Chapter 5 - The Vault of Secrets
The midnight air in downtown Manhattan was freezing, biting through my thin wool coat as we stepped out of the SUV. The bank building before us was a towering monolith of gray stone and reinforced glass, dark and silent against the neon-lit sky.
Except for the side security door, which swung open silently as Leo approached it with a heavy brass key.
“The manager has been... cooperative,” Leo murmured, holding the door for us.
“Did we really need to break in?” I whispered, casting a nervous glance up and down the empty street.
“Banks don’t open deposit boxes for dead men at midnight,” Dante replied smoothly, stepping past me into the dimly lit marble lobby. “And we don't have time to wait for bank hours.”
Orion trotted close to my side, his claws clicking softly against the polished floor. The massive dog had refused to leave my apartment or the brownstone, sticking to me like a shadow. Dante hadn't argued once.
We descended a winding concrete staircase into the subterranean depths of the vault level. The air smelled of old paper, cold metal, and dust. Leo punched a code into a heavy steel keypad, and with a deep, hydraulic groan, the main vault door swung open.
Rows upon rows of safety deposit boxes stretched out into the shadows.
“Box 412,” Dante said, checking a slip of paper he had retrieved from my father’s file.
We found it halfway down the third aisle. Dante inserted the heavy brass key alongside his own master key, turning them in unison. The small metal door clicked open, revealing a velvet-lined interior.
Inside wasn't money. It wasn't jewelry.
It was a black leather journal and a heavy flash drive.
Dante reached in, pulling out the journal first. He flipped it open to the first page, and his breath caught in his throat. The stoic, untouchable crime lord actually stumbled half a step backward.
“What is it?” I asked, stepping closer.
Dante looked up at me, his gray eyes burning with an intensity that terrified me. “It’s Evelyn’s handwriting. Every financial transaction, every shell company, every name of every corrupt federal official in New York from 1995 to the present.”
“That’s the ledger?”
“That’s the ledger,” Dante confirmed. He turned the page, stopping at a specific entry dated two days before my mother's supposed death.
Written in bold, jagged letters across the margin were three words:
*‘If I die, look for Thomas.’*
“Who is Thomas?” I demanded.
Before Dante could answer, a sharp, piercing sound echoed through the subterranean vault.
*Beep. Beep. Beep.*
Leo whipped around, his hand flying to the pistol beneath his jacket. “Boss. The perimeter sensors on the ground floor just tripped. We’ve been compromised.”
Dante slammed the safety deposit box shut, pocketing the journal and flash drive with lightning speed. “How many?”
“At least four,” Leo said, his voice tight. “Professional. They bypassed the silent alarms.”
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Panic spiked through my veins, cold and sharp. “They followed us?”
“No,” Dante said, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the exit stairs. “They were already waiting.”
