Chapter 7 - The Broken Vase
Marco dropped the shattered remains of the marble vase onto the floor. He was bleeding from a cut above his eye, his suit torn, but he was alive.
“Grace,” Marco hissed, running over to me and pulling me behind the heavy oak banister. “What the hell are you doing out here? Where is the Boss?”
“He’s in the panic room with Isabella,” I whispered, clutching the pink rabbit to my chest. My heart was beating so fast it physically hurt. “Adriano thought you were working with Elena.”
“The burner phone,” Marco groaned, wiping blood from his forehead. “Elena planted it to divide us. She knew the Boss wouldn’t trust me if he thought I was compromised. I managed to break out of the wine cellar when the Rossis blew the south patio doors.”
He looked at the pink stuffed rabbit in my arms. “Don’t tell me you risked your life for a toy.”
“The microchip is inside it,” I said quickly.
Marco’s eyes widened. He reached out and grabbed the rabbit, flipping it over. He felt the small, hard square hidden deep inside the stuffing.
“You found it,” Marco breathed.
“We need to get it back to Adriano,” I said, pointing toward the coat closet. “I came through the vents. We can go back that way.”
Marco didn’t move. He stood slowly, his grip tightening on the stuffed rabbit. He looked down the hallway toward the east wing, where Elena’s voice could be heard shouting orders to her men.
Then, he looked back at me. His expression was completely blank.
He unholstered his backup weapon and pointed it directly at my stomach.
“I’m sorry, Grace,” Marco said, his voice terrifyingly calm.
I backed up against the stairs, my blood turning to ice. “Marco? What are you doing?”
“Adriano was right,” Marco said softly. “He just had the timing wrong. Elena didn’t plant that phone tonight. She gave it to me four years ago. I’m the one who disabled the cameras so she could fake her death. I’m the one who let the Rossis into the property tonight.”
“You betrayed him,” I whispered, horrified. “He trusted you with his daughter’s life.”
“He pays me to protect his daughter,” Marco corrected. “Elena offered me five million dollars and a seat at the Rossi table. I’m a bodyguard, Grace. I don’t want to die taking bullets for a man who doesn’t even know my mother’s maiden name.”
He raised the gun, aiming it at my head. “Tell the Boss I said goodbye.”
My hand instinctively reached into my pocket, my fingers brushing against the cold metal of the diamond bracelet Bianca had planted on me earlier that night.
As Marco’s finger tightened on the trigger, I pulled the heavy diamond bracelet out and whipped it directly at his face.
The heavy jewels struck him right in the eye. Marco flinched, crying out in pain, dropping his aim for a split second.
It was all the time Adriano needed.
The vent grate above the coat closet exploded outward. Adriano dropped to the floor like a shadow, completely silent. Before Marco could recover, Adriano tackled him to the marble floor, slamming his forearm against Marco’s throat.
The gun clattered away. Adriano didn’t hesitate. He drove a brutal, devastating punch into Marco’s jaw, knocking the traitor out cold.
Adriano stood up, his chest heaving, his dark eyes blazing with a terrifying rage. He picked up the stuffed rabbit from the floor and handed it to me.
“I told you I wouldn’t let you die for us,” Adriano said softly.
Before I could answer, the slow, rhythmic sound of clapping echoed from the top of the grand staircase.
We looked up.
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Elena Falcone stood on the landing, flanked by four heavily armed men. She looked down at us, a wicked smile playing on her lips.
“Very impressive, Adriano,” Elena said. “But you’re entirely out of time.”
