Chapter 4 - THE SHOT IN THE DARK
The world slowed to a terrifying crawl.
The deafening chatter of automatic weapons faded into a dull, ringing hum in my ears. Through the thick, acrid smoke of the breached entryway, I saw Marco’s finger tighten on the trigger of his pistol.
He was going to shoot Luca in the back.
"Luca, look out!" I screamed, my voice tearing through my throat.
Without thinking, I grabbed a heavy bronze vase from the landing pedestal and hurled it down the stairs with every ounce of strength I possessed.
The heavy metal sailed through the smoke and crashed violently against Marco’s shoulder just as he pulled the trigger.
The shot went wild, burying itself into the marble pillar inches from Luca’s head.
Luca whipped around, his combat instincts taking over instantly. He saw Marco stumbling backward, clutching his shoulder, his gun still raised.
The realization of the betrayal hit Luca like a physical blow, but he didn't hesitate.
He fired twice.
Marco cried out as a bullet grazed his thigh, sending him crashing to the floor. He dropped his weapon, scrambling backward like a cornered rat toward the invading Russians.
"Covering fire!" Luca roared, shifting his aim back to the front doors and unleashing a hail of bullets to keep the Russian assault team pinned behind the ruined oak frames.
"Go, Rachel! Get her out of here!" Luca yelled over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off the doorway.
I grabbed Nina’s arm, hauling her up the stairs as bullets chewed into the banister.
"Marco set us up," Nina sobbed hysterically as we ran down the second-floor hallway. "He's working with Vanessa!"
"Keep moving!" I urged, pushing her toward the master suite.
We burst into Luca’s bedroom. The massive room was dark, illuminated only by the flashing security lights outside the window.
I ran to the heavy bookshelf on the far wall. Luca had showed me the release mechanism months ago when I was cleaning the room, telling me to use it if I ever heard gunshots in the house.
I reached behind a copy of Dante’s Inferno and pulled the hidden lever.
The bookshelf swung open silently, revealing a reinforced steel door.
"Get in," I ordered, pushing Nina into the small, windowless panic room.
It was stocked with emergency supplies, monitors displaying the house’s security feeds, and an encrypted phone line.
I pulled the heavy steel door shut, engaging the massive deadbolts. The sound of the gunfire outside was instantly muffled, leaving us in a suffocating, terrifying silence.
Nina collapsed onto the small cot in the corner, burying her face in her hands, weeping for her dead husband and the brother she thought she was about to lose.
I rushed to the bank of monitors, frantically scanning the feeds.
The foyer was a war zone.
Luca was pinned behind the marble pillar, vastly outnumbered. Silvio and the rest of the estate security team were fighting fiercely, but the Russians were heavily armed mercenaries.
And then, I saw Marco.
He was limping badly, but he had managed to slip away from the main firefight. He wasn't retreating with the Russians.
He was moving down the East Wing hallway.
Toward Vanessa’s home office.
"Nina, look," I whispered, pointing at the screen.
Nina wiped her eyes, staring at the monitor. "What is he doing? The money is in the safe in Luca’s study."
"He's not looking for money," I realized, the pieces of the puzzle snapping together. "He's looking for what Ben found."
"The offshore receipt," Nina breathed.
"No, Luca has the receipt," I reminded her. "Ben must have found something else. Something Marco needs to destroy before Luca finds it."
On the monitor, Marco kicked the door to Vanessa’s office open. He frantically began tearing the room apart, ripping drawers from the desk and sweeping files onto the floor.
"If Marco is working with Vanessa, and they set up the Russian hit..." Nina deduced, her voice shaking. "Then Marco is the one who took the five million dollars."
"And Vanessa blamed it on Luca," I finished.
We watched the screen intently. Marco suddenly stopped. He walked over to a large, framed abstract painting on the wall. He pulled it down, revealing a hidden wall safe.
He didn't hesitate. He rapidly punched in a code.
The safe clicked open.
Marco reached inside and pulled out a thick, black leather-bound ledger.
He opened it, quickly flipping through the pages. A look of profound relief washed over his sweaty face. He shoved the ledger into his jacket, closed the safe, and turned to leave.
But as he stepped out of the office, the monitor showed a terrifying new development.
The Russians had breached the second floor.
Three heavily armed mercenaries were walking down the East Wing hallway, heading straight for Marco.
Marco froze. He raised his hands, shouting something we couldn't hear.
The lead Russian mercenary didn't care. He raised his rifle.
"Wait!" Marco yelled, clearly visible on the silent feed. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the black ledger, holding it up like a shield.
The Russian paused. He snatched the ledger from Marco’s hand.
The mercenary flipped through the pages, his eyes widening. He pulled a radio from his vest and spoke rapidly into it.
"What is happening?" Nina panicked.
"Marco is trading the ledger for his life," I whispered.
The Russian mercenary nodded, lowering his radio. He looked at Marco, offering a cold, cruel smile.
Then, he raised his rifle and shot Marco twice in the chest.
Marco collapsed against the wall, sliding to the floor, dead before he even hit the carpet.
The mercenaries stepped over his body, taking the ledger with them, moving deeper into the house.
Nina covered her mouth, stifling a scream. Her cousin was dead.
But the horror wasn't over.
I switched the monitor back to the grand foyer.
The gunfight had stopped.
The marble floors were covered in debris and blood. Silvio and the remaining security guards were on their knees, disarmed, surrounded by Russians.
And standing in the center of the foyer, a gun pressed directly to his temple by the lead Russian commander, was Luca.
"They have him," Nina sobbed, falling to her knees.
The Russian commander pulled a phone from his pocket, dialing a number. He held it up to Luca’s ear.
I flicked a switch on the control panel, turning on the audio feed for the foyer camera.
Static hissed through the speaker, followed by a voice that made my blood run cold.
"Well, well, well, Luca," Vanessa’s voice purred through the phone, dripping with venomous triumph. "It looks like the wedding is officially canceled."
Luca didn't flinch. He stared straight ahead, his eyes burning with a dark, unyielding fire.
"You think you’ve won, Vanessa?" Luca asked, his voice steady.
"I know I have," Vanessa laughed. "The Russians have their ledger back. They know you stole their money. And my father is currently meeting with the Commission to take over your territory."
"And what about Ben?" Luca demanded.
"Ben was collateral damage," Vanessa dismissed coldly. "He snooped where he shouldn't have. Just like you."
"Say goodbye, Moretti," the Russian commander ordered, pulling the hammer back on his pistol.
"Wait," Luca said loudly, his voice echoing in the ruined foyer.
He looked directly into the security camera hidden in the chandelier. He knew we were watching.
"Vanessa," Luca said, his voice dropping into a lethal, terrifying register. "You made one mistake."
"And what is that?" Vanessa sneered.
May you like
Luca offered a small, blood-chilling smile.
"You forgot to ask Marco where he hid the money," Luca said.
