Chapter 2 - THE IMPOSSIBLE ESCAPE
At 12:18 p.m., Gabriel Rossi canceled his own wedding.
He did not make an announcement from the altar.
He did not explain himself to the four hundred guests waiting beneath the cathedral's vaulted ceiling.
He simply turned toward his attorney, Michael Bell, and spoke in a voice that sounded nothing like the man Chicago feared.
“Tell everyone to go home.”
Michael stared.
“Gabriel—”
“Refund the vendors. Have the church staff taken care of. And make sure nobody follows Isabelle's family.”
Then Gabriel looked at the velvet box in his hand.
The engagement ring inside had cost $280,000.
He would have traded every diamond in the world to know where its owner was.
Outside the cathedral, reporters surrounded the entrance.
The wedding had been the most anticipated society event of the season.
A billionaire mafia boss marrying a respected art expert.
It was the kind of story that fascinated Chicago.
Now the bride was missing.
And two members of a rival criminal family had delivered what appeared to be her farewell message.
Cameras flashed when Gabriel emerged.
“Mr. Rossi! Has the wedding been canceled?”
“Where is Isabelle?”
“Did your enemies kidnap her?”
Gabriel didn't answer.
Dante Silva opened the door of a waiting black SUV.
Gabriel climbed inside.
Sal Moreno followed.
The vehicle pulled away from the curb.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Then Sal leaned forward.
“We know Ferraro's involved.”
Gabriel studied the photograph.
“We know he delivered a box.”
“That's enough.”
“No.”
Sal looked surprised.
Gabriel continued.
“Someone wants me to attack the Ferraros. I want to know why.”
Sal's face tightened.
“Because they took your woman.”
“Then they wouldn't need to pay another man to deliver proof.”
Sal shifted in his seat.
“You're assuming Luca told the truth.”
“And you're assuming he lied.”
Gabriel closed the box.
“Right now, assumptions are dangerous.”
At the Peninsula, the bridal floor had been secured.
Hotel management had already notified the police.
Investigators were preserving access records and interviewing staff.
Dante met Gabriel near the suite entrance.
He looked terrible.
His normally composed expression had been replaced by exhaustion and anger.
“Boss.”
Gabriel stopped.
“Show me.”
Dante opened the bridal suite door.
The room smelled of roses and expensive perfume.
Sunlight filtered through the windows.
Isabelle's half-finished coffee stood beside the mirror.
Her lipstick lay on the dressing table.
A white silk robe hung over the back of a chair.
Everything looked as though she might return at any moment.
Gabriel stepped inside.
His chest tightened.
That morning, Isabelle had sent him a photograph of herself holding a coffee cup.
Last chance to run, Rossi.
He had replied:
Not a chance.
Now he stood in a room where she'd vanished.
He could almost hear her laughing.
Detective Mara Keene approached.
She was a forty-two-year-old Chicago investigator with sharp eyes and little patience for theatrics.
“Mr. Rossi?”
Gabriel turned.
“Yes.”
“I'm Detective Keene. We're investigating your fiancée's disappearance.”
“I understand.”
“We need to go over the timeline.”
“Of course.”
She looked mildly surprised by his cooperation.
Then opened her notebook.
“Ms. Hart was last confirmed inside the suite shortly before 9:45 a.m. Her maid of honor left through the main door. No other authorized guest entered afterward.”
Gabriel glanced at Dante.
“Naomi?”
Dante nodded.
“She told us she was retrieving a clutch from the concierge.”
“When did she return?”
“Approximately eleven thirty.”
Gabriel stared.
“Almost two hours later?”
Dante lowered his eyes.
“I was told she'd gone to handle an errand off the floor. Nobody informed us there was a problem.”
Mara continued.
“Ms. Reed says she became delayed after being contacted by an unknown man. We're checking her account.”
Gabriel looked toward the dressing area.
“And Isabelle?”
“No confirmed use of the main door.”
“Windows?”
“Sealed. No signs of tampering.”
“Fire stairs?”
“Monitored.”
Gabriel looked around.
“Then she didn't disappear through the front door.”
Mara nodded.
“That's our working assumption.”
He approached the dressing table.
A framed photograph stood beside the mirror.
It showed Gabriel and Isabelle standing on a balcony overlooking the city.
She was laughing.
He was watching her with an expression his men rarely saw.
The picture had been taken during their first anniversary.
Gabriel picked it up.
For a moment, he remembered the evening.
Isabelle had asked whether he ever imagined leaving the criminal world.
He'd given her the answer he always gave.
“It's not that simple.”
She'd looked at him.
“Then make it simpler.”
He had laughed.
But she hadn't.
Now he wondered whether she'd been trying to warn him about something.
“Mr. Rossi?”
Mara's voice brought him back.
“We found an irregularity near the service cabinet.”
Gabriel turned.
An investigator had moved the decorative folding screen away from the west wall.
Behind it stood a narrow built-in cabinet.
Its shelves held linens and spare towels.
At the back was a maintenance panel.
Dante frowned.
“That wasn't on our floor plan.”
Mara looked at him.
“It was listed as inactive on the hotel documentation provided to the security team.”
Gabriel approached.
“Can it open?”
“Yes. From the adjoining service vestibule, with the appropriate maintenance access.”
Dante stared.
“We checked the main entrances.”
Mara nodded.
“But the bridal suite was created by combining older rooms during renovations. This service connection appears to have remained accessible.”
Gabriel looked at the panel.
“Someone knew.”
“Possibly.”
“Someone who knew exactly how we secured the floor.”
Mara didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
Then Gabriel noticed something near the lower hinge.
A tiny white pearl.
It was caught between the metal frame and the cabinet door.
He crouched.
Mara followed his gaze.
“Don't touch it.”
Gabriel withdrew his hand.
An evidence technician photographed the pearl.
Gabriel felt his throat tighten.
He recognized it.
Isabelle's veil had been decorated with dozens of identical pearls.
But this one carried a small piece of white thread.
As though someone had pulled it loose deliberately.
Gabriel swallowed.
“She left that.”
Mara looked at him.
“You can't know that yet.”
He nodded.
But inside, he was certain.
Isabelle never overlooked details.
She noticed mismatched brushstrokes.
Replaced frames.
Altered signatures.
And when she realized she couldn't escape, she would have tried to leave evidence.
The pearl wasn't an accident.
It was a message.
The security footage revealed another problem.
At 9:48 a.m., the service corridor camera showed an empty hallway.
At 9:49, it showed the same thing.
At 9:50, identical.
A technician examined the frames.
Then frowned.
“There's a repeated sequence.”
Mara stepped closer.
“What kind?”
“The same thirty-seven seconds are playing more than once.”
Dante's face hardened.
“A loop.”
The technician nodded.
“Someone with access to the camera system may have interfered with the recording.”
Gabriel stared at the screen.
He'd spent a fortune protecting Isabelle.
He had armored cars.
Armed guards.
Private communications.
Advanced surveillance.
And someone had used the building's own infrastructure to remove her from a locked room.
Someone with preparation.
Someone with access.
Someone who knew the security plan before the wedding.
At 2:15 p.m., Gabriel met Naomi in a private conference room.
She sat at the end of a long table, pale and trembling.
When he entered, she immediately stood.
“Gabriel, I'm so sorry.”
He stopped several feet away.
“Sit.”
She obeyed.
He looked at her.
“Tell me what happened after you left the suite.”
Naomi twisted her fingers.
“I went downstairs.”
“To the concierge?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Then why were you gone nearly two hours?”
Tears gathered in her eyes.
“I got a call.”
“From whom?”
“I don't know.”
Gabriel studied her.
“What did they say?”
Naomi stared at the table.
Finally, she whispered, “That something would happen to my brother if I didn't follow their instructions.”
Gabriel went still.
“Eli?”
She nodded.
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
“Did you tell the police?”
Naomi began crying.
“I was scared.”
Gabriel looked toward the door.
Then back at her.
“Naomi, Isabelle disappeared after you left.”
“I know.”
“And somebody threatened your brother.”
She covered her face.
“I know.”
Gabriel lowered his voice.
“You need to tell Detective Keene everything.”
Naomi looked up.
Her expression was terrified.
“Gabriel, please don't hurt me.”
He stared at her.
The words struck harder than he expected.
He had spent years making people afraid of him.
Now the woman who knew Isabelle best believed he might kill her for being frightened.
“I'm not going to hurt you,” he said.
She began sobbing.
“Then please find Eli.”
Gabriel nodded.
“I'll help the police find him.”
That evening, Gabriel returned to the penthouse alone.
The investigators had completed the initial examination.
The room was quiet.
Outside, rain moved across Chicago.
He stood beside the mirror where Isabelle had prepared for their wedding.
Then he took out the photograph delivered at the cathedral.
He studied it again.
Her left hand.
Two fingers extended.
Three folded.
He remembered the painting she'd shown him.
An angel pointing toward a harbor.
He'd asked why the painter arranged the hand strangely.
Isabelle had smiled.
“Because when artists can't write a warning, they hide one in plain sight.”
Gabriel stared at the photograph.
Then something caught his attention.
Behind Isabelle's shoulder was a strip of blue-green paint on a plaster wall.
A color he recognized.
He had seen it before in one of the restoration rooms at the Art Institute.
He took out his phone and called Isabelle's gallery assistant.
“Claire?”
A frightened voice answered.
“Mr. Rossi?”
“I need to know which painting Isabelle was examining before the wedding.”
Claire hesitated.
Then whispered, “The one from the harbor collection?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then Claire said, “Mr. Rossi, that painting disappeared from our storage room yesterday.”
Gabriel closed his eyes.
“Who took it?”
May you like
Claire's voice shook.
“Someone with authorization from your company.”
