Chapter 8 - “YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED INVISIBLE”Sofia had never seen Peter Voss look calm until he pointed a gun at her.
“You should have stayed invisible,” he said.
The hospital parking garage was almost empty.
Rainwater dripped from the concrete ceiling.
Sofia slowly raised her hands.
“You were trying to take Eli.”
Peter smiled.
“No.”
“Your assistant was.”
“She believed she was following legal instructions.”
“You sent her.”
Peter shrugged.
“Words are interesting things, Sofia. Tell someone a child is being moved for safety and suddenly everyone becomes helpful.”
“You’re finished.”
“Am I?”
“Katherine recorded you.”
His smile disappeared.
For the first time, Sofia saw rage.
“Katherine always thought she was smarter than everyone.”
“She was smarter than you.”
Peter stepped closer.
“Careful.”
Sofia forced herself not to move.
She had one advantage.
Peter was angry.
Angry people talked.
“You killed her because she found your money.”
“She destroyed herself.”
“You sabotaged her car.”
“Owen did.”
“Because you ordered him.”
Peter’s jaw tightened.
“You know nothing about what I built.”
“You stole it.”
“I saved Mercer Global.”
His voice rose.
“Grant got the name. Grant got the shares. Grant got the newspapers calling him a genius. I did the work.”
There it was.
Not money.
Not really.
Resentment.
Years of it.
Sofia kept him talking.
“So Eli had to die because a baby owned something you wanted?”
Peter laughed bitterly.
“That baby would eventually inherit control of an empire I spent my life building.”
“And that made poisoning him acceptable?”
Peter stared at her.
“I never touched him.”
“You changed the house.”
Silence.
Sofia heard footsteps in the stairwell.
Peter heard them too.
He grabbed her arm.
“Move.”
He forced her toward a black SUV.
Then a voice echoed.
“Police! Drop the weapon!”
Peter shoved Sofia aside and ran.
A shot cracked.
Concrete exploded near the stairwell.
Sofia dropped behind a vehicle.
Officers flooded the garage.
Peter disappeared down the ramp.
By the time Grant arrived, Hart was helping Sofia stand.
“Where is he?”
“He escaped.”
Grant looked at Sofia.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
“You keep saying that after people try to kill you.”
Despite the terror, she laughed once.
Grant didn’t.
“Never do that again.”
“Do what?”
“Follow a dangerous person into a garage.”
“I thought she was taking Eli.”
“Then call security.”
“I did.”
Grant stopped.
Of course she had.
Sofia looked at him.
“You can’t protect everyone by yourself.”
The words hit harder than she intended.
Grant had spent his entire life believing the opposite.
By evening Peter’s face was on every major news network.
Police searched his properties.
Airports.
Marinas.
Private clubs.
Nothing.
Owen finally agreed to cooperate fully.
He provided access codes, offshore account information, and the location of a second encrypted archive.
Inside were records connecting Peter to more than $38 million in stolen charitable funds.
Then investigators uncovered something unexpected.
Peter had purchased Mercer House architectural plans three months earlier.
Not current plans.
Original blueprints.
Including service tunnels.
Hart spread them across the hospital conference table.
Grant studied them.
One tunnel connected the mechanical wing to the old carriage house.
Another ran from the basement to the coastal cliffs.
Sofia pointed.
“This one.”
Hart looked.
“Why?”
“The entrance is behind the old wine cellar.”
Grant’s stomach dropped.
“What?”
Sofia looked at him.
“I saw someone repairing that wall two weeks ago.”
“Who?”
“Owen.”
Hart immediately called tactical officers.
They searched the tunnel.
At 11:18 p.m., police found signs someone had recently used it.
Food.
Water.
Clothing.
A laptop charger.
Peter had been hiding beneath Grant’s own house.
But he wasn’t there anymore.
Then Grant received a message.
Unknown number.
One photograph.
Eli’s nursery.
Taken from inside the mansion.
Current timestamp.
Grant stared at it.
Another message appeared.
COME HOME ALONE.
Hart read it.
“No.”
Grant looked at her.
“He’s in my house.”
“We send SWAT.”
“He’ll know.”
“That’s the point.”
Grant looked at Sofia.
She was staring at the photograph.
“Zoom in.”
Grant did.
The nursery appeared empty.
But Sofia pointed toward the mirror.
A reflection.
A red light.
“Is that normally there?”
Grant frowned.
“No.”
Sofia’s face changed.
“The ventilation control.”
Hart understood.
“He’s connected to the system again.”
Grant was already moving.
Thirty minutes later, police surrounded Mercer House from a distance.
Grant entered alone wearing a concealed transmitter.
The mansion felt dead.
“Peter?”
His voice echoed.
Nothing.
He walked toward the nursery.
Peter stepped from the darkness.
Gun in hand.
“Welcome home.”
Grant stopped.
Peter looked exhausted.
Suit wrinkled.
Hair wet.
But his eyes were sharp.
“Where is everyone?”
“Outside.”
“Good.”
Grant looked toward the wall control.
“What did you do?”
Peter smiled.
“Nothing yet.”
“What do you want?”
“The trust documents.”
“You’re facing murder charges.”
“I’m facing accusations.”
“Katherine is dead.”
Peter’s expression hardened.
“And somehow she still won’t shut up.”
Grant took one step forward.
Peter raised the gun.
“Don’t.”
Grant stopped.
Peter held out his hand.
“The original trust amendment.”
“Why?”
“Because without it, prosecutors have motive.”
“You already have motive.”
“Then humor me.”
Grant realized Peter was desperate.
Not rational.
And desperate men made mistakes.
“What happens after I give it to you?”
Peter smiled.
“You finally learn what it feels like to lose everything.”
Then the lights went out.
Complete darkness.
Grant heard Peter curse.
A second later, emergency lights activated.
Sofia’s voice sounded through Grant’s hidden earpiece.
“I shut down the mansion automation.”
Grant’s eyes widened.
She was outside with Hart.
Peter looked toward the control panel.
“What happened?”
Grant smiled for the first time.
“The maid.”
May you like
Peter’s face twisted.
And somewhere beneath the house, alarms began screaming.
