Chapter 9 - Beneath the Nursery
The air in the hidden sub-level was freezing, smelling of damp limestone, old copper, and stagnant water.
I led the way down the narrow stone staircase behind the nursery walk-in closet, holding a high-powered tactical flashlight in one hand and my pistol in the other. Behind me, Marco and two armed enforcers followed closely, their boots echoing softly in the subterranean corridor.
This section of the foundation had been built during the prohibition era by my grandfather—a vault designed to hide contraband and emergency records from federal raids. But according to Vance’s stolen ledger, something else had been stashed down here for over a decade.
"Clear the threshold," I murmured, stepping into a damp, iron-reinforced chamber illuminated by rows of humming, battery-operated server racks.
Marco stepped past me, sweeping his rifle across the room before lowering it in stunned silence. "Boss... look at this."
The room was filled with old computer terminals, communication interception gear, and bank monitors displaying live, real-time data feeds from every major financial institution in Chicago. But right in the center of the room sat a massive, reinforced glass containment cylinder—empty, its heavy steel door hanging wide open, leaking a trail of heavy frost onto the concrete floor.
Inside the cylinder was a single, rusted medical restraint harness and a plaque bearing a name I hadn't heard spoken in twelve years.
Project V-12: Subject Lucia Moretti.
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My breath caught in my throat. My sister Lucia. The official police report twelve years ago claimed she had overdosed in her bedroom upstairs and her body was cremated immediately per family protocol.
Except she had never left this house. She had been kept down here.
