Chapter 6 - THE BRONZE STATUE IN THE HALLWAY
The heavy bronze statue hit the hardwood floor with a dull, sickening thud.
I stood frozen at the top of the stairs, staring at the woman Marco had declared dead twenty minutes ago.
Vanessa’s red satin gown was soaked in blood, but the blood wasn't hers. It belonged to the two unconscious guards at her feet. She looked wild, her perfect hair matted, her eyes burning with a desperate, feral energy.
“Vanessa,” Luca breathed, his gun raised but his finger hovering off the trigger. The sheer impossibility of the moment had temporarily paralyzed him. “Marco said you were dead. Shot twice in the chest.”
Vanessa laughed—a high, manic sound that echoed eerily down the long hallway.
“Victor is a terrible shot when he’s panicking,” Vanessa sneered, wiping a smear of blood from her cheek. “He grazed my shoulder. I played dead. I knew if I moved, he’d put a bullet in my head to make sure. I lay in that closet listening to him rant about the ledgers, waiting for him to leave.”
She stepped out of the doorway, stepping over the unconscious guards.
“He came up here to kill me because I found the offshore account statements hidden in your father’s room,” Vanessa continued, her voice gaining strength, dripping with venom. “I realized Victor stole the money thirty years ago. I told Victor I wanted a cut of the money, or I’d tell you.”
“You tried to blackmail the man who murdered my mother,” Luca deduced, the shock fading into a cold, terrifying disgust.
“I was trying to secure our future!” Vanessa screamed, pointing an accusing finger at Luca. “You were going to throw away our engagement over a stupid menu! Over an illiterate old man! I needed insurance!”
“My father is dead, Vanessa,” Luca said quietly.
Vanessa paused. For a fraction of a second, a flicker of surprise crossed her face, but it was quickly swallowed by ruthless pragmatism.
“Then Victor did us both a favor,” Vanessa said coldly. “Now you inherit everything without the dead weight.”
I felt physically sick. Frank was dead, and she was calculating her inheritance.
“You are a monster,” I whispered, stepping forward from the top of the stairs.
Vanessa’s manic eyes snapped to me. The aristocratic sneer returned to her face, twisted by hatred.
“You,” Vanessa hissed, taking a step toward me. “This is all your fault. If you hadn't interfered at dinner, none of this would have happened. You ruined my wedding!”
She lunged toward a small console table in the hallway, reaching for a heavy silver letter opener resting on top of a stack of mail.
“Vanessa, stop!” Luca roared, stepping between us, aiming his weapon directly at her chest. “I will put you down.”
Vanessa grabbed the letter opener, clutching it like a dagger. She didn't look at the gun. She looked at me, her eyes completely unhinged.
“You took my life,” Vanessa sobbed hysterically. “You took my billionaire, you took my mansion!”
Before she could take another step, the heavy oak doors of the master suite at the end of the hallway burst open.
A man stepped out into the corridor.
He was older, perhaps in his late sixties, impeccably dressed in a tailored charcoal suit. His silver hair was perfectly combed, and he carried a silver-tipped walking cane. He didn't look panicked or rushed. He walked with the slow, deliberate grace of a king surveying his conquered territory.
“Enough, Vanessa,” the man said softly. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a weight that made the air in the hallway feel incredibly heavy.
Vanessa froze, the letter opener trembling in her hand. She looked at the man, the manic energy draining from her face, replaced by absolute, terrified submission.
“Father,” Vanessa whimpered, lowering her weapon.
I gasped, looking at the man.
This was Richard Bellini. The head of the Bellini syndicate. Vanessa’s father.
Luca didn't lower his gun. He slowly pivoted, aiming the weapon at the older man.
“Richard,” Luca said, his voice like cracking ice. “You have five seconds to explain how you bypassed my security, or you die in this hallway.”
Richard Bellini smiled warmly, leaning on his cane. “I didn't bypass your security, Luca. I was invited in. By Victor.”
Luca’s jaw tightened.
“Victor called me an hour before the dinner started,” Richard explained calmly, walking slowly down the hallway toward us. “He knew Vanessa was getting restless. He knew she had found the offshore accounts. Victor offered me a deal. If I helped him eliminate Frank and Vanessa tonight, and blamed it on a botched robbery by a disgruntled maid—” he gestured politely toward me “—Victor would sign over the shipping ports to my family.”
He stopped ten feet away from Luca.
“I agreed, of course,” Richard said smoothly. “The ports are highly lucrative. And frankly, my daughter is an emotional liability.”
Vanessa let out a choked, devastated sob. “Daddy? You… you agreed to let him kill me?”
“You are weak, Vanessa,” Richard said without looking at her. “You let a maid humiliate you at a dinner party. You are unfit to lead our family’s legacy.”
He looked back at Luca.
“But it seems Victor’s plan failed,” Richard noted, glancing at the unconscious guards on the floor. “Victor is sloppy. I am not.”
Richard reached into his tailored suit jacket and pulled out a small, black radio transmitter.
“I have fifty men surrounding this estate right now, Luca,” Richard said quietly. “They are heavily armed mercenaries, not standard mafia muscle. Your police friends downstairs are currently dealing with a coordinated distraction in the city center. If I press this button, my men breach the walls, and everyone in this house dies.”
Luca’s eyes darted to the windows. The flashing police lights had disappeared. The front lawn was eerily dark. Richard was telling the truth.
“What do you want, Richard?” Luca demanded, keeping his gun raised.
“I want the ledgers,” Richard said simply. “Victor was going to give them to me as a show of good faith. With those ledgers destroyed, nobody can ever prove the corruption that built our families’ empires. We start fresh.”
He looked at me, standing frozen near the stairs.
“And I want the maid,” Richard added, a cruel smile touching his lips. “She knows too much. And someone has to take the fall for tonight’s tragedy.”
Luca didn't hesitate. He stepped backward, physically shielding my body with his own.
“You’re not getting the ledgers,” Luca growled. “And if you think you’re taking Hannah, you’ll have to kill me first.”
Richard sighed deeply, looking genuinely disappointed.
“I was hoping you’d be reasonable, Luca,” Richard said, shaking his head. “You always were too sentimental for this life. Just like your father.”
Richard raised the small black radio transmitter.
“Kill them all,” Richard commanded into the radio.
He didn't press a button. He simply gave the verbal order.
For a terrifying, endless second, nothing happened. The hallway remained dead silent.
Richard frowned, bringing the radio closer to his mouth. “I said, kill them all. Breach the house.”
Silence.
Then, a crackle of static echoed from the radio in Richard’s hand.
A voice answered. But it wasn't a mercenary.
May you like
It was a rough, gravelly voice. A voice I knew. A voice that had always called me 'sweetheart.'
“Sorry, Richard,” the voice crackled through the small speaker. “Your men are a little tied up right now.”
