Chapter 7 - THE BROOKLYN SAFEHOUSE
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The taxi dropped me off on a quiet, tree-lined street in Park Slope, Brooklyn, in front of a three-story brick brownstone.
The building belonged to my mother’s sister, Aunt Rosa, who had passed away two years ago, leaving the property to me in a private trust that Dominic had never bothered to audit. To him, Brooklyn was a wasteland of small-time working folk, beneath the notice of the Callahan empire.
I used a rusty key hidden beneath a loose stone on the garden step to unlock the heavy wooden front door.
Inside, the brownstone smelled of old paper, dried lavender, and rain. It was quiet, safe, and completely dark. I carried my bag upstairs to the second-floor bedroom, pulled down the heavy velvet curtains to block any light from reaching the street, and clicked on a small desk lamp.
My hands were shaking as I pulled out my phone.
I removed the SIM card, snapped it in half, and threw the pieces into a glass of water. Then, I powered on a prepaid burner phone I had purchased weeks ago during a routine shopping trip.
I dialed a number I knew by heart.
The phone rang four times before a tired, sharp voice answered.
“If you’re calling about the furnace, it’s past midnight,” Marcus Vance grunted into the line.
“Marcus,” I said softly. “It’s Clare.”
There was a sudden, heavy silence on the other end of the line. Marcus had been my father’s head legal investigator before Callahan Maritime absorbed our family’s smaller logistics firm. When Dominic pushed my father out, Marcus had resigned in protest.
“Clare?” Marcus’s voice dropped an octave, suddenly fully awake. “Where are you? Dominic’s security team has been running license plates across Midtown since 1:00 a.m.”
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“I ran,” I said, leaning against the wooden desk. “I know about the petition, Marcus. I know about the Swiss clinic.”
“Thank God,” Marcus breathed out heavily. “I’ve been trying to find a secure way to reach you for three weeks. Clare, listen to me very carefully. Dominic isn't just trying to take your child. He’s liquidating your father’s original trust tomorrow morning.”
