Chapter 4 - THE SHATTERED GLASS
The blast threw me to the floor.
Smoke poured into the master bedroom, choking the air with the smell of cordite and burning wood. The alarm wailed, a high-pitched siren that drowned out everything else.
I scrambled to my hands and knees.
“Leo!” I screamed.
“I’m here!” a small, terrified voice cried out from the corner.
I crawled through the broken glass, ignoring the sharp cuts stinging my palms. Leo was huddled beneath a heavy oak side table, clutching his bear to his chest. I pulled him out and wrapped my body completely around his, shielding him from the debris raining from the ceiling.
Dante was already moving.
He didn't check on Bianca, who was coughing on the floor. He drew a heavy, matte-black handgun from the holster at the small of his back.
“Elena, the panic room! Now!” Dante roared over the sirens.
I grabbed Leo’s hand. We ran toward the hidden panel behind the bookshelf.
Dante punched the code into the keypad. The heavy steel door slid open.
I pushed Leo inside.
I turned back to grab Dante, but he wasn't looking at me.
He was looking at the bedroom door.
Three men in tactical gear burst into the room. They weren't street thugs. They wore masks, carrying suppressed assault rifles.
Dante fired twice. The lead man dropped, clutching his throat.
The other two returned fire. Bullets shredded the walls, tearing my packed suitcase to pieces.
Dante ducked behind the marble island in the center of the closet.
“Get in the room, Elena!” he shouted.
“Not without you!”
Bianca screamed. One of the gunmen grabbed her by the hair, hauling her to her feet.
“We got the bitch,” the gunman yelled. “Where’s the kid?”
Bianca didn't hesitate. She pointed a shaking, manicured finger directly at me.
“In the wall! She has him in the wall!”
The ultimate betrayal. She was handing her own son over to save her life.
The gunman raised his rifle toward me.
I didn't freeze. I didn't cower.
I reached blindly onto the shelf next to the panic room door. My hand closed around a heavy, solid bronze sculpture Dante had bought in Florence.
I threw it with all my strength.
The bronze struck the gunman squarely in the face. His shot went wild, shattering the ceiling lights.
Dante used the distraction. He stood up and fired three precise shots.
Both remaining gunmen fell dead to the floor.
Silence slammed back into the room, broken only by the wailing alarm and Bianca’s sobbing.
Dante walked slowly over to Bianca. He grabbed her by the ruined collar of her white dress and dragged her toward the panic room.
He threw her inside. She scrambled into the corner, weeping.
Then Dante looked at me. His chest was heaving. He looked at the cuts on my hands, and the fierce, protective grip I had on Leo.
“You stayed,” Dante whispered.
“I'm your wife,” I said, my voice shaking but resolute. “I don't run.”
He cupped my face, leaving a smudge of soot on my cheek. He kissed me hard, desperate and full of absolute reverence.
“Lock the door,” Dante commanded, pulling away. “Do not open it for anyone but me.”
“Where are you going?”
“They brought a war to my home,” Dante said softly. “I'm going to end it.”
He turned and walked out into the smoke.
I hit the button. The heavy steel door slid shut, locking us in a soundproof, concrete bunker.
The panic room was brightly lit, stocked with water and medical supplies.
Leo was crying silently. I knelt down and pulled him onto my lap, rocking him gently.
“You're okay, sweetie. Your dad is going to protect us.”
From the corner of the room, Bianca laughed. It was a cold, bitter sound.
“You are so naive, Elena,” she spat. “You think Dante is a hero? You think he loves you?”
I looked at her. Her makeup was smeared, her true ugly nature entirely visible.
“He loves his son,” I said coldly. “Which is more than you can say.”
Bianca sneered. “I did what I had to do. The Russos promised me fifty million dollars. Dante never gave me anything but a monthly allowance and a cage in Switzerland.”
She stood up, pacing the small room.
“And don't think you’ve won, Elena. The Russos aren't just here to kill Leo. They’re here for the ledger.”
I frowned. “What ledger?”
“The black book,” Bianca smiled maliciously. “The one that proves Dante’s father ordered the hit on Lorenzo Russo’s brother twenty years ago. The proof that justifies this entire war.”
She pointed a finger at me.
“And I know exactly where Dante hid it. Because I watched him put it away before he married you.”
She reached into her ruined dress and pulled out a small, silver key.
“It’s in the safety deposit box at the foundation. Once the Russos kill Dante, I will hand this key to Lorenzo. I will be rich, and you will be a widow.”
She lunged toward the emergency communication panel on the wall, preparing to radio the men outside.
I didn't think. I moved.
I grabbed Bianca by the hair, yanking her backward. She screamed, dropping the silver key.
I shoved her hard against the concrete wall and pressed my forearm against her throat, pinning her.
“You are not calling anyone,” I hissed.
Bianca gasped for air, her eyes wide with shock. She hadn't expected the polished society wife to fight back.
But as I held her there, a loud, mechanical clanking sound echoed from the heavy steel door.
Someone was typing in the override code from the outside.
I let go of Bianca and grabbed Leo, backing into the farthest corner of the room.
The green light flashed.
The steel door slowly slid open.
Standing in the doorway, bleeding from a deep cut above his eye, was Dante’s head of security, Marco.
“Mrs. Moretti,” Marco gasped, dropping his weapon.
“Marco! Where is Dante?” I cried.
Marco looked at me, his eyes filled with a grief that stopped my heart completely.
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“The boss is down,” Marco whispered. “They took him.”
TITLE: THE BLOOD ON THE MARBLE
