Chapter 5 - The Hollow Rabbit
The auxiliary power system finally flickered to life, bathing the vast penthouse in a pale, sterile emergency glow. The two intruders lay dead or incapacitated on the floor, but the room was empty of Elena’s presence. A smear of blood trailed across the threshold toward the private service elevator, whose doors stood wide open.
They hadn't just breached the apartment; they had staged an extraction while Dominic was occupied shielding the child.
Maya sat huddled against the oak pillar, trembling violently, her knuckles white around the plush bunny. Tears streamed down her dust-stained cheeks, but she made no sound—a terrifying symptom of a child who had already learned that crying invited danger.
Dominic holstered his weapon and knelt before her, his breath ragged. He examined the plush toy in her arms. Elena's dying words before the darkness had been specific: The Morozov ledger... inside the rabbit.
""Maya,"" he said gently, reaching out a hand. ""May I see your friend for a second?""
She looked at him with wide, intelligent eyes, hesitating before slowly extending the tattered bunny. ""His name is Barnaby. Mommy said never let anyone take him.""
""I won't take him away. I promise,"" Dominic assured her, his hardened demeanor cracking under the weight of her gaze.
He carefully inspected the seam along the rabbit’s spine. The stitching was crude, clearly redone by hand with thick nylon thread. Dominic drew a small folding knife from his pocket, severed the thread with surgical precision, and slid his fingers into the polyester stuffing.
His fingertips brushed against cold, flat plastic.
He pulled out an ultra-slim, encrypted micro-drive encased in a titanium shell. Etched onto the surface was the double-headed eagle insignia of the Morozov syndicate—the most dangerous international crime syndicate on the eastern continent, headed by a phantom known only as Nikolai.
Dominic's private phone vibrated on the glass table. An unknown number lit up the screen.
May you like
He answered, his voice icy and lethal. ""Speak.""
""You always had a habit of keeping things that don't belong to you, Vance,"" a smooth, chilling voice purred on the other end. ""Like my accountant. And now, my property.""
