Chapter 8 - THE ROSARY
The heavy gold cross connected with the back of Dominic’s skull with a sickening, hollow thud.
The massive enforcer instantly went rigid. His eyes rolled back into his head, and his crushing grip on Gabriel’s throat went completely slack. He slumped sideways, collapsing onto the wet stone terrace, out cold.
Gabriel lay on his back, coughing violently, gasping for the freezing rain air.
I dropped the bloody rosary, dropping to my knees beside him. "Gabriel! Are you okay? Talk to me!"
He nodded, rubbing his bruised throat, using my shoulder to pull himself into a sitting position. He looked at the unconscious enforcer, then up at me.
"Remind me," Gabriel rasped, a faint, exhausted smirk touching the corner of his mouth, "never to make you angry."
I let out a breathless, half-sob, half-laugh, pulling him upright. "Come on. We have to move."
Below us, the sound of a battering ram crashing against the mansion's front doors echoed through the storm. The FBI was breaching the house.
"The roof is wired," Gabriel said, leaning heavily on me as we limped toward the spiral staircase. "We can't use the chopper. We have to go down. Through the servant tunnels. They lead to the boathouse on the lake."
I knew those tunnels. I had used them for three years to carry laundry and supplies unseen by the family.
"Follow me," I said, taking charge.
I grabbed Leo's hand, and with Gabriel leaning on my uninjured shoulder, we navigated the dark, labyrinthine corridors of the estate's lower levels. We bypassed the kitchen, slipping behind a false wall in the pantry that opened into the damp, stone-lined tunnels beneath the property.
The sound of the raid faded, muffled by feet of solid earth and stone.
"We're almost there," I whispered, the beam of Gabriel’s flashlight cutting through the gloom. The smell of damp earth and stale water filled my lungs.
We reached a heavy wooden door at the end of the tunnel. I threw the deadbolt and pushed it open.
We stepped out into the boathouse. The dark waters of Lake Michigan lapped gently against the wooden pylons. A sleek, black speedboat was moored in the slip, keys already in the ignition—another one of Gabriel’s contingency plans.
"Get in," Gabriel ordered, ushering Leo onto the leather seats of the boat.
He turned to untie the mooring lines.
"Well, well. Look what the rats dragged in."
Gabriel and I froze.
Stepping out from the shadows of the boathouse, holding a suppressed pistol, was Adrian.
The chief of staff looked terrible. His suit was ruined, his face was bruised from where he had tackled the mercenary in the bunker, and his hands were shaking violently.
"Adrian," Gabriel said slowly, stepping in front of me and Leo. "You saved my life in the bunker. Don't do this now."
"I saved my own life," Adrian spat, his eyes wide and panicked. "Vincenzo was going to kill us all. But the FBI is in the house, Gabriel! They have the ledgers. They have everything. If they catch you, they catch me."
"So run," Gabriel said calmly. "Take one of the cars. Disappear."
"I can't!" Adrian yelled, aiming the gun at Gabriel’s chest. "Vincenzo didn't just give the FBI the ledgers! He gave them my signature! I'm the one who authorized the offshore accounts! I'm the one facing thirty years in federal prison!"
Answer One, Open Two.
Adrian wasn't just a terrified pawn. He was complicit in the crimes.
"What do you want, Adrian?" Gabriel asked, his voice steady, though I could feel the tension radiating off him.
"I need a hostage," Adrian said, his eyes darting frantically. "I need leverage to get a deal from the Feds."
He didn't point the gun at Gabriel.
He pointed it directly at Leo, who was cowering in the back of the boat.
"I'm taking the boy," Adrian declared, his voice trembling with manic desperation. "The FBI will grant me full immunity if I hand over the heir to the Bellini syndicate safely."
"No!" I screamed, stepping out from behind Gabriel.
"Get back, Anna!" Adrian shouted, waving the gun. "This isn't your fight!"
"He's a child!" I yelled back, my maternal instincts completely overriding my fear. "He is ten years old! You are not using him to save your own pathetic skin!"
Gabriel raised his hands, taking a slow step toward Adrian. "Adrian. Look at me. If you touch my son, the FBI won't have time to arrest you. I will tear you apart with my bare hands."
"Stop right there!" Adrian panicked, his finger tightening on the trigger.
Reversal.
He was too far away for Gabriel to reach. He was going to shoot.
I didn't think. I reacted.
I reached into my deep apron pocket, my fingers closing around the cold metal object I had carried since the dining room.
I pulled my arm back and hurled it directly at Adrian's face as hard as I could.
It wasn't a weapon. It was Gabriel’s heavy silver office key.
The heavy metal key flew through the air, catching the dim light, and struck Adrian directly in the eye.
Adrian cried out in surprise and pain, instinctively bringing his hands up to his face, his gun pointing toward the ceiling.
A single, suppressed shot went off, burying into the wooden rafters.
Gabriel surged forward like a wounded panther. He crashed into Adrian, tackling him off the wooden dock and directly into the freezing, dark waters of the lake.
A massive splash echoed through the boathouse.
"Gabriel!" I screamed, rushing to the edge of the dock.
The water churned violently in the darkness. I couldn't see anything.
Seconds felt like hours.
Suddenly, Gabriel broke the surface, gasping for air, hauling himself up onto the wooden dock. He was alone.
He lay on the wood, coughing up lake water, his bleeding side leaving a dark stain on the planks.
"Where is he?" I panicked, looking into the dark water.
Gabriel rolled onto his back, closing his eyes. "He dropped the gun. He's swimming for the shore. Let him go. The FBI will catch him before he makes it a mile."
I dropped to my knees beside Gabriel, wrapping my arms around him, burying my face in his wet, ruined shirt. I didn't care about the blood or the cold water. I just cared that he was alive.
Gabriel wrapped his strong arms around me, pulling me tight against his chest. He buried his face in my hair, breathing heavily.
"Are we safe, Dad?" Leo asked softly from the boat.
Gabriel opened his eyes. He looked at his son, then he looked at me.
"Yes, Leo," Gabriel whispered, a profound sense of peace settling over his exhausted features. "We're safe."
But as Gabriel sat up, reaching into his soaked pocket for the boat keys, his expression changed.
He pulled out a waterproof, sealed plastic envelope.
"What is that?" I asked.
Gabriel stared at the envelope. "This was in Adrian's jacket pocket. I grabbed it when we fell in the water."
Gabriel ripped the plastic open and pulled out a stack of pristine, dry documents.
May you like
He read the first page.
"Anna," Gabriel said, his voice thick with shock. "These aren't offshore accounts. These are the original, authentic ledgers of the Bellini family."
