Chapter 6 - THE BACK DOOR ESCAPE|
Enzo pulled me into the dark, concrete service stairwell just as the main doors of the suite were kicked open by heavily armed mercenaries dressed in black tactical gear.
"Down! Go!" Tomaso ordered, guarding our rear with his weapon drawn.
We sprinted down nineteen flights of concrete stairs, the soles of my rubber maid shoes squeaking against the steps. My legs burned with agony, but the adrenaline surging through my veins kept me moving.
We reached the sub-basement three minutes later. The smell of trash, diesel fuel, and damp concrete filled the humid air.
At the far end of the loading dock, a sleek, armored black SUV sat idling, its engine rumbling like a sleeping beast. A young driver wearing a dark suit threw the rear door open the moment he saw Enzo.
"Get in, Amelia!" Enzo commanded, pushing me into the plush leather back seat before climbing in right beside me.
Tomaso slammed the heavy armored door shut, sliding into the front passenger seat. "Drive! Out the service gate! Go!"
The SUV roared forward, its tires screeching against the wet concrete as we burst out of the basement entrance into the blinding afternoon sunlight.
Behind us, two black sedans pulled out of the hotel parking lot, giving chase at high speed down the crowded streets of Manhattan.
"We have company," Tomaso reported, checking the rear monitors on the SUV's dashboard. "Gianni’s men. They knew our exact escape route."
Enzo reached into a side compartment, pulled out a spare submachine gun, and checked the magazine with cold efficiency. He turned his dark eyes toward me.
"Where is your father's original ledger, Amelia?" Enzo asked out of nowhere.
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I blinked in surprise, holding onto the leather seat as the SUV swerved wildly around a delivery truck. "What?"
"Your father was a state auditor," Enzo said sharply. "Men like Hector Duarte never rely on just one copy of an investigation. Where did he hide the real files?"
