Chapter 5 - The Tunnel
"Grace," Dominic panted, turning toward the housekeeper. "Get the girls out through the south gate. Take my car keys—the bulletproof Lincoln in the courtyard. Drive straight to Precinct 4 and ask for Captain Miller. Show him my signet ring. He’s the only one left I trust."
Grace didn't hesitate. She grabbed her coat from the peg, her face grim. "And you?"
"I’m going down into the tunnels," Dominic said, his voice dropping into the icy register of a mob boss whose family had just been put in the crosshairs. "Marcus had an accomplice. A man inside my inner circle who gave him the security override codes Isabelle's first night. I'm going to find out who's waiting at the other end of that tunnel."
Dominic rushed to the hidden service door behind the pantry, pulling it open to reveal the dark, winding stone staircase descending deep into the foundation of the Long Island estate.
He didn't wait for a flashlight. He grabbed a heavy iron poker from the hearth and plunged down into the damp, echoing dark.
The air down here smelled of stagnant earth and old brick. The stone walls were slick with moisture, dripping water echoing like a metronome in the silence. Dominic moved with silent, practiced precision, his boots making barely a sound against the flagstone floor.
After fifty yards, the tunnel branched off toward the old cliffside boat house overlooking the Sound.
From the darkness ahead came a faint sound.
A shuffle of fabric.
And the distinct, unmistakable click of a rifle bolt being pulled back.
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Dominic froze in the shadows, pressing his back flat against the cold damp brick, his pulse thrumming in his ears as a muffled voice echoed down the tunnel:
"Marcus? Did you take care of Romano, or do I have to finish the job myself?"
