Chapter 8 - THE GOLD BRACELET
The silence that followed Bianca’s words was heavier than the gunfire.
“You’re bluffing,” Matteo said, his voice a low, vibrating growl. But he didn't pull the trigger. He couldn't risk it. Not with Leo in that dining room.
“Am I?” Bianca smiled, her fingers lightly tracing the heavy gold bracelet on her wrist. “My father spent twenty years driving your family around like royalty. He watched your mother treat him like garbage. He watched Clara pay him to commit murder, then treat him like a stray dog begging for scraps. I promised him on his deathbed I would burn the Romano legacy to ash. I didn't come here to marry you, Matteo. I came here to bury you.”
Answer One: Bianca’s entire relationship with Matteo was a meticulously planned suicide mission to destroy the Romano family in one devastating blow.
“Let the guests go,” Matteo said, slowly standing up from behind the stone planter. He lowered his gun, holding his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “Let Leo go. They have nothing to do with this. You want revenge? Take it on me. Take it on Clara.”
Clara whimpered on the dirt floor, curling into a ball.
Bianca laughed. It was a cold, hollow sound. “Oh, Matteo. You’re so noble. But you don't understand. I don't just want you dead. I want your bloodline erased. When my thumb leaves this gold contact plate, the dining room goes up in flames. And there is nothing you can do to stop it.”
Reversal: Bianca wasn't going to negotiate. She was fully prepared to die in this greenhouse if it meant taking the entire Romano family with her.
I was still hiding behind the rotting wooden pillar, gripping my silver pistol. Bianca didn't know I was there. Her men were focused entirely on Matteo and Clara.
I was invisible again.
And this time, I was going to use it.
I looked at the four armed men standing between me and Bianca. I couldn't shoot them all. I didn't know how to aim properly. If I fired and missed, they would riddle Matteo with bullets, and Bianca would release the detonator.
I needed to disable the detonator without letting her release her thumb.
I looked down at the dirt. I saw a thick, heavy gardening shear resting near my boot.
I made a decision that defied every survival instinct in my body.
I didn't shoot. I threw the silver pistol as hard as I could into the far corner of the greenhouse.
The heavy metal clattered loudly against the broken glass.
All four guards immediately spun toward the noise, raising their rifles.
Bianca flinched, looking away for a fraction of a second.
That was all I needed.
I lunged from behind the pillar, sprinting the ten feet between us with desperate speed. I didn't go for her throat. I didn't go for her gun.
I tackled Bianca’s left arm.
I grabbed her wrist with both hands, clamping my fingers over hers, forcing her thumb down onto the gold contact plate of the bracelet with all my body weight.
We crashed hard into the dirt. Bianca screamed in shock and fury.
“Matteo, now!” I screamed, my fingers digging into Bianca’s skin, refusing to let the pressure off the detonator.
Matteo didn't hesitate. He was a predator unleashed.
He raised his weapon and fired four rapid, precision shots.
The four guards dropped to the floor before they even realized what was happening.
Bianca thrashed violently beneath me, trying to punch my face, trying to pry my fingers off the bracelet.
“Get off me, you stupid bitch!” she shrieked.
I held on with the desperate strength of someone fighting for a child’s life. “You are not killing that little boy!” I yelled back, pinning her arm to the dirt.
Matteo rushed forward. He knelt beside us, pressing the barrel of his gun directly against Bianca’s forehead.
“Stop moving,” he commanded. The absolute zero in his voice paralyzed her. Bianca froze, panting heavily, staring up at him with pure hatred.
Matteo looked at my hands, clamped tightly over Bianca’s. He saw how my knuckles were white from the strain. He saw that I had just risked my own life to save his family.
He reached down and gently placed his large, steady hand over mine. He pressed down firmly on the gold contact plate.
“I have it, Natalie,” he said softly. “You can let go.”
I slowly released my grip, rolling away and gasping for air. Matteo held the detonator down securely.
He looked at Bianca.
“The wedding is off,” he whispered.
Without looking away from her, Matteo reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out his radio.
“Vince. We have the detonator secured in the greenhouse. Evacuate the dining room immediately. Get the bomb squad on site.”
“Copy that, Boss,” Vince’s voice crackled back. “Guests are moving. Leo is safe.”
Bianca closed her eyes, a single tear of defeat sliding down her face. She had lost.
I sat up, dusting the dirt off my uniform. I looked at Clara, who was still cowering on the floor, weeping over the ruined train ticket. The family was saved from the bomb, but the damage was done. The Romano legacy was shattered by betrayal from within.
Matteo looked at me.
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For the first time since I started working at the estate, he didn't look at me like a maid. He looked at me with profound, undeniable respect.
“Natalie,” Matteo said quietly. “Can you find my father’s pocket watch? I think we’re going to need it.”
