Chapter 7 - The Trunk
The cold metal of the revolver pressed hard against my ribs.
The rain poured down in sheets, hiding Vanessa’s ruined face in the shadows of the club’s awning. Marcus was sitting just fifteen feet away in the armored SUV, but the tinted windows and the heavy rain made it impossible for him to see what was happening.
"Vanessa, please," I whispered, my voice trembling violently. "I just delivered a box. I don't know anything."
"Shut up!" she hissed, her breath smelling strongly of gin and desperation. "You told Luca about the cab! You ruined my wedding! You ruined my life!"
She grabbed a handful of my wet hair, yanking my head back painfully. With her other hand, she popped the trunk of a sleek silver sedan parked right next to Marcus’s SUV.
"Get in," she snarled, shoving me toward the open trunk.
I stumbled, my knees hitting the wet bumper. If I got in that trunk, I was dead. I knew it. She was panicked, volatile, and completely out of options.
I looked wildly toward Marcus's SUV. I needed to make a noise. I needed him to look.
I reached up to grab the edge of the trunk, but instead of holding on, I deliberately slammed my hand down on the heavy, metal latch.
The trunk slammed shut with a deafening CRACK that echoed over the rain.
Vanessa shrieked in surprise, stepping back and lowering the gun for a fraction of a second.
It was enough.
The driver’s side door of the armored SUV flew open. Marcus stepped out, his weapon already drawn and leveled before his feet hit the pavement.
"Drop it, Vanessa!" Marcus roared, the sound cutting through the storm like thunder.
Vanessa spun around, raising her revolver wildly toward the security chief.
"Don't do it!" I screamed, dropping to the wet pavement, covering my head.
A single shot rang out.
But it wasn't Marcus who fired.
I opened my eyes. Vanessa was standing perfectly still, the revolver slipping from her fingers and clattering to the ground. She looked down at her shoulder with a confused, blank expression. A dark red stain was spreading rapidly across the wet silk of her dress.
She collapsed backward against the silver sedan, sliding slowly to the ground.
I turned my head.
Standing on the steps of the Onyx Club, lowering a sleek, silenced pistol, was Claudia Bellini.
She was soaking wet, shivering, and bleeding from a cut on her forehead where Luca had clearly interrogated her earlier.
Claudia looked at her sister bleeding on the ground, her face entirely devoid of emotion. Then, she looked at Marcus.
"She was going to get us all killed," Claudia said coldly, her voice eerily calm. "Dominic is moving the deeds tonight. He’s taking them to the harbor. If Luca wants them, tell him to be at Pier 39 in an hour."
Claudia didn't wait for an answer. She turned and walked back into the dark club, disappearing into the smoke and shadows.
Marcus rushed over to me, grabbing my arm and hauling me to my feet. "Are you hit?"
"No," I gasped, my whole body shaking uncontrollably. "I'm okay. I'm okay."
He kicked Vanessa’s revolver under a parked car and dragged me toward the SUV. He didn't check on Vanessa. In their world, you don't waste time on the people who pull a gun on you.
"Get in," Marcus ordered, throwing me into the passenger seat.
He jumped behind the wheel and slammed the gas, the heavy SUV screeching away from the curb before the club's security could even rush out the brass doors.
Marcus picked up his radio, his voice sharp and authoritative. "Boss. Delivery successful. But we have a complication. Claudia Bellini just shot Vanessa outside the club."
The radio crackled. Luca’s voice came through, sounding remarkably calm. "Is Natalie safe?"
"She's fine," Marcus confirmed. "Claudia gave us a location. Dominic is moving the warehouse deeds to Pier 39 tonight."
"It’s a trap," Michael’s voice echoed over the radio, sounding panicked. "Dominic wouldn't let his daughter just hand over that information. He knows we’re coming."
"I know it's a trap," Luca replied smoothly. "But Dominic doesn't know what I'm bringing."
"Where are we meeting you, Boss?" Marcus asked, weaving through the rainy traffic.
"Take Natalie to the safe house in the West Loop. Keep her under guard. Then bring the tactical team to the harbor. We end the Bellini family tonight."
The radio clicked off.
I leaned my head against the cold glass of the window, trying to slow my racing heart. I was safe. I had done my job. I was going to get a quarter of a million dollars and leave this nightmare behind.
But as Marcus pulled the SUV onto the highway, a strange, persistent ringing sound filled the cabin.
It wasn't my phone. It wasn't the radio.
Marcus frowned, looking around the dashboard. "What is that?"
The ringing was coming from the floorboard near my feet.
I reached down and felt around in the dark. My fingers brushed against a small, cold piece of metal.
I pulled it up.
It was a heavy, burner cell phone. And it was taped to the underside of the passenger seat.
Marcus saw the phone, and his face drained of all color.
"Throw it out the window!" Marcus yelled, slamming on the brakes. "Now!"
I tried to roll down the window, but the electronic lock was jammed. The ringing stopped.
The screen lit up with a single text message.
May you like
Goodbye.
Suddenly, a massive, deafening explosion ripped through the rear of the armored SUV, throwing us violently into the air.
