Chapter 6 - The Setup
Panic surged through me like an electric current.
I didn't scream. Screaming on the thirty-fourth floor of an empty concrete tower over the roar of the city winds was utterly useless. Instead, I grabbed the heavy brass sample sconce from the workbench beside me and hurled it with all my strength straight at the lead man’s face.
The heavy metal struck him square across the bridge of his nose with a sickening crunch. He roared in agony, dropping the weapon as blood erupted from his nostrils.
“Get her!” he snarled, clutching his face.
I didn't wait to see if the other two would fire. I turned and sprinted blindly toward the east wing.
I knew this layout better than anyone alive. I had drawn every wall, every partition, every conduit. While Romano’s goons saw an unfinished, echoing floor of drywall and exposed steel, I saw a labyrinth of strategic choke points.
Gunfire tore through the silence—the muffled thwip-thwip of suppressed rounds chewing into the drywall behind me, sending plumes of white plaster dust into the air.
I ducked behind the reinforced structural pillar of the master suite, scrambling toward the secret access panel Lucian had insisted on installing behind the closet cabinetry. My fingers scrambled against the unfinished baseboard, locating the manual release latch Gideon had demonstrated just two days ago.
Click.
The panel swung open, revealing the narrow utility duct that fed directly into the private fire stairwell. I squeezed through just as heavy footsteps pounded into the master bedroom.
“She’s gone! Check the balconies!”
I slammed the interior hatch shut, throwing the mechanical deadbolt from the inside, and scrambled down the steel stairs into the darkness.
My phone was still clutched in my sweat-slicked palm. With trembling thumbs, I dialed the only number that mattered. The encrypted line that had started this entire nightmare.
He answered on the first half-ring.
“Harper?” Lucian’s voice was sharp, immediate.
“They’re inside the penthouse,” I gasped, tears finally spilling over my lashes as I half-fell, half-ran down the concrete steps. “Romano’s men. Three of them. They had guns, Lucian! Kyle warned me—Romano wants the security blueprints!”
A terrifying, volcanic silence filled the other end of the line. When Lucian spoke again, the suave, charming billionaire was completely gone. In his place was the ruthless commander of Chicago’s underworld.
“Where are you right now?” he demanded, his voice chillingly calm.
“Service stairwell, passing the twenty-eighth floor. I locked the primary duct behind me, but they’ll figure it out soon.”
“Gideon is already at the base of the tower with an assault team,” Lucian said, the sound of a vehicle engine roaring in the background. “Do not exit into the ground floor lobby. The building’s maintenance access opens into the underground parking bay on level B2. Gideon will meet you at the service door. Harper?”
“Yes?” I sobbed, my lungs burning with exhaustion.
“You hit one of them, didn't you?”
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“I broke his nose with an eighty-dollar brass wall sconce,” I choked out.
A deadly, prideful chuckle resonated through the speaker. “That’s my girl. Keep moving. I’m three minutes away.”
