Chapter 6 - THE TRAITOR IN THE TUXEDO
The gun in my hand suddenly felt a thousand pounds heavy.
Marco, the man who had dragged me into the wine cellar hours ago, the man who had sworn loyalty to the Bellini family for a decade, stood perfectly still, his weapon trained on my dying mother.
Sloane didn't even flinch. She just smiled, tapping the metal case containing the antidote against her palm.
"You really thought Nico was the only one playing chess tonight?" Sloane mocked, turning to face me. "Marco has been on my father’s payroll for five years. He was the one who poisoned Teresa’s tea. He was the one who told me you found the locker key."
The betrayal was staggering. Nico had trusted Marco with his life.
"Drop the gun, Nora," Marco ordered, his voice devoid of any emotion. "If you pull that trigger, your mother dies before the bullet reaches Sloane."
I looked at my mother. She was pale, her lips turning a terrifying shade of blue. The neurotoxin was shutting down her organs. We had less than ten minutes.
Slowly, agonizingly, I lowered the revolver and placed it on the concrete floor. I kicked it away.
"Good girl," Sloane smirked. "Now, where are the deeds?"
"Nico has them," I said, my voice trembling with rage. "He’s outside."
"I know he’s outside," Sloane laughed. "My snipers have him pinned down behind a shipping container. He can't move. He can't save you. The great Nico Bellini is going to die in the dirt."
"Give her the antidote," I pleaded, stepping forward. "You won. Take the empire. Just let her live."
"The empire isn't enough," Sloane said coldly. "My father wants the Bellini bloodline erased. Teresa will die of 'natural causes' in her sleep tonight. Nico will die in a shootout. And you and Evelyn will simply disappear."
She walked toward me, the high heels of her designer shoes clicking against the concrete.
"But before I kill you," Sloane smiled, "I want the receipt. The one Teresa signed."
I kept my hands buried deep in the pockets of my father’s canvas coat.
"I don't have it," I lied.
"Search her," Sloane ordered Marco.
Marco lowered his gun slightly and took a step toward me.
That was his mistake.
"Answer One, Open Two," I whispered.
Sloane frowned. "What is wrong with you?"
"My father didn't just leave a train ticket in this coat," I said, staring directly into Marco’s eyes.
I didn't pull my hands out of the pockets.
I pulled the trigger of the small, secondary derringer pistol Nico had slipped into the coat pocket right before I left the bunker. A gun I hadn't shown them. A gun I fired directly through the heavy canvas fabric.
BANG.
The gunshot was muffled by the coat, but the bullet struck Marco squarely in the thigh.
He screamed, dropping his weapon and collapsing to the concrete.
Sloane shrieked in terror, dropping the metal case.
I lunged forward. I didn't grab the gun. I dove for the metal case, scooping it off the floor and sprinting toward my mother.
Sloane scrambled for Marco’s dropped pistol.
"You stupid bitch!" Sloane screamed, raising the gun.
But before she could pull the trigger, the massive skylight above us shattered into a million pieces.
A heavy, black tactical rope dropped from the darkness, and a figure crashed through the glass, landing with bone-crushing force directly onto Sloane.
It was Nico.
He hadn't been pinned down outside. He had used his guards to create a decoy while he scaled the side of the warehouse.
He ripped the gun from Sloane’s hand and pinned her to the floor, his knee pressing heavily into her chest.
"I told you I was going to tear your heart out," Nico growled, his eyes burning with absolute murder.
I didn't watch the rest. I popped open the metal case, pulled out the auto-injector, and slammed it into my mother’s thigh.
I held her, rocking her back and forth, praying the antidote hadn't come too late.
"Mom. Mom, please," I sobbed.
For thirty terrifying seconds, nothing happened.
Then, Evelyn took a massive, shuddering gasp of air. Her eyes flew open, terrified and wide, before focusing on my face.
"Maggie?" she wheezed, using my childhood nickname.
"I'm here, Mom. I'm here," I cried, burying my face in her shoulder.
Nico hauled Sloane to her feet, zip-tying her hands behind her back. He looked at Marco, bleeding on the floor, and kicked the traitor’s gun away.
"Call the police," Nico ordered his men over the radio. "Tell them we have a confession for the murder of Dante Bellini."
The warehouse doors blew open as Nico’s loyal guards flooded the building, securing the perimeter.
Nico walked over to me. He dropped to his knees, his hands shaking as he touched my face.
"You did it," he whispered, pulling me into a desperate embrace. "You saved her."
I clung to him, the adrenaline finally crashing, leaving me weak and exhausted.
We had won. Sloane was captured. The truth was out.
But as the paramedics arrived to stabilize my mother, Evelyn grabbed Nico’s sleeve with surprising strength.
"Nico," my mother rasped, her eyes wide with a sudden, horrifying realization. "The receipt. The bank receipt Teresa signed."
Nico pulled back. "We have it. It’s safe."
"You don't understand," Evelyn wept, clutching her chest. "Teresa didn't give Arthur that money to run away."
Nico frowned. "What do you mean?"
Evelyn looked at the receipt sticking out of the torn pocket of my father’s coat.
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"Teresa paid him to sabotage the car, Nico. Your grandmother ordered the hit on your parents."
TITLE: THE MATRIARCH'S CHIPPED BLUE CUP
