Chapter 3 - THE FIRE
By the time we reached the archive building, flames were climbing through the third-floor windows.
Fire trucks crowded the street.
Employees stood crying behind police tape.
"My boss is inside."
I tried to run forward.
Dante grabbed my waist.
"Claire."
"Let me go!"
"You can't go in there."
"My boss, Henry—"
A paramedic shouted.
Two firefighters emerged carrying a stretcher.
Henry Walsh lay beneath an oxygen mask.
I broke free and ran.
"Henry!"
His eyes barely opened.
"Claire?"
"I'm here."
His hand grabbed mine.
"Nolan."
My blood froze.
"What?"
"He came... asking..."
Henry started coughing.
The paramedic tried to move me.
"Ma'am."
Henry held tighter.
"Don't trust..."
His eyes rolled.
"Henry!"
They rushed him into the ambulance.
I stood shaking.
Dante came beside me.
"Don't trust who?"
"He didn't finish."
Sirens screamed.
Then a detective approached.
"Claire Bennett?"
"Yes."
"I'm Detective Marcus Ellis."
He glanced at Dante and immediately became cautious.
"We need to talk."
"About?"
"The fire."
He pulled out his phone.
Security footage showed me entering the archive facility two nights earlier.
My stomach dropped.
"I was working late."
"According to access logs, your badge entered again tonight."
"No."
"It did."
"I was at the gala."
"I know."
Ellis looked at Dante.
"Plenty of witnesses."
"Then someone cloned my badge."
"Maybe."
His tone told me he didn't believe that yet.
"Detective," Dante said.
Ellis sighed.
"Mr. Moretti."
"She's staying with me."
"I didn't ask."
"I'm informing you."
Ellis's jaw tightened.
"This isn't your city anymore, Dante."
Dante almost smiled.
"Then why are you nervous?"
I stepped between them.
"Stop."
Both men looked at me.
"Nolan did this."
Ellis nodded slowly.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"That's a problem."
Dante said, "You'll find that problem parked outside her apartment."
Ellis's eyes sharpened.
"What?"
Dante showed him the surveillance photograph.
For the first time, the detective looked genuinely concerned.
"Victor Sayegh."
"You know him too?"
Ellis looked at me.
"Miss Bennett, Nolan Carter isn't a financial consultant."
I felt sick.
"What is he?"
"We've suspected for eighteen months that he launders money through shell investment firms."
"For the Bellinis?"
Ellis didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Dante's phone buzzed.
He opened a video from his men searching my apartment.
My bedroom had been destroyed.
Mattress cut open.
Drawers dumped.
Floorboards ripped up.
"They were looking for something," Dante said.
"For what?"
His security chief entered the frame.
"We found this behind the radiator."
He held up a tiny black drive.
I stared at it.
"That's not mine."
Dante's expression turned dangerous.
"Don't touch it."
Too late.
A red light blinked on the device.
The video suddenly cut out.
Then Dante's phone rang.
His security chief was breathing hard.
"Boss, get her away from—"
An explosion thundered through the speaker.
The call died.
I stared at Dante.
"What happened?"
He didn't answer.
"Dante!"
His face had gone completely cold.
"Someone just blew up your apartment."
I couldn't breathe.
"Your men?"
"We'll find out."
Then Detective Ellis's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
"You're sure?"
He slowly looked at me.
"What now?" I whispered.
Ellis lowered the phone.
"Henry Walsh just died."
My knees weakened.
Then Ellis added:
"And before he died, he wrote one name on the ambulance wall in his own blood."
I stared at him.
"Whose?"
May you like
Ellis looked directly at Dante.
"Moretti."
