Chapter 6 - The Man Inside the House
Damian drove Della to the floor as bullets tore through the archive shelves.
Metal screamed.
Paper burst into the air.
Somewhere near the doorway, the elderly clerk cried out.
Damian fired twice toward the muzzle flashes.
A body struck the wall.
Emergency lights flickered red along the floor.
Reed was gone.
The black document case was gone with him.
Della still held the recorder.
“Are you hit?” Damian asked.
“No.”
He pulled her behind a steel cabinet.
Two of his guards rushed into the archive. One had blood along his temple, but both remained standing.
“The east tunnel,” Damian ordered. “Reed knows every official exit.”
They found the club clerk wounded near the stairs. One of Damian’s men applied pressure to his shoulder while calling emergency services.
Damian led Della through a narrow passage beneath the archive.
“How long has Marcus worked for you?” she asked.
“Fifteen years.”
“You trusted him.”
“With everything.”
The answer carried no visible emotion.
That frightened Della.
Damian had been betrayed by the man responsible for guarding his life, yet he was burying the pain beneath strategy.
“You heard Caleb’s recording,” she said. “The initial M.”
“Marcus.”
“He helped Silas attack you seven years ago.”
“Or someone wants me to believe he did.”
“You’re still defending him?”
“I’m refusing to make assumptions while he has a case full of evidence and an army trying to kill us.”
They emerged near the harbor through an old drainage tunnel.
A second vehicle waited along the service road, arranged by one of Damian’s guards.
Before they reached it, Damian’s phone rang.
Marcus Reed.
Damian answered on speaker.
“You missed,” Damian said.
Marcus laughed once.
“If I wanted you dead in that archive, you would be dead.”
“Then why fire?”
“To create confusion. Silas had men coming through the north entrance. I took the case before they could.”
“Return it.”
“I can’t.”
Damian’s eyes darkened. “That was not a request.”
“Listen to me. Your organization is compromised at every level. Silas has judges, detectives, and at least two members of your council. If I walked out beside you, the evidence would never survive the hour.”
Della looked at Damian.
“Why should we believe you?” she asked.
Marcus was silent for a beat.
“Because I know where Owen Marsh is.”
Della stepped toward the phone. “Tell me.”
“Old maternity clinic on Mercer Street. It was closed five years ago, but Silas still uses the basement records office.”
“Why?”
“To alter birth certificates and medical identities.”
Caleb’s recording had mentioned vulnerable women and missing children.
Della’s hand moved protectively over her belly.
Marcus continued. “Owen contacted me six months ago. He wanted immunity in exchange for information. Caleb found out and tried to help him.”
“Caleb said Owen worked for Silas,” Della replied.
“He did. Then he learned what the foundation was really doing.”
“Did Owen kill my husband?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Silas gave the order. Cordelia arranged the vehicle.”
Della felt the world tilt.
Cordelia had not pushed her because of spilled champagne.
She had pushed the widow of a man she helped murder.
“Why?” Della whispered.
“Caleb copied the transaction files. Cordelia followed him from the foundation office. She forced his car toward the barrier while Owen watched from a second vehicle.”
“Watched?”
“He was supposed to block the road. He panicked and ran.”
Della closed her eyes.
Owen had not pulled the trigger, but he had left his brother to die.
The distinction brought no comfort.
“Where is he now?” Damian asked.
“At Mercer Street. But you need to move quickly. Silas knows the locker was opened.”
The call ended.
Damian ordered the driver toward the clinic.
Della grabbed his arm. “We should call the police.”
“Which police?”
“Not all of them belong to Silas.”
“No. But choosing the wrong one gets Owen killed before he can testify.”
“And going alone gets us killed.”
Damian looked at her.
“You are not going inside.”
“I have heard that before.”
“This is different.”
“It is always different when powerful men want women to wait somewhere safe.”
“This is not about control.”
“Then what is it about?”
His composure finally cracked.
“It is about the fact that I found you after seven years, and every person connected to me becomes a target. It is about someone trying to burn you alive less than twelve hours after I learned your name. It is about your child, who has already lost a father.”
Della’s anger softened but did not disappear.
“You cannot protect me by removing my choices.”
Damian looked away.
The vehicle stopped a block from the abandoned clinic.
Windows had been boarded. The faded sign still showed the outline of a mother holding an infant.
Damian gave her a small phone and pointed toward the car floor.
“There is an emergency button beneath the rear seat. If anyone approaches, press it.”
“You expect me to stay here?”
“For ten minutes.”
“And after ten?”
“Make your own choice.”
It was the closest thing to compromise he could offer.
Damian and two guards entered through the rear alley.
Della watched the clinic.
One minute passed.
Then two.
At four minutes, she saw movement behind a second-floor window.
At six, an unmarked police car turned onto Mercer Street.
The driver wore a detective’s badge.
Relief lasted until she recognized the passenger.
Cordelia Vance stepped out wearing a dark coat and sunglasses.
She was supposed to be in police custody.
The assault charge had already disappeared.
Cordelia spoke briefly to the detective, then pointed toward Damian’s vehicle.
Della ducked beneath the window.
Her fingers found the emergency button.
Before she could press it, the rear door opened.
A hand clamped over her mouth.
Owen Marsh dragged her from the SUV and pressed a gun against her ribs.
“Don’t scream,” he whispered.
Della froze.
Owen looked thinner than he had at the funeral, with a healing cut above his eye.
“I’m trying to save you.”
“You destroyed my apartment.”
“I was looking for the key before Silas found it.”
“You watched Caleb die.”
Pain crossed his face.
“I know.”
Della shoved him.
“You coward.”
“I know.”
Cordelia’s voice sounded from the corner.
“Owen?”
He pulled Della into the alley.
“She cannot see you,” he whispered. “She thinks I’m dead.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn’t.”
Owen handed her a flash drive.
“But Caleb did.”
Gunshots erupted inside the clinic.
Cordelia shouted orders.
Owen pushed Della toward a side door.
“Go to the basement. Find Damian.”
“What about you?”
May you like
He looked toward the approaching detective.
“I’m going to die a second time.”
