Chapter 6 - The Escape to the Coast
"The panic room has an underground tunnel that leads to the boat house by the sound," I said, grabbing her hand. "We go now."
We rushed down the master hallway into the grand bedroom. I shoved aside the heavy suits in the walk-in closet, pressed the hidden biometric scanner, and the reinforced steel door clicked open.
Inside, sitting on the carpet beneath the warm emergency lights, were Olivia, Sophie, and Nora.
When the door opened, they didn't scream. They saw Grace and me, and all three stood up instantly.
"Daddy!" Nora cried out, running into my legs.
I scooped her up, grabbing Sophie with my other arm, while Grace gathered Olivia.
"We're going on a ride, sweethearts," I told them softly, kissing Nora’s wet cheek. "We're going to see the ocean."
We stepped into the concrete tunnel behind the panic room. I pulled the heavy steel door shut, locking it from the inside with the electronic deadbolt, cutting off the mansion above us.
The tunnel was long, damp, and dimly lit by low-voltage floor strip lighting. It had been built sixty years ago by the bootlegging family who originally owned the estate, but I had updated it with concrete reinforcements and independent ventilation.
We walked fast, Grace keeping pace right beside me despite her heavy coat and wet shoes.
"What about Victor?" she asked quietly as we navigated the curving damp corridor.
"He's unconscious in the garage," I said coldly. "By the time his Brooklyn allies figure out what happened, my lieutenant Luca will be arriving with thirty of my best men from the docks. I sent an encrypted flash signal from my phone before I came up the stairs. Luca is clearing the estate as we speak."
Grace looked relieved, but her eyes remained guarded. "And after tonight? What happens to us? To them?"
I looked at my daughters. Olivia was holding Grace's fingers so tightly her small knuckles were white.
"After tonight, Victor and his syndicate are finished in New York," I declared softly. "I'm going to tear down every man who had a hand in Isabelle’s death. But for you and the girls... you'll be safe. I have a home in Maine under a private trust name. No one knows it exists."
"Maine?" Grace whispered, a faint note of longing in her voice. "I grew up near Portland."
"Then you know how quiet it is," I smiled gently. "No noise. No syndicates. Just trees, the ocean, and peace."
We reached the heavy iron door at the end of the tunnel. I slid the bolt back, pushing the door open into the cool, fresh air of the boat house.
The dark waters of Long Island Sound lapped gently against the slip. My forty-foot midnight-blue cigarette boat was tied to the posts, fully fueled and ready for blue-water runs.
I helped Grace and the girls onto the deck, ushering them into the plush leather cabin below deck where it was warm and dry.
"Stay down here," I told them. "I'm starting the engines."
May you like
I climbed up to the helm, hit the dual-engine ignition switches, and the twin V8 engines roared to life with a deep, throaty rumble that shook the wooden dock.
I cast off the heavy lines and pushed the throttles forward. The boat glided out of the boathouse into the dark, rain-swept waters of the Sound, leaving the burning chaos of the estate behind us in the dark mist.
