Read Online From Manhattan With Revenge Boxed Set by Christopher Smith - Free Book Online Page A

ran to it while people openly started
to weep at the sound of it.   Everything appeared to be happening in slow motion.
    The
lights started to flicker and for an instant, he saw her face.   It was the most welcomed sight he’d ever
seen.   He did love her.   She was pointing above the crowd toward
the corridor, where people were moving more freely now.   They could escape through the side exit,
which would lead to the front of the building, but the moment he reached
Carmen, she stopped him.
    “The
Grille Room,” she said.   “We take
those stairs and exit on the side of the building.   Not the front.   The side.   Hurry!”
    He
grabbed her wrist and steamrolled forward with her.   Together, they trampled people in an
effort to get to the stairs, down over them to the foyer below and then to the
exit.  
    Other
people were rushing alongside them.   Outside, the night was alive with the sound of sirens.  
    Carmen
and Alex joined the flood of those leaving this hell they created and as they
did, the lights behind them spit at their backs, almost as if they were aware
of their escape and cursing the injustice of it.

 

 
 
 
 
    EPILOGUE

 
    ONE
MONTH LATER

 
    In the
month following the incident at The Four Seasons, Leana Redman remained in her
Park Avenue penthouse, unwilling to leave until they caught the people
responsible for killing Jean-George Laurent and for potentially trying to kill
her.
    People
called, including her mother and half-brother, Michael, but in spite of the
news coverage that had blanketed the city for so long as investigators tried to
learn who the murderer was, there was not one call from her father.
    She
tried to tell herself that she wasn’t surprised or disappointed, but she was
just lying to herself.   Her mother
told her that he’d never change, which was the truth.   He was expecting her to call him, but
she wouldn’t.   More than ever, she
was beginning to care less and less about him.   She knew it was unhealthy for her to spend
much more time wondering why he was the way he was.   He didn’t care for her.   As difficult as it was, she needed to
accept that.
    One
morning after many late-night discussions with Mario, much of which involved
the security he wanted to have in place for her when she did emerge, she
decided she couldn’t stay like this forever.   At the very least, she owed it to Harold
to pick herself up and move forward with her dreams.   Not following them was exactly what he
didn’t want.   He had entrusted her
with his money for a specific reason and that reason wasn’t just to succeed,
but to take on her father and succeed.
    For
herself and for Harold, she needed to see it through.
    On some
level, the better part of her life always had been at risk, whether because of
the drugs she nearly overdosed on in her youth or because she was saddled with
her father’s enemies now as an adult.   She needed to pick herself up, go to the hotel and get back to work.   Three weeks ago they started to
refurbish it.   She needed to be
there and be part of it.   She needed
to oversee the work that was being done and offer her input.   This was her baby and she had to attend
to it.
    And so
she did.
    After a
shower and changing into a pair of jeans and a sweater, she went downstairs
into the kitchen, where Mario was preparing himself breakfast.   It was cool outside and he had a fire
going in the sitting room just off the kitchen.   He looked over at her when she came in.
    “Good
morning,” he said.
    She put
her arms around him and kissed him.   “Making anything good?”
    “The
kitchen might need to be gutted, but the stove works.   Here.   I made you an omelet.”   He slid it onto a white plate as she sat
at the granite bar and smiled at him.
    “You
made that omelet for yourself.”
    “So
what?   I’ll make another.   Juice?”
    She
nodded.
    “Coffee?”
    “If I
can have the entire pot.”
    “You can
have whatever you want.