Chapter 4 - THE TARNISHED BRACELET
Sadi couldn’t breathe.
Her father? An accountant for the mob? The man who used to read her bedtime stories and complain about the cost of groceries had stolen twenty million dollars?
"You're lying," Sadi whispered, pulling her arm away from Roman.
"I don't lie, Sadi," Roman said, stepping closer. "And we don't have time for a family therapy session. The man I just killed wasn't alone. We have less than two minutes before the rest of his crew sweeps this building."
"Sadi!" Diane sobbed, clutching her purse. "Don't go with him! He's a monster just like his father!"
Roman turned his cold gaze to Diane.
"If she stays with you, Diane, she dies. The Morettis don't care about collateral damage."
Roman grabbed Sadi’s hand—the one wearing his silver watch—and pulled her toward the service corridor behind the bar.
Sadi stumbled in her heels, her mind spinning.
She was a maid. She scrubbed floors and cleaned cast-iron skillets. Now she was running through a dark hallway with a mob boss while hitmen hunted her.
They burst through the heavy fire doors into the country club's industrial kitchen. It was abandoned, the catering staff having fled at the sound of gunfire.
"Keep your head down," Roman ordered, moving with terrifying, practiced efficiency.
As they rounded the massive steel prep tables, a shadow stepped out from the walk-in freezer.
Another man in a suit. He raised a shotgun.
Roman didn't hesitate. He shoved Sadi behind a heavy steel rack of hanging pots and fired twice.
The man grunted, his shotgun blasting wildly into the ceiling, showering them in plaster and sparks, before he collapsed.
But as Roman turned to check on Sadi, the man on the floor managed to draw a backup pistol and fire one last, desperate shot.
Roman flinched.
He stumbled forward, pressing a hand to his left side.
"Roman!" Sadi gasped, rushing to him.
Dark, thick blood was already seeping through the crisp fabric of his navy suit jacket.
"It's a graze," Roman gritted his teeth, his face pale in the fluorescent light. "Keep moving."
"You're bleeding everywhere!" Sadi panicked, her hands hovering over his wound.
"I said move!" Roman barked.
He leaned heavily against her, and together they pushed through the back exit doors, stumbling out into the cool, damp night air of the loading dock.
The black SUV was parked twenty yards away.
But standing between them and the vehicle was a third man.
He didn't have a gun raised. He was holding a heavy steel tire iron.
"Rossi," the man sneered. "Looks like you're out of breath."
Roman raised his gun, but his arm shook from the pain and blood loss.
Before the man could charge, Sadi saw something glittering on the asphalt near his feet.
It was a piece of jewelry. A tarnished, heavy silver bracelet with an intricate floral clasp.
Sadi froze.
Answer One: Her father wasn't just an accountant. He had deeply integrated his family's life into his illicit work to hide his tracks.
Open Two: Why did the Moretti hitman drop a bracelet that looked exactly like the one Sadi’s grandmother had given her for her sixteenth birthday?
"Where did you get that?" Sadi demanded, her voice cutting through the tension.
The hitman looked down at the bracelet. "I took it off your mother's dresser last night, sweetheart. When we tossed your childhood home looking for the ledger."
He smiled cruelly. "Your mom didn't even hear us come in."
Reversal: The Morettis weren't hunting Roman tonight. They had used the country club to corner Sadi, knowing Roman would be there to protect his own interests.
Sadi felt a surge of absolute, blinding rage.
She didn't think about her weight. She didn't think about being a maid. She thought about this man violating her mother's home.
Sadi grabbed a heavy, cast-iron skillet sitting on a rack of dirty dishes left on the loading dock.
She swung it with all her strength.
The heavy iron connected solidly with the side of the hitman's head.
The man collapsed in a heap, out cold.
Roman stared at her, his dark eyes wide with genuine shock.
Sadi dropped the skillet, her hands shaking violently. She bent down and picked up the tarnished bracelet.
"Get in the car," Sadi said, her voice trembling but firm.
Roman coughed, a pained smile touching his lips. "Yes, ma'am."
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Sadi helped him into the passenger seat, grabbed the keys from his pocket, and climbed into the driver's side.
She slammed the SUV into gear and tore out of the country club parking lot, leaving her old life behind in a cloud of smoke.
