Chapter 8 - THE BRACELET
Vincent stepped fully into the office, locking the door behind him.
He looked immaculate. His suit wasn't wrinkled, his breathing was even, his polite smile firmly in place. He didn't look like a man in the middle of a violent coup. He looked like a man managing a minor inconvenience.
"Put it down, Lily," Vincent said gently, gesturing with the pistol. "The recorder. And the photo. On the desk. Now."
I stood frozen in front of the desk, shielding Sofia behind my legs. My heart pounded so hard I could hear it in my good ear.
"You killed my brother," I whispered, the hatred finally breaking through the fear.
Vincent’s smile didn't waver. "Your brother was a brilliant mechanic. But he lacked vision. He asked too many questions when I paid him. People who ask questions are dangerous."
He took a step closer. The overhead light caught a flash of gold on his wrist.
My eyes darted down.
He was wearing a delicate gold bracelet. Women's jewelry.
He saw me looking and casually adjusted his cuff to reveal it fully. "Beautiful, isn't it? I took it from Elena's wrist before I signaled the tow truck to push her car off the cliff. A small bonus for a job well done."
A trophy. He wore her jewelry as a trophy.
"Matteo will kill you," I said, my voice shaking with rage.
"Matteo is currently bleeding out in a safe room," Vincent corrected softly. "My men breached the door three minutes ago. He put up a valiant fight, of course. But numbers are numbers."
My stomach plummeted. Matteo. Dead? I couldn't believe it. I wouldn't.
"Now, be a good girl and hand over the evidence," Vincent said, raising the gun to my eye level. "If you do, I might let the child sleep through what comes next."
I looked at the photograph in my hand.
"You didn't do it for power," I said, realizing the depth of the twisted loyalty in the picture. "Matteo’s father ordered you to kill Elena."
Vincent paused, a flicker of genuine respect crossing his eyes. "The old man knew she was going to the feds. She couldn't handle the life. She was a liability. The old man told me to handle it, and to never let Matteo know his own father ordered the hit. I carried that secret for five years to protect him. I am the true protector of this family."
"By betraying him?"
"He became weak!" Vincent snapped, losing his composure for a fraction of a second. "He stopped expanding. He became obsessed with legitimate business. The Syndicate bosses are outside right now, waiting in their cars. They want a real leader. When the sun comes up, I hand them Matteo's empire."
I looked past Vincent, toward the large glass windows overlooking the front driveway.
Through the glass, I could see the headlights of four massive black SUVs pulling up to the front gates. The Syndicate bosses.
And flanking the doors to Vincent's office, standing in the hallway behind him through the glass walls, were two of Vincent’s own armed men.
But I had spent my life watching people.
I looked at Vincent's men in the hallway. They weren't looking at me. They were looking at the SUVs outside. They were shifting their weight. Their eyes were darting nervously.
They weren't loyal to Vincent. They were loyal to power. And the real power had just arrived.
I looked back at Vincent.
"You think they're here to crown you," I said, my voice suddenly steady.
Vincent frowned. "Excuse me?"
"The Syndicate," I said, raising the photograph so the men outside the glass could see it. "You think they want a man who takes orders from a dead ghost to kill a boss's wife? You think they trust a man who kills mechanics and hides recorders in his floorboards?"
Vincent’s face hardened. "Shut up."
"You don't have the empire, Vincent," I said, taking a step toward him. "You just have a stolen bracelet and a gun."
Vincent’s eyes went dark. The polite mask vanished entirely, leaving only a cold-blooded killer.
"Goodbye, Lily," he said, pulling the trigger.
But before the gun could fire, the glass wall behind Vincent shattered inward.
A massive figure stepped through the broken glass, bleeding from a shoulder wound, his suit torn to shreds.
Matteo.
He hadn't died in the safe room.
May you like
And he didn't hesitate.
Before Vincent could turn around, Matteo raised his heavy handgun and fired one shot.
