Chapter 6 - THE BETRAYAL IN THE BLOOD
I stared at the man who had raised me.
“You... you killed her?” I whispered.
Arthur Bennett didn't even flinch.
“She was going to ruin everything, Ellie. Whitmore offered us two million dollars to hand over the micro-film. We could have been rich. But she got self-righteous. She was going to give it to the cops.”
He stepped into the apartment, keeping the gun trained on Adrian.
“I cut the brake lines on her car. It was supposed to look like an accident. I didn't know she had hidden the ledger in the carpenter's toolbox until it was too late.”
My stomach heaved.
For years, I had worked double shifts. I had skipped meals to buy his medication.
All while he had millions sitting in an offshore account, paid for with my mother's blood.
“And now,” Arthur said, glancing at Adrian. “Celeste tells me you found the watch.”
Adrian stood perfectly still.
His body shielded mine.
“You're not getting it, Arthur.”
“I think I am. Celeste is waiting in a private jet. We leave tonight. Hand over the micro-film, Caruso, or I shoot the girl.”
He pointed the gun directly at my chest.
Adrian didn't hesitate.
He reached into his jacket pocket.
“Fine. It's in my coat.”
Arthur smiled greedily.
But Adrian didn't pull out a watch.
He pulled out a heavy, iron money clip.
With blinding speed, Adrian hurled the iron clip directly at my father's face.
It struck Arthur right above the eye.
The gun went off with a quiet thwip, the bullet burying itself in the plaster wall inches from my head.
Adrian crossed the room in two massive strides.
He slammed my father into the wall, pinning his gun hand against the doorframe until the weapon clattered to the floor.
“You pathetic coward,” Adrian growled, his forearm pressing against Arthur's throat.
My father choked, struggling uselessly against the Mafia boss.
I stood frozen, tears streaming down my face.
Adrian looked back at me.
“Ellie. Call the police.”
“No!” my father gasped. “Ellie, please! I'm your father!”
I walked over to the desk.
I picked up the silver rosary.
The one my mother had loved so much.
“My father died twenty-four years ago,” I said, my voice completely cold.
I picked up the phone and dialed 911.
Ten minutes later, flashing red and blue lights filled the street outside.
The police dragged Arthur Bennett out in handcuffs.
I stood on the sidewalk, clutching the rosary, shaking in the cold night air.
Adrian took off his expensive suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders.
It smelled like cedar and expensive cologne.
“You're safe now,” he said gently.
I looked up at him.
“He's going to prison. But Celeste is still out there. She's waiting at the airport.”
Adrian's eyes darkened.
“Not for long.”
His phone buzzed.
He answered it, listened for a few seconds, and hung up.
“My men intercepted Celeste at the tarmac. She's in custody.”
I let out a breath I felt like I'd been holding for a lifetime.
“It's over.”
Adrian looked at me.
“Almost.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the gold pocket watch.
“We still have to finish the dinner.”
He smiled softly.
“My father is waiting for his toast.”
But as we turned to walk back to the SUV, a black sedan slowly rolled down the street.
The window rolled down.
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And a heavy, metallic cylinder was tossed out onto the sidewalk, rolling to a stop directly at Adrian's feet.
A pipe bomb.
