Chapter 2 - The Man at the Balcony
“Down!”
Roman slammed Adrian behind the staircase as the first shot cracked through the foyer.
Marble exploded from the column.
Guards fired upward.
Evelyn dropped behind a velvet bench, hands over her ears, fighting the scream rising in her throat.
The man on the balcony disappeared.
“Hold fire!” Adrian shouted.
The command cut through the chaos.
“Boss, stay down,” Roman snapped.
“Who was it?”
Nobody answered.
Adrian looked at Evelyn.
“You saw him.”
She nodded.
“Who?”
“Father Brennan.”
The silence after the name felt impossible.
Even Roman stared.
Father Thomas Brennan had known Adrian for twenty-two years.
He had officiated at Adrian’s mother’s funeral.
He had baptized children of men who worked for the Blackwell organization.
Every Sunday when Adrian was in Phoenix, Brennan arrived at eight-thirty, drank coffee in the east dining room, and spent an hour alone with him.
People said he was the only man in Arizona Adrian trusted without question.
Evelyn had heard Brennan’s voice through the service door.
“He leaves at three.”
Now the priest had just fired into the foyer.
Roman raised his radio.
“Find Brennan.”
Adrian caught his wrist.
“Alive.”
Roman gave him a hard look.
“He just tried to put a bullet through you.”
“I said alive.”
The guards spread through the mansion.
Evelyn remained crouched.
Adrian noticed.
“Are you hit?”
She looked at herself as though she had forgotten she possessed a body.
“No.”
“Stand.”
Her legs trembled.
“I can’t.”
Adrian came toward her.
For all the stories about him, he did not grab her.
He held out a hand.
Evelyn stared at it.
Then placed her fingers in his.
He pulled her carefully to her feet.
“Stay beside Roman.”
“Where are you going?”
“To find out why a priest wants me dead.”
“That sounds like a terrible place to go.”
One of Adrian’s eyebrows moved.
It was so subtle she almost missed it.
Then he looked at Roman.
“Don’t let her out of your sight.”
They moved upstairs.
The east corridor smelled faintly of gunpowder.
A guard lay against the wall gripping his shoulder.
Another man was already wrapping the wound.
Adrian crouched.
“Who shot you?”
“Dante.”
The injured guard grimaced.
“He ran toward the service stairs with Kade.”
“Salazar?”
“Still in the conference room.”
Adrian rose.
Roman looked toward the door.
“Could be a trap.”
“Everything tonight is a trap.”
Adrian opened it.
Victor Salazar sat alone at the long conference table.
His hands were flat on the polished wood.
He was sixty-one, silver-haired, impeccably dressed, and one of the oldest men in Adrian’s organization.
A glass of bourbon sat untouched before him.
“Interesting morning,” Victor said.
Roman aimed his weapon.
“Hands where I can see them.”
Victor looked offended.
“They’re literally on the table.”
Adrian entered.
“Where’s Dante?”
“Ran.”
“Brennan?”
Victor’s expression changed.
That was enough.
Adrian stopped.
“You knew.”
Victor sighed.
“I suspected.”
“Since when?”
“Tonight.”
“You had time to warn me.”
“I was trying to understand what I was seeing.”
Adrian laughed once without humor.
“A device under my car simplifies the picture.”
Victor looked toward Evelyn.
“What is the maid doing here?”
Adrian’s face went cold.
“She’s the reason I’m alive.”
Victor studied her differently after that.
Not kindly.
Carefully.
Evelyn wished she could disappear.
Adrian noticed the look.
“If she gets so much as a threatening phone call, Victor, I’ll assume you sent it.”
Victor leaned back.
“You think I’m involved?”
“I think someone who has eaten at my table for fifteen years tried to kill me.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“That means I’m done giving people the benefit of the doubt.”
Victor’s jaw tightened.
Roman’s radio crackled.
“Movement at south garage.”
They hurried downstairs.
By the time they reached the garage, two cars were gone.
Dante Mercer and Michael Kade had escaped.
Father Brennan had vanished.
The security recordings from the south corridor had been wiped.
Roman punched a metal cabinet.
“Someone inside the control room helped them.”
Adrian looked toward the camera.
“How long?”
“Last twelve minutes are gone.”
Evelyn slowly raised her hand.
Every man turned toward her.
She immediately lowered it.
Adrian almost smiled.
“You don’t need permission.”
“I saw someone near the camera room earlier.”
Roman stepped closer.
“Who?”
“I don’t know his name.”
“Describe him.”
“Tall. Shaved head. Gray suit. He has a tattoo behind his left ear.”
Roman looked at Adrian.
“Cole.”
“Who’s Cole?” Evelyn asked.
“Night supervisor.”
Her stomach sank.
“So your own security supervisor—”
“Apparently.”
Adrian looked at Roman.
“Lock the property.”
Roman shook his head.
“If Cole cleared them out before the alarm, they’re already gone.”
“Then lock Phoenix.”
Roman paused.
Evelyn stared at Adrian.
“What does that mean?”
Neither man answered.
Within twenty minutes, phones started ringing.
Warehouses were told to close their gates.
Drivers were recalled.
Private security teams moved.
Adrian’s restaurants shut their back entrances.
Men across Phoenix received messages telling them to remain where they were until contacted.
Something invisible tightened around the city before sunrise.
Evelyn sat in Adrian’s private library while guards searched the house.
Her hands would not stop shaking.
A cup of coffee sat untouched beside her.
Adrian entered at 4:16 a.m.
He had removed his jacket.
His white shirt sleeves were rolled once at the wrists.
For the first time, he looked tired.
He sat opposite her.
“Tell me everything.”
She looked toward the door.
“It’s guarded.”
“That isn’t what I’m worried about.”
“What are you worried about?”
“You.”
Evelyn looked down.
Adrian waited.
Finally she spoke.
“At two-twenty, I was bringing towels to the west guest room.”
He nodded.
“I passed the service hall behind your office.”
“And?”
“I heard Dante.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“He said, ‘He leaves at three.’”
Adrian’s expression stayed still.
“Then Father Brennan said, ‘The sedan won’t make it past Camelback.’”
Adrian looked toward the window.
Something painful flickered across his face before it disappeared.
Evelyn continued.
“Dante asked whether ‘the others’ were ready.”
“What did Brennan say?”
“He said, ‘By sunrise, Phoenix chooses a new side.’”
That got Adrian’s attention.
“Exact words?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
Evelyn hesitated.
Adrian noticed immediately.
“What?”
“They mentioned someone named Elena.”
Adrian went still.
Not tense.
Still.
“What did they say?”
“That she should have been handled years ago.”
For the first time all night, Adrian looked genuinely shaken.
“Who is Elena?” Evelyn asked.
He stood.
“This conversation is over.”
“What?”
Adrian headed for the door.
“You asked me to tell you everything.”
“And you did.”
“Then tell me who she is.”
He turned.
There was warning in his eyes.
But Evelyn had already broken every sensible rule tonight.
“You said I’m in danger because I heard them. If her name matters, I need to know why.”
Adrian stared at her.
Roman entered before he could answer.
“We found Dante’s phone.”
“Where?”
“Guest room.”
“Anything on it?”
“Mostly wiped.”
“Mostly?”
Roman placed the phone on the desk.
“One message survived.”
Adrian looked down.
A single text had been sent at 2:06 a.m.
PHASE ONE TONIGHT. BLACKWELL FIRST. GIRL SECOND.
Evelyn frowned.
“What girl?”
Adrian said nothing.
Roman looked uncomfortable.
Then another message appeared on the screen.
Incoming.
No sender name.
Just a photograph.
Roman picked up the phone.
His face drained.
“Adrian.”
“What?”
Roman turned the screen toward him.
The photograph showed a teenage girl walking out of a small twenty-four-hour pharmacy.
Timestamp: 4:19 a.m.
Underneath were four words.
WE FOUND HER FIRST.
Adrian’s chair scraped backward.
Evelyn saw his expression.
“Who is she?”
May you like
Adrian reached for his gun.
“My daughter.”
