Chapter 8 - The Night Bridget Became the Target
Dominique raised his gun.
Bridget hated that he still carried one.
At that moment, she was grateful.
“Stay behind me.”
“You can barely walk.”
“I can shoot sitting down.”
“That is not reassuring.”
The closet door moved.
Dominique aimed.
“Come out.”
Nothing.
He moved closer.
Bridget grabbed the lamp.
Not elegant.
But heavy.
Dominique reached for the handle.
The door opened.
A teenage boy fell forward.
Bridget gasped.
He could not have been older than sixteen.
His hands were tied.
Tape covered his mouth.
Dominique lowered the gun.
Bridget rushed over.
“Hey. Hey, you’re okay.”
The boy shook violently.
She removed the tape.
“Who did this?”
He began crying.
“I don’t know.”
Dominique called security.
Bridget cut the bindings.
“What’s your name?”
“Eli.”
“Eli what?”
“Morris.”
Bridget froze.
Lena’s brother.
But Lena said he was at Green Haven.
A prison transfer.
No.
A setup.
Gabriel burst into the room.
“What happened?”
Bridget pointed.
“This is Lena’s brother.”
Gabriel stared.
“That’s impossible.”
Eli looked at him.
“They took me during transfer.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Who?”
“Guards.”
Dominique’s expression hardened.
“Federal?”
“State.”
Bridget looked at Gabriel.
“Vesper has prison officers too.”
“It has everyone.”
Eli grabbed Bridget’s sleeve.
“They made me bring something.”
“What?”
He started crying again.
“I’m sorry.”
“Eli.”
“They put it in my jacket.”
Gabriel searched him.
Inside the lining was a tiny electronic device.
Dominique swore.
“Tracker.”
Gabriel threw it into a metal drawer.
Too late.
Outside, the security alarm sounded.
Rafael’s voice came over the intercom.
“Multiple vehicles at the east gate.”
Dominique looked at Bridget.
“Safe room.”
“No.”
“Bridget.”
“I am not hiding while everyone else gets shot.”
“That’s exactly what you’re doing.”
She folded her arms.
He stared at her.
Under different circumstances, it might have been funny.
Gabriel grabbed Eli.
“I’ll take the kid.”
Dominique pointed at Bridget.
“You too.”
She did not move.
He stepped close.
His voice dropped.
“I nearly watched you die last night.”
Bridget’s anger disappeared.
Dominique continued.
“I will not do it again.”
Something in his face silenced her.
Not command.
Fear.
Real fear.
For her.
She nodded.
“Fine.”
The safe room was hidden behind the library.
Bridget entered with Eli.
Gabriel followed.
Dominique remained outside.
She turned.
“You’re coming.”
“No.”
“Dominique.”
“I know the house.”
“So do I.”
“I know where they’ll enter.”
“Then tell your guards.”
“Bridget.”
She grabbed his sleeve.
“For six months, everyone around you decided what was best for you while they poisoned you. Don’t do the same thing to me.”
He stared at her.
Gabriel muttered, “She has you there.”
Dominique gave him a murderous look.
Then entered.
Rafael coordinated defense through the security system.
Three SUVs approached.
The gates remained locked.
One exploded.
Eli screamed.
Bridget pulled him close.
Dominique watched the monitors.
Men entered the property.
Professional.
Organized.
Not random gangsters.
Grant’s agents arrived from the rear access road.
Gunfire erupted outside.
Bridget hated every sound.
Each shot represented someone’s life becoming before and after.
Dominique sat beside her.
His breathing had become uneven.
“Your heart.”
“I’m fine.”
She touched his wrist.
Fast.
Too fast.
“Medication?”
“In my pocket.”
She found the bottle.
He took one tablet.
“Eleanor said one.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“I was present when she explained it.”
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I listen.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed.”
For ten minutes, neither spoke.
Then the alarms stopped.
Rafael came over the intercom.
“Clear.”
Gabriel opened the safe room.
“Wait.”
Another voice came through.
Not Rafael.
Male.
Distorted.
“Dominique Costello.”
Everyone froze.
The voice continued.
“You have protected the woman poorly.”
Dominique stood.
“Who are you?”
A laugh.
Then the monitors changed.
Every screen showed live footage.
Margaret Collins sitting in her kitchen.
Bridget stopped breathing.
Her mother was drinking tea.
Unaware.
The camera angle came from inside the apartment.
“No.”
The voice continued.
“You have something Vesper wants.”
Dominique looked at Bridget.
“The drive.”
She remembered Salvatore’s data.
Gabriel had copied it.
“What do you want?”
Dominique’s voice was cold.
“The drive. The ledger. Thomas Collins’s original letter.”
Bridget stared.
“How do they know about the letter?”
Nobody answered.
The voice continued.
“Deliver them tomorrow at noon.”
“Where?”
“Instructions will come.”
Dominique’s eyes darkened.
“If you touch Margaret Collins—”
“You are in no position to threaten anyone.”
The screen zoomed closer to Bridget’s mother.
A red laser dot appeared on the wall behind her.
Bridget’s knees weakened.
“Stop.”
Dominique looked at her.
She shook her head.
“Give them what they want.”
“We can’t.”
“That’s my mother.”
“I know.”
“Then give it to them.”
“Bridget—”
She turned on him.
“I found you dying in your bed. I risked my mother because I thought saving you mattered. Do not stand here and tell me some files matter more than her life.”
He said nothing.
The laser dot disappeared.
The feed cut.
Silence.
Bridget wiped tears from her face angrily.
“I’m going to her.”
Gabriel blocked the door.
“No.”
She nearly hit him.
Dominique stepped between them.
“Move.”
Gabriel frowned.
“Dom.”
“Move.”
He did.
Bridget looked at Dominique.
“You’re letting me go?”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You’re barely recovered.”
“You said we don’t make choices for each other.”
She hated that he remembered.
“Fine.”
They left through a secure vehicle.
Halfway to Margaret’s building, Bridget’s phone rang.
Her mother.
She answered immediately.
“Mom?”
“Bridget?”
“You’re okay?”
“Of course. Why?”
“Is anyone there?”
“No.”
Bridget exhaled.
Then Margaret said, “Well, except your father’s old friend.”
Bridget went cold.
“What friend?”
“He says his name is Sebastian.”
Dominique looked at her.
She mouthed the name.
Sebastian.
Vane.
“Mom, listen to me. Go into the bathroom and lock the door.”
“Bridget, don’t be silly. He’s very polite.”
A man’s voice came through the phone.
“Hello, Bridget.”
She gripped the device.
“Sebastian.”
Dominique motioned for Rafael to accelerate.
Sebastian laughed softly.
“You found the ring.”
“You threatened my mother.”
“I needed your attention.”
“You have it.”
“Good.”
Then his tone changed.
“Ask Dominique who ordered your father’s death.”
Bridget looked at Dominique.
“What?”
Sebastian continued.
“Ask him.”
The call ended.
Bridget stared.
Dominique’s face had gone pale.
Not from illness.
From guilt.
“Dominique.”
He looked away.
Her stomach dropped.
“You know.”
“Bridget—”
“Who ordered my father’s death?”
He said nothing.
“Who?”
The car slowed outside Margaret’s building.
Dominique finally looked at her.
“My father signed the order.”
May you like
Bridget stopped breathing.
Then the apartment building exploded.
