Chapter 7 - THE SISTER IN THE BLACK COATThe woman’s name was Elena Bell.
She was thirty-two, seven years older than me, and carried herself with the confidence of someone who had learned early that weakness attracted predators. Her black coat was wet at the shoulders. A pale scar crossed one eyebrow. In her right hand, she held a small silver pistol aimed at Valentina.
Valentina’s face emptied of color.
“You’re dead,” she whispered.
“You were told I was dead.”
Damen moved beside her.
“Elena is the reason your mother’s escape failed,” he said. “She found Clara first.”
I looked at the woman who claimed to be my sister.
“Is it true?”
Elena kept her eyes on me.
“Our mother gave me to Adrian when I was three. He thought Carlo would kill us both if we stayed together.”
“Then why have I never heard of you?”
“Because Adrian died before he could come back.”
“And Clara?”
Pain flickered across her face.
“She believed I was dead.”
Margaret stirred inside the ticket booth.
“Elena, don’t listen to him.”
“You knew?” I asked.
The old woman lowered her head.
“I knew there was another child. I didn’t know she survived.”
Damen laughed.
“Families are wonderful things. Everyone lies to protect the person they love, and every lie leaves another person exposed.”
Lorenzo’s voice came through the transmitter beneath my collar.
“Sophia, keep talking. We’re two blocks out.”
I tried not to react.
Elena’s eyes shifted toward my coat.
She knew.
“You brought him,” she said.
“I brought nobody.”
“Your hand is too steady.”
“I’m terrified.”
“You’re his type, then.”
“What does that mean?”
“He collects women who are afraid and calls it protection.”
The words should have angered me. Instead, they landed somewhere complicated because I had wondered the same thing.
Damen lifted his gun toward the booth.
“Enough family introductions. Give me the locket.”
I touched the silver flower.
“Where is the recording?”
“Under the chapel.”
“What is on it?”
“Your father’s confession.”
“Adrian’s?”
“Carlo’s.”
Damen’s eyes sharpened.
“Your mother hid a recording of Carlo admitting he ordered Adrian’s murder. The ledger names the officials he paid. The recording proves the order came from inside the Moretti family.”
“And you want it because?”
“Because I want the money your family stole.”
“Not justice?”
“Justice is what poor people call revenge when they cannot afford lawyers.”
Elena’s pistol moved slightly.
“You killed my sister.”
“I did not kill your sister.”
Valentina stared at him.
“You told me she was dead.”
“She was dead when I found her.”
“You left her in the alley.”
“I left a body.”
“You left a child.”
The statement made the platform go silent.
I looked at Elena.
She did not look back.
“Who was the child?” I asked.
Elena’s lips tightened.
“Me.”
Damen had found her after the attack and raised her inside his network, teaching her how to disappear, how to steal, how to survive. He had used her to locate Clara. He had used her to track Valentina. And now he had brought her to make me doubt everyone.
“Why help him?” I asked.
Elena finally met my eyes.
“Because when you are three years old and a stranger tells you your family abandoned you, you believe him.”
I understood then that she was not the villain standing on the platform. She was another child who had been handed from one dangerous adult to another.
“Elena,” I said carefully, “you can leave.”
“Not while Damen has Margaret.”
“He can’t protect you.”
“Neither can you.”
“Maybe not. But I can tell you the truth.”
Her expression changed.
“What truth?”
“Our mother loved you. She kept looking for you.”
“That is not what Damen said.”
“Damen lies when it benefits him.”
“And you?”
“I lie when I’m trying not to die.”
For the first time, Elena smiled.
“At least you admit it.”
The lights went out.
Gunfire erupted from both ends of the platform.
Damen’s men fired toward the entrance. Lorenzo’s team answered from the darkness.
Valentina dove behind the ticket booth. I dropped to the ground as glass shattered above me. Elena grabbed Margaret’s chair and dragged it sideways while bullets punched through the wooden frame.
“Why are you helping me?” I shouted.
“Because you look like our mother.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
We reached the far wall. Elena kicked open a maintenance door and pulled Margaret through. Valentina followed. I brought up the rear, heart hammering.
The corridor beyond smelled of rust and river water.
“Where does this lead?” I asked.
“To the flood tunnels.”
“Of course it does.”
Behind us, Damen shouted Elena’s name.
She flinched.
“He is coming,” Margaret said.
“He always comes,” Elena answered.
We moved through the tunnel. Margaret could barely walk. Valentina supported her from one side, I supported the other. The three of us made an unlikely line: a frightened old woman, a disgraced bride, and a maid carrying the bloodline of a family that had tried to erase her.
At the end of the passage, Lorenzo appeared with Marco.
He pulled me against him before checking anyone else.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Your transmitter went dead.”
“The lights.”
He touched my face as if confirming I was real.
Elena watched him.
“So this is the man who collects women.”
Lorenzo raised his gun.
“Who are you?”
“Sophia’s sister.”
His gaze moved to me.
“She’s telling the truth.”
“How do you know?”
I held up the burned birth record.
“Because Margaret has been hiding her for thirty years.”
Lorenzo looked at Elena again.
“Are you working with Voss?”
Elena’s answer was interrupted by a deep rumble beneath our feet.
The station walls shook.
Marco looked toward the ceiling.
“Explosives.”
Damen’s voice echoed through the tunnel.
“You have five minutes before the river takes the station.”
Elena turned toward me.
“He placed charges near the old floodgates.”
“Can they be disabled?” Lorenzo asked.
“Only from inside the control room.”
“Where is it?”
Elena pointed to a narrow passage.
“That way.”
Lorenzo caught my arm.
“You stay with Marco.”
“I can read the old building plans.”
“You are not going into a flooding tunnel.”
“Neither are you.”
He stared at me.
“I’m going.”
“Then so am I.”
Something like exasperation crossed his face.
“You are impossible.”
“You noticed.”
We ran with Elena toward the control room.
Water burst through the far wall as the first gate failed. The tunnel filled around our ankles, then our knees. Margaret was pulled to safety by Marco. Valentina stayed behind with her.
Inside the control room, four red lights blinked above a rusted console. Three charges were wired beneath the main panel.
Elena dropped beside them.
“The blue wires are decoys.”
“How do you know?” Lorenzo asked.
“Damen taught me.”
The water reached my waist.
I saw the fourth wire, hidden behind a pipe.
“That one,” I said.
Elena looked.
“The green wire?”
“It’s coated in the same yellow cleaner from the mansion. Someone carried the detonator through the service tunnel.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure it’s been handled recently.”
Elena cut it.
The red lights went dark.
The station stopped shaking.
For a moment, we heard only the water.
Then a bullet struck the console.
Damen stood in the doorway.
He raised his weapon at me.
Lorenzo moved in front of me.
Damen smiled.
“Now I understand why Carlo feared Adrian’s daughter.”
He fired.
Lorenzo fell backward into the water.
My scream was swallowed by the tunnel.
I lunged toward him, but Elena pulled me behind the console as a second bullet struck the wall. Water splashed against the exposed wires, sending blue sparks across the room.
“Stay down,” she shouted.
“He’s been shot!”
“If you stand, you’ll be shot too.”
Lorenzo pushed himself upright with one hand. Blood spread beneath his collar, but he raised his weapon toward the doorway.
“Damen,” he called. “You missed.”
The tunnel fell silent.
Then Damen answered from the darkness.
“I was aiming for the girl.”
Lorenzo fired toward the voice. A body struck the far wall, but it was one of Damen’s men, not Damen himself.
“He’s running,” Marco said through the earpiece.
I pressed my hand over Lorenzo’s wound. His blood was hot against my fingers.
“You should have stayed behind me,” he whispered.
“You should have learned to duck.”
His mouth moved in something almost like a smile.
The floodwater kept rising. We had minutes to escape, and every second made the path to the surface more dangerous.
Elena reached for Lorenzo’s uninjured arm. “Can you stand?”
“I can walk.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
He looked at her and gave the smallest nod.
We moved together through the water. Marco went first, breaking open the rusted gate with a metal bar. I stayed beside Lorenzo, keeping pressure on his shoulder while Elena watched the rear passage.
At the top of the tunnel, cold rain struck my face. I had never been so grateful for an ordinary storm.
Lorenzo leaned against the stone wall.
“You’re going to the hospital,” I said.
“I’m going to find Lena.”
“You can do both.”
He looked toward the station where Damen had disappeared.
May you like
“Not if the people who took her believe the family is still divided.”
I understood. Fear had brought us into the tunnel separately. Survival had forced us to leave together.
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