Chapter 2 - THE LOCKED CORRIDOR
“To stop you from following him.”
Mara said it without looking back.
Dante followed anyway.
The northwest service corridor lay beyond a pair of gold-trimmed doors concealed behind the ballroom's enormous floral wall. The moment they crossed through them, violins and polite applause became muffled beneath the heavier sounds of ventilation fans and rolling catering carts.
Finn was twenty feet ahead.
The gray-tuxedoed man disappeared around a corner.
“Finn,” Dante called.
Mara caught Dante's arm.
“Don't.”
He looked at her hand.
She released him immediately.
“Why?”
“Because that was too easy.”
A crash sounded beyond the corner.
Dante moved.
Mara cursed under her breath and followed.
They found Finn beside an overturned catering cart.
No gray tuxedo.
No attacker.
Only a terrified young server pressed against the wall.
“He went through there,” Finn said.
He pointed toward an emergency stairwell.
Dante reached for the door.
Mara blocked him.
“You really have a problem with instructions.”
“I have a problem with strangers giving them.”
“Then develop better survival instincts.”
Her tone was calm, but her eyes had moved to the ceiling.
Dante followed her gaze.
A tiny black device had been attached above the stairwell door.
Finn saw it.
“What is that?”
“Camera,” Mara said.
Dante frowned.
“They wanted us to follow.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Mara's face tightened.
“To see who came.”
The realization landed immediately.
This wasn't an assassination attempt.
It was reconnaissance.
Someone was mapping Dante's security response.
How quickly his men moved.
Who protected him.
Which routes they used.
And perhaps most importantly—
Mara.
Dante looked at her.
She had gone still.
“You knew.”
“No.”
“But you're not surprised.”
“That isn't the same thing.”
Dante stepped closer.
“Who are you?”
Before she could answer, every light in the corridor died.
Darkness swallowed them.
Someone screamed inside the ballroom.
Then came a sharp metallic sound.
Mara grabbed Dante by the lapel and pulled him sideways just as something shattered against the wall where his head had been.
Finn lunged toward them.
Emergency lights flickered red.
A man appeared at the far end of the corridor.
Not the gray tuxedo.
Another man.
He raised something in his hand.
Mara moved before Dante's security did.
She slammed a fire door closed between them.
A violent impact struck the metal.
Guests began screaming beyond the ballroom doors.
“Move,” Mara ordered.
This time Dante listened.
They entered the kitchen.
Cooks and servers were frozen beside counters covered in untouched desserts. Finn spoke rapidly into his radio while two security men sealed the corridor.
Dante watched Mara.
She wasn't frightened.
That bothered him more than fear would have.
“You've done this before.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Places with worse catering.”
Finn gave Dante an incredulous look.
Mara walked toward a stainless-steel prep counter.
Dante followed.
“Enough.”
She stopped.
He lowered his voice.
“You walked into my event under a name I can't verify. You identified two people before my security team did. You recognized surveillance equipment in seconds, and when the lights went out, you knew exactly where to move me.”
Mara looked at him.
“And you're upset because I was useful?”
“I'm upset because useful people usually come with explanations.”
“Not tonight.”
Dante's jaw hardened.
“You don't get to decide that.”
Her expression changed.
“You're accustomed to being obeyed.”
“Yes.”
“That must be exhausting for everyone around you.”
Finn almost smiled.
Dante ignored him.
“Search her.”
Mara's gaze cooled.
Finn hesitated.
Dante noticed.
Interesting.
Even Finn did not seem eager to try.
Mara slowly opened her small black clutch herself.
Phone.
Hotel key.
Lip balm.
Nothing else.
“No weapon,” she said.
Dante looked at her.
“You don't need one.”
For the first time that evening, Mara smiled.
It was barely there.
“You're learning.”
Finn's phone buzzed.
He checked the screen.
The amusement disappeared from his face.
“We have a problem.”
“What?”
“The woman in burgundy is gone.”
“And the man?”
“Gone too.”
“How?”
“We're checking cameras.”
Mara closed her clutch.
“They won't help.”
Finn looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because your cameras have been compromised.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
She nodded toward a security monitor mounted near the kitchen office.
The timestamp showed 9:14.
Dante checked his watch.
9:19.
Five-minute delay.
Finn swore.
Dante turned back to Mara.
“Start talking.”
She looked toward the ballroom.
“You should evacuate your guests first.”
“My people are doing that.”
“Quietly?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Mara.”
Her eyes returned to him.
Something almost painful appeared there.
“My name isn't Mara Vale.”
Finn's posture changed.
Dante felt the room become colder.
“What is it?”
She hesitated.
“Marina Valescu.”
The name meant nothing to him.
But Finn went pale.
Dante saw it immediately.
“You know it?”
Finn stared at Mara.
“I know another Valescu.”
Mara said nothing.
Finn looked at Dante.
“Adrian Valescu.”
Dante's stomach tightened.
He knew that name.
Everyone in his father's generation did.
Adrian Valescu had been an accountant for several powerful Chicago families twenty years earlier.
Then he had disappeared.
Not retired.
Not relocated.
Disappeared.
Rumor said Adrian had stolen millions.
Another rumor said he'd been an informant.
A third said he'd collected enough evidence to destroy half the men who once employed him.
Dante remembered his father mentioning the name only once.
Never trust a man who keeps two ledgers.
Dante looked at Mara.
“Your father?”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
“Dead.”
Silence.
“When?”
“Seventeen years ago.”
Dante did the calculation.
Mara would have been fifteen.
“How?”
She stared at him.
“Your father knows.”
The words hit harder than Dante expected.
“My father has been dead for eight years.”
“I know.”
“Then explain.”
Mara stepped closer.
“I didn't come here to kill you, Dante.”
“That isn't especially comforting.”
“I came because someone has spent seventeen years making sure you never learned what happened the night my father died.”
Dante held her gaze.
“And tonight?”
“Tonight they're cleaning up.”
“Cleaning up what?”
“Everyone who can prove it.”
Finn's phone rang again.
He answered.
His face changed.
“What?”
Dante demanded.
Finn lowered the phone slowly.
“The guest list.”
“What about it?”
“Someone altered it forty-eight hours ago.”
Dante looked at Mara.
She whispered, “How many names?”
Finn swallowed.
“Seven.”
Mara's face lost its color.
“Show me.”
Finn held out the phone.
Mara scanned the names.
On the fourth one, she stopped breathing.
Dante watched her.
“Who?”
She turned the screen toward him.
The name was Evelyn Cavalari.
His mother.
Dante stared.
“That isn't possible.”
Evelyn had refused to attend the gala.
At least, that was what Dante had been told.
Finn's phone buzzed again.
A text message.
He read it.
Then looked at Dante.
“Your mother's car just arrived.”
Across the hotel, the elevator bell chimed.
May you like
Mara whispered one sentence.
“If she walks into that ballroom, someone dies.”
