Chapter 6
James followed his daughter’s trembling finger. He walked slowly across the room, his polished shoes crunching over shattered glass and broken pearls. He crouched down, the fabric of his dress uniform pulling taut across his broad shoulders, and picked up the small brass key. The metal was cold and heavy in his hand.
He stood up, looking at Emily. "What is this, sweetheart?"
Emily swallowed hard, her fair skin completely pale. She pointed weakly down the hallway, past where Ryan lay unconscious. "Down the hall. At the very end. There’s a door they keep locked. Ryan told me it was just for storage, but... but he wouldn't even let the cleaning staff near it. Linda always kept the key."
James’s eyes narrowed. His Mafia instincts, honed over decades of betrayal and warfare, flared to life. He looked down at Linda, who was gasping for air amidst the scattered children's books and folded blankets.
He walked over and stood above her, casting a long, dark shadow over her bruised face.
"Tell me what that key opens," James demanded, his voice dead calm, carrying a lethal promise.
Linda coughed, clutching her ribs. She looked up at the towering former colonel, her face suddenly becoming intensely frightened. It wasn't just fear of the physical violence she had just endured; it was a deep, panic-stricken terror of what he was holding in his hand.
"It’s nothing," Linda choked out, her American accent wavering. "Just old family documents. Financial records. Please, James, just take Emily and leave."
"You are lying," James said softly. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, dialing a single digit. He held the phone to his ear, his cold eyes never leaving Linda's terrified face. "Get in here."
Seconds later, the heavy front door of the apartment swung open. Four white American adult men in dark, tailored suits—the Bennett bodyguards—flooded into the hallway. They moved with military precision, their eyes instantly taking in the wreckage of the grandfather clock, the unconscious husband, and the bleeding mother-in-law.
"Secure the perimeter," James ordered smoothly. "Lock the front door. Check the back exits."
"Yes, Boss," the lead bodyguard replied, instantly deploying his men.
"Dad, what is happening?" Emily asked, struggling to sit up against the headboard. "What is in that room?"
"We are going to find out," James said. He looked at two of his men. "Get her up. Put her in a chair. If she refuses to speak, break her fingers until she remembers how."
Linda shrieked as the two large men hauled her out of the ruined book display, forcing her into a sturdy wooden chair.
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"You can't do this!" Linda screamed. "You have no right!"
"I have every right," James whispered, walking slowly down the hallway toward the locked door.
