Chapter 7
We found Nolan before dawn.
Not far.
Too arrogant to run properly.
He was staying in a private suite at another Kingsley property under a false booking.
Rafe brought him to me.
No beating.
No threats.
I wanted sequence.
“Who ordered the fire?”
He answered immediately.
“Julian.”
Estelle closed her eyes.
I looked at her.
She stayed.
Her choice.
“Did Julian tell you Agnes would be gone?”
“Yes.”
“Did he say why?”
“To seal the passage before opening night.”
“Why fire?”
“Make it look electrical.”
Cheap.
Fast.
Dirty.
“What changed?”
Nolan hesitated.
“Someone delayed her.”
There.
I leaned forward.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
Agnes had been preparing to leave for the banquet at six.
A delivery arrived at five fifty.
Flour.
She had not ordered it.
She stayed to sort it.
Ten minutes became thirty.
Then the fire started.
Someone wanted her inside.
That was not Julian’s stated plan.
At least according to Nolan.
“Who ordered the flour?”
Rafe already knew.
Miles.
My oldest lieutenant.
Interesting.
Julian wanted bakery empty.
Miles made sure Agnes stayed.
Two conspirators.
Different intentions.
Why?
Because Julian wanted the passage sealed.
Miles wanted the witness gone.
That distinction made sense.
Harold would likely prefer silence too.
“Did Miles know she survived?”
Nolan nodded.
“He called me after Ivy pulled her out.”
“What did he say?”
Nolan swallowed.
“Then tonight moves faster.”
I felt the room narrow.
Opening night.
Room 12.
The black case.
Something still scheduled.
“What was supposed to happen?”
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
Nolan had been told only to close service access, then leave the hotel before midnight.
Why before midnight?
No answer.
I looked at the banquet schedule.
At midnight, I was supposed to make the final opening toast.
Estelle beside me.
Hotel staff gathered.
Capos and family in one room.
Perfect.
For what?
Then Estelle whispered:
“My contract.”
I turned.
“What contract?”
She looked ashamed.
The marriage agreement.
Not legal paperwork exactly.
Family arrangement.
A private Kingsley-Monroe accord to be announced at midnight.
I had reviewed the public terms.
Shared hospitality ventures.
Joint investments.
Nothing unusual.
But Estelle admitted Julian had asked her to sign a second internal page two days ago.
She did.
Without showing me.
I stared.
“What did it say?”
Her voice broke.
“In case of operational incapacity, Monroe management temporarily oversees hotel security and access.”
There.
Not my entire organization.
Just the hotel network.
The exact network Miles built the faction inside.
“What counts as incapacity?”
She looked at me.
“I don’t know.”
Of course.
Then Rafe’s phone rang.
He listened.
Looked at me.
“Boss.”
“What?”
May you like
“Harold Vane just arrived at the hotel.”
Midnight was twenty-three minutes away.
