.”
“You stole my child twice.”
“That was business.”
My hands shook.
“I’m coming.”
Silence.
“Fine.”
We entered through the front.
Damian carried the fake drive in one hand.
No visible weapon.
I walked beside him.
The foyer looked unchanged.
Children’s drawings.
Family photographs.
Ordinary life surrounding extraordinary danger.
Anthony stood near the staircase.
Rosa sat on the floor.
Her hands were tied.
Leah stood beside Anthony.
He held her shoulder.
She looked toward me.
“Mama.”
I stopped myself from running.
Anthony raised the gun.
“Drive.”
Damian held it out.
“Release her.”
“First the drive.”
“You know how this works.”
Anthony smiled.
“You taught me.”
That was the cruelest part.
Damian had trusted him.
Trained him.
Made him family.
Anthony had used all of it against him.
“Why Bianca?” Damian asked.
Anthony’s expression changed.
“Don’t.”
“You loved her.”
“Don’t.”
“You had a son with her.”
Anthony’s jaw tightened.
“You know about Mateo.”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
“Safe.”
Anthony’s face became desperate.
“Where?”
Damian saw it.
So did I.
For the first time, Anthony’s mask cracked.
“You care about him.”
“He’s my son.”
“You tried to kill his mother.”
“I didn’t!”
His voice echoed.
Leah flinched.
Anthony lowered the gun slightly.
“I didn’t know Salvatore would kill her.”
“You arranged the shooter.”
“To scare her.”
“You gave her location.”
Anthony’s eyes filled.
“I thought he would stop her.”
Damian’s voice turned cold.
“You chose Salvatore over Bianca.”
“I chose my son.”
“No.”
Damian stepped closer.
“You chose yourself.”
Anthony raised the gun again.
“Drive.”
Damian handed it over.
Anthony connected it to a laptop on the side table.
Files appeared.
He smiled.
Then frowned.
“Something’s wrong.”
Thomas’s corrupted copy.
Anthony looked up.
“You lied.”
Damian moved.
Anthony fired.
The shot struck Damian’s shoulder.
I screamed.
Leah broke free.
She ran toward me.
Anthony reached for her.
Rosa kicked his knee.
Hard.
He stumbled.
Damian hit him.
The gun slid across the floor.
I grabbed Leah.
Anthony and Damian crashed into the staircase.
Punches.
Blood.
Years of betrayal exploding in seconds.
Anthony reached for a knife.
Then a child’s voice came from the doorway.
“Dad.”
Everything stopped.
Mateo stood there.
Security guards behind him.
Anthony froze.
The knife fell from his hand.
“Mateo.”
The boy stared at him.
“You hurt Mom.”
Anthony’s face collapsed.
“No.”
“You did.”
“I loved her.”
Mateo shook his head.
“She said love doesn’t make you scared.”
Anthony began crying.
Damian stepped back.
For once, he did not strike.
Mateo looked toward Damian.
Then toward his father.
“I saw you.”
Anthony stopped breathing.
“The man in the car.”
Mateo continued.
“You gave him money.”
Anthony closed his eyes.
It was over.
Damian’s men restrained him.
Leah held my face.
“Mama hurt?”
“No.”
She touched my cheek.
Then looked at Damian’s bleeding shoulder.
“Dada hurt.”
Damian smiled weakly.
“I’m okay.”
Leah shook her head.
“No lie.”
Every adult in the room went silent.
Then somehow, despite blood and betrayal, Damian laughed.
A real laugh.
He crouched beside her.
“No lie.”
She touched his face.
That should have been the end.
But then Thomas’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“What?”
We all looked at him.
He lowered the phone.
“The real hard drive is gone.”
Damian stared.
“Impossible.”
“It was taken from the helicopter.”
“By who?”
Thomas looked toward the open front doors.
A black sedan was speeding away.
Gabriel was missing.
May you like
My supposedly dead husband had stolen the only archive capable of destroying Salvatore Caruso.
Again.
