Chapter 2 - THREE MINUTES UNTIL MIDNIGHT
Dominic Vale had three minutes to decide whether sixty people lived or died.
“Everybody out.”
Nobody moved.
They were too shocked.
Dominic's voice exploded across the ballroom.
“MOVE!”
That worked.
Guests rushed toward the exits.
Champagne glasses fell.
Someone screamed.
Security opened the west doors and directed people toward the reinforced lower level.
Marco carried the explosive device away from the tree.
“Boss, I need the bomb unit.”
“Roads are closed.”
“I know.”
“How long?”
Marco glanced at the timer.
2:31.
“Too long.”
Dominic looked toward Elena.
The doctor had wrapped her in blankets.
She was conscious now but weak.
He crossed to her.
“We're moving you.”
Her eyes struggled to focus.
“What happened?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
She almost laughed.
“That's usually what people say when I should worry.”
Even half frozen, she challenged him.
Dominic felt something unfamiliar tighten in his chest.
“Can you stand?”
“I don't think so.”
He lifted her before she could argue.
Vanessa remained near the staircase.
“Dominic!”
He ignored her.
“Where am I supposed to go?”
“Anywhere away from me.”
“You can't possibly think I planted a bomb.”
He stopped.
“No.”
Vanessa's expression softened slightly.
“Then—”
“I think someone used your cruelty as camouflage.”
Her face changed.
Dominic carried Elena toward the secure wing.
Marco followed with the explosive device in a blast container.
1:43.
The secure room was built beneath the mansion.
Steel walls.
Independent ventilation.
Emergency communications.
Dominic placed Elena on a medical cot.
The doctor continued warming her.
Marco connected the detonator receiver to a diagnostic unit.
“Signal-based.”
“What does that mean?” Dominic asked.
“It needs an external command plus timer synchronization.”
“So someone nearby controls it.”
“Yes.”
Dominic looked at his security chief.
“Inside the property?”
“Probably.”
Elena whispered:
“The man.”
Dominic turned.
“What man?”
She closed her eyes.
“Catering uniform.”
Marco leaned closer.
“You saw him?”
“Earlier.”
“When?”
“Near the pantry.”
“What did he look like?”
Elena struggled.
“Tall. Dark beard. Scar near his ear.”
Marco froze.
Dominic noticed.
“You know him.”
Marco looked up.
“Maybe.”
“Who?”
“A man named Elias Kane.”
Dominic's expression hardened.
Kane had once worked security for Dominic's organization.
Five years earlier, he had sold information to the Romano family.
Dominic ordered him out of Colorado under threat of death.
“What is Kane doing here?”
Marco shook his head.
“No idea.”
The timer reached twenty seconds.
Marco moved everyone behind the steel barrier.
Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
Elena's hand found Dominic's sleeve.
He looked down.
She wasn't asking for protection.
She was simply afraid.
He covered her hand with his.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
Nothing happened.
The timer stopped at 00:01.
Marco stared.
“Why didn't it detonate?”
Dominic's phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A message.
GOOD. YOU FOUND IT.
A second message followed.
THE BOMB WAS NEVER MEANT TO KILL YOU.
Dominic's jaw tightened.
Then a photograph arrived.
Elena.
Taken through the kitchen window three weeks earlier.
Preparing coffee.
Another photograph.
Elena leaving the servants' quarters.
Another.
Elena calling someone near the greenhouse.
Dominic slowly looked at her.
She was pale beneath the blankets.
“Why does someone have photographs of you?”
Elena stared at the phone.
“I don't know.”
Then Marco's device beeped.
He had recovered the bomb's digital signature.
“This thing was built to look military, but the explosive wasn't enough to destroy the ballroom.”
Dominic frowned.
“Then what was it for?”
“Noise. Panic. Fire.”
“A diversion.”
Marco nodded.
Dominic's instincts sharpened.
“For what?”
Security called through the intercom.
“Boss, we have a breach in the east office.”
Dominic went still.
His private office.
He ran upstairs.
The guests had been evacuated.
The mansion was nearly empty.
Dominic entered the office.
His safe stood open.
No damage.
No forced entry.
Someone had used the code.
Inside, cash remained.
Jewelry remained.
Weapons remained.
Only one thing was missing.
A red leather ledger.
Marco arrived.
His expression changed.
“Oh, hell.”
The ledger contained Dominic's private records of debts owed, favors exchanged, and secret financial arrangements across three states.
But the most dangerous pages weren't about Dominic.
They concerned a man named Frank Brooks.
Elena's father.
Dominic looked toward the open safe.
“What was Brooks doing in my ledger?”
Marco hesitated.
“Boss…”
“Tell me.”
“Frank Brooks wasn't just a gambler.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“What was he?”
Marco swallowed.
“A confidential informant.”
“For who?”
“Your father.”
Dominic went still.
His father had been murdered eight years earlier.
Marco continued.
“Frank Brooks helped your father identify a traitor inside the Vale organization.”
Dominic looked toward the hallway where Elena had been taken.
“And Elena knows?”
“No.”
“Who was the traitor?”
Marco looked at the empty place where the ledger had been.
“We never found out.”
Then security radio crackled.
A guard shouted:
“Boss, vehicle approaching the south gate.”
“Identify.”
A pause.
“Black SUV. No plates.”
Another pause.
“Driver says he has a Christmas gift for Elena Brooks.”
Dominic and Marco exchanged a glance.
The SUV stopped outside the gate.
The driver stepped out.
Then opened the rear door.
A man was pushed into the snow.
His hands bound.
Face bloodied.
Elena's father.
Frank Brooks.
May you like
And tied around his neck was a sign:
ASK YOUR DAUGHTER WHAT SHE REMEMBERS ABOUT THE NIGHT DOMINIC VALE'S FATHER DIED.
