Chapter 8 - THE FIANCÉE'S REVENGE AND THE HIDDEN FLASHDRIVE
The rain cascaded down Vanessa Bellini’s ruined red satin gown, plastering her perfectly styled hair to her pale face. Her mascara was smeared into dark, ugly streaks resembling war paint. She looked like a ghost that had clawed its way out of a flooded grave.
She tapped the barrel of her silver handgun against the reinforced glass of the passenger window again, her eyes wide and manic.
“Unlock the door, little maid,” Vanessa mouthed, the words barely audible over the drumming rain.
I scrambled backward in the leather seat, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. Luca had told me this car was reinforced, built to take a hit. The glass had to be bulletproof. I wasn't opening that door.
Vanessa’s expression twisted into a snarl when she realized I wasn't going to comply.
She didn't shoot the glass. Instead, she reached into the bodice of her torn dress and pulled out a small, rectangular device with a blinking red light.
A remote detonator.
“I placed C4 charges on the support columns of the back terrace when I snuck out of the banquet hall tonight,” Vanessa shouted, her voice finally piercing through the thick glass. “If you don't open this door right now, I press this button, and the entire east wing of the mansion collapses on top of Luca, Nora, and the sweet old Aunt Sofia.”
My breath caught in my throat.
She wasn't bluffing. Vanessa had known Silvio’s plan all along. She was the failsafe. If Silvio failed to secure the estate from the inside, Vanessa was going to destroy it from the outside.
I looked at the blinking red light, then at the dark silhouette of the mansion looming above us. Luca and Nora were in there. They were directly beneath that terrace, trying to save Aunt Sofia.
I had no choice.
With trembling fingers, I reached forward and hit the unlock button on the center console.
The heavy door clicked.
Vanessa yanked the door open, the cold, rainy wind immediately whipping into the warm cabin of the car. She climbed into the passenger seat, keeping the gun leveled directly at my chest.
“Drive,” she commanded, shivering violently in her wet dress.
“Where?” I stammered, my hands gripping the steering wheel. “The estate is locked down.”
“Drive out the way you came in,” Vanessa spat, gesturing toward the shattered hole in the stone wall where Marco had crashed the car. “We’re going to the private airfield. And you’re going to get me on a plane.”
I put the heavy muscle car into gear and slowly eased it forward, navigating through the ruined gardens and back out onto the dark service road.
“You won't get away with this, Vanessa,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, praying for a miracle. “Silvio is dead. His men are dead. Luca knows everything.”
“Silvio was a greedy, arrogant fool,” Vanessa laughed, a harsh, jagged sound. “He thought he was using me. He thought letting me launder Russian money was his brilliant way of keeping me under his thumb. But I’m smarter than he ever was.”
She reached into her small, soaked clutch purse and pulled out a sleek, silver USB flash drive.
“Do you know what this is, Hannah?” Vanessa asked, waving the drive in front of my face.
“I don't care,” I whispered, keeping my eyes on the dark, winding road.
“It’s the master ledger,” Vanessa grinned triumphantly. “Every offshore account, every corrupted politician, every dirty judge the Moretti family has bought over the last forty years. It’s worth billions. And Silvio kept it backed up on his private server.”
I frowned, confused. “If Silvio had it, how did you get it?”
“Because I stole it from him tonight,” Vanessa sneered. “While he was busy setting up his little coup d'état at the dinner party, I slipped into his private office and downloaded the entire archive. I was going to use it to blackmail Luca into marrying me, but since that plan went up in smoke... I’m going to sell it to the Russians instead. They’ll pay me enough to disappear forever.”
The sheer magnitude of her betrayal was staggering. She hadn't just betrayed Luca; she had betrayed the man who had orchestrated the entire conspiracy. Vanessa was loyal to absolutely no one but herself.
“You’re a monster,” I breathed, horrified.
“I’m a survivor, sweetie,” Vanessa retorted coldly. “Now, speed up. The airfield is twenty miles away.”
I pressed the accelerator harder, the heavy car roaring down the slick highway. My mind raced frantically. If she got on that plane with the ledger, the Moretti family would be destroyed. The FBI, the rival syndicates, everyone would descend on them like vultures. I had to stop her. But she had the gun, and she had the detonator.
“The detonator,” I realized aloud, glancing at the blinking red device resting in her lap. “If you’re leaving the city... why do you still need to blow up the mansion?”
Vanessa smiled, a slow, venomous curve of her lips.
“Because Luca embarrassed me in front of fifty of the most important people in Chicago tonight,” Vanessa said simply, her eyes dead and cold. “He made me look like a fool. You don't do that to a Bellini and walk away. Once we’re on the plane... I’m going to press the button, and watch his legacy burn from the sky.”
She was utterly, irreversibly insane.
I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. I couldn't let her press that button. Luca had saved my brother. He had promoted me. He had treated me with respect when the rest of the world treated me like furniture.
I looked at the road ahead. We were approaching a sharp, winding curve on the highway, surrounded by dense, unlit forest on both sides.
“Vanessa,” I said softly, my voice devoid of the panic I had been projecting.
“What?” she snapped, checking her reflection in the passenger side mirror, trying to fix her ruined hair.
“Do you remember what you told me at the dinner party tonight?” I asked, keeping my foot heavy on the gas pedal.
Vanessa frowned, irritated. “I told you a lot of things, you little rodent. Be specific.”
“You told me that if I couldn't follow a simple instruction, you would reconsider my position in the house,” I recited perfectly.
“So?” Vanessa scoffed.
We entered the sharp curve.
“So,” I said, my voice turning to ice. “I’m reconsidering your position in my car.”
I didn't hit the brakes.
I jerked the steering wheel violently to the right.
The heavy, armored muscle car spun out of control on the rain-slicked asphalt.
Vanessa screamed, a high-pitched sound of absolute terror, as the car careened off the highway. We launched over the muddy embankment, crashing violently through the dense underbrush of the forest.
The heavy reinforced chassis of the car plowed through small trees and thick branches, the sound of breaking wood and screeching metal deafening in the small cabin.
I slammed my foot on the brake pedal, pumping it frantically as we slid sideways down a steep, muddy ravine.
With a final, bone-jarring CRASH, the front bumper slammed into the trunk of a massive, ancient oak tree.
The airbags deployed instantly, exploding with a cloud of white powder, slamming me back into my seat, knocking the wind completely out of my lungs.
For ten seconds, the world was spinning, ringing, and suffocatingly dark.
I coughed, waving the white powder away from my face. My head throbbed violently, and a sharp pain radiated from my collarbone, but I was alive. The heavy seatbelt and the reinforced frame of the car had saved me.
I turned my head to look at the passenger seat.
Vanessa’s airbag had deployed as well. She was slumped against the shattered passenger window, unconscious, a thin line of blood trickling down her forehead from where she had hit the glass.
The silver handgun had flown out of her hand during the crash, lost somewhere in the darkness of the floorboards.
But my eyes immediately locked onto the two items resting on the center console, miraculously untouched by the airbags.
The remote detonator. And the silver flash drive.
I didn't hesitate. I unbuckled my seatbelt, my hands shaking violently with adrenaline. I snatched both items from the console, stuffing the flash drive deep into my pocket, and gripping the detonator tightly in my hand.
I shoved the heavy driver’s side door open, groaning as the dented metal scraped against a tree branch. I stumbled out into the freezing rain and the mud, my legs trembling so badly I almost collapsed.
I stood in the dark forest, holding the detonator that could end Luca’s life, staring at the wrecked car and the unconscious woman inside it.
I raised the detonator high above my head, preparing to smash it against the trunk of the oak tree to destroy the firing mechanism.
But before I could bring my hand down, a bright, blinding spotlight suddenly pierced through the trees, illuminating the ravine in a harsh, white glare.
I froze, shielding my eyes.
The low, rhythmic thumping of helicopter rotors echoed above the trees. A police chopper. The crash on the highway must have triggered an immediate response.
But as the spotlight swept over me, a voice called out from the ridge above, amplified by a megaphone.
It wasn't the police.
“Drop the detonator, Hannah,” the smooth, cultured voice echoed through the rain. “And hand over the flash drive. Or I will order my men to shoot you right where you stand.”
I looked up at the ridge, my heart plummeting into an icy abyss.
May you like
Standing on the edge of the highway, illuminated by the headlights of three black SUVs, was Senator Robert Vance. One of the most powerful politicians in Chicago. The man who had smiled and toasted Luca’s engagement at the dinner party tonight.
And flanking him were a dozen heavily armed men, all aiming high-powered rifles directly at my chest.
