Chapter 11 - Pier Nine
Flames were already punching through the roof when we reached the harbor.
Fire crews had not arrived yet.
That was intentional.
Someone had blocked the access road with a jackknifed truck.
Grace was out of our vehicle before it stopped moving.
"Noah!"
I caught up with her near the loading dock.
"We don't know he's inside."
"Then move faster."
Smoke rolled through the warehouse doors.
Marco and two loyal men entered from the east side. Grace and I went through the loading bay.
Inside, wooden crates burned in rows. Ammunition popped somewhere deeper in the building.
Then I heard it.
A baby crying.
Grace heard it too.
She ran toward the sound.
We found a white bassinet behind a stack of crates.
Grace tore away the blanket.
Her face collapsed.
A speaker sat inside the bassinet, playing a recording of an infant crying.
A decoy.
"No," she whispered.
I looked around.
On the wall above the bassinet someone had painted a red V.
Vittoria.
Then the door behind us slammed.
A chain rattled outside.
"Back!" I shouted.
We ran as flames climbed the shelves.
A beam crashed behind us.
The ceiling groaned.
Grace spotted a forklift and climbed into the seat.
"You know how to drive that?" I yelled.
"No!"
She rammed the controls forward anyway.
The forklift lurched and smashed through a side panel.
Cold night air rushed in.
We dove through the opening seconds before part of the roof collapsed.
Outside, Grace fell to her knees, coughing.
I held her shoulders.
"He's not dead."
"You don't know that."
"Your mother wants leverage. Dead children aren't leverage."
Grace looked at me, eyes red from smoke.
"I hate that you're right."
Marco ran toward us dragging a man in a black jacket.
"Caught him trying to leave by boat."
I recognized him.
Victor Sanz, Dante's longtime driver.
I grabbed him.
"Where is Noah?"
Victor spat blood onto the pavement.
"Ask your mother."
Grace stepped closer.
"We did. She keeps sending us on tours."
Victor laughed, then winced.
"She isn't running anymore."
"What does that mean?"
He looked at me.
"She called a council. Dawn tomorrow. Old chapel at the estate."
My family had used that chapel for weddings, baptisms, funerals, and secret decisions for generations.
"Why?"
Victor smiled through split lips.
"To replace you."
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
May you like
My mother's voice said, "Come home, Adrian. Bring Grace."
Then a baby cried in the background.
