Chapter 7 - The Escape and the Shelter
Locked in the penthouse bedroom on the 40th floor, I felt a wave of absolute panic. But then, I looked out the window. Alejandro had taken my phone, but he had forgotten one thing—the old, hardwired intercom system connected to the building's concierge desk, which I had secretly modified months ago to link to an external line for emergencies.
I rushed to the closet where the panel was located. I tore the cover off and patched the emergency line through. I dialed the only number I had memorized—the burner phone I had left with Robert.
It rang three times.
"Robert! It's me," I whispered urgently. "Alejandro knows. He has people watching you. You need to leave the apartment immediately."
"Where are you, Mariana?" Robert’s voice was instantly alert, filled with fierce protection.
"I'm trapped in the penthouse. He’s going to force me to the gala tomorrow night to keep up appearances before he gets rid of us. Robert, the server keys are still in his office, but Sarah says we can bypass them if we get the physical backup drive from the shipping warehouse at the Port of Chicago."
"I know that warehouse," Robert said without hesitation. "Your father took me there once. I can get in. But what about you?"
"I'll survive the gala. Just get the drive to the federal building downtown. There's an Assistant U.S. Attorney named Vance who hates Alejandro. Find him."
The next evening, Alejandro entered the bedroom. I was dressed in a stunning, emerald green silk gown, my makeup flawless to hide the pale terror underneath.
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"Beautiful," Alejandro murmured, offering his arm. "Remember, Mariana. One wrong look, one whisper to a reporter, and Robert dies before the night is over."
As we drove to the grand gala at the Drake Hotel, I stared out at the city lights, praying that Robert was safe, and that the man who had spent seven years in the shadows could find the strength to bring down the monsters in the light.
