Chapter 8 - THE BROTHER'S BETRAYAL
“Marco, put the gun down,” Luca ordered, his voice echoing with the authority of the boss, but the fear in his eyes betrayed him. He stepped slightly in front of me, shielding my body with his own.
Marco laughed, a jagged, breathless sound. He kept the submachine gun leveled directly at Luca’s chest.
“You always were too soft, Luca,” Marco spat. “You care more about a maid and a traumatized kid than the empire our father built. Carlo was right. You’re unfit to lead.”
Vanessa groaned from the floor, clutching her bruised shoulder.
“Shoot him, Marco!” Vanessa shrieked. “Shoot him and take the ledger! We can still salvage this!”
Marco glanced down at Vanessa, his expression twisting with sudden, absolute disgust.
“Shut up, Vanessa,” Marco snarled.
He didn't aim at Luca.
In a blur of motion, Marco lowered the barrel of the submachine gun and fired a single, suppressed round.
The bullet struck the floor inches from Vanessa’s face, shattering the linoleum.
Vanessa screamed, scrambling backward until her back hit the wall.
“I’m not doing this for your father anymore,” Marco said coldly, stepping fully into the hospital room. “Carlo is weak. He let Luca capture him. The Bellini family is finished.”
He looked back at Luca.
“This is a hostile takeover, brother. But it’s mine now.”
I clutched the ledger to my chest, my heart hammering violently.
“You can’t run the syndicate, Marco,” Luca said calmly, trying to de-escalate. “The Commission won’t accept a usurper who killed his own blood.”
“They will if you die in a tragic ambush orchestrated by the Bellinis,” Marco smiled. “I avenge you. I take the throne. And the maid takes the fall.”
Marco raised the gun, aiming directly at Luca’s head.
“Goodbye, Luca.”
I didn't have a weapon. I didn't have a plan.
But I had the ledger.
With all my strength, I hurled the heavy leather book directly at Marco’s face.
It struck him hard in the nose. Marco cursed, stumbling backward, his finger slipping on the trigger. A burst of silenced gunfire chewed through the ceiling tiles, showering us in white dust.
Luca moved like lightning.
He lunged forward, tackling his brother to the floor. The submachine gun skittered across the room.
The two brothers fought brutally, trading heavy, bone-crushing blows. Luca was bigger, but Marco was fighting for his life. Marco drove his knee into Luca’s stomach, scrambling to reach his dropped weapon.
I dove for the gun, kicking it under the hospital bed just as Marco reached for it.
Marco snarled, grabbing my ankle and pulling me to the floor.
“Claire!” Luca roared.
Before Marco could strike me, Luca grabbed him by the collar, hauling him up and slamming him violently against the concrete wall.
Marco slumped downward, completely stunned.
Luca drew his pistol and aimed it point-blank at his brother’s chest.
“Give me one reason not to end this right now,” Luca breathed, his chest heaving with rage.
Marco looked up, a bloody, desperate smile on his face.
“Because if you kill me,” Marco coughed, “my men will execute Isabella.”
Luca froze.
The color drained entirely from his face.
“What did you say?” Luca whispered.
“I didn't come here alone,” Marco sneered. “My men breached the estate ten minutes ago. They found the secret room. They have your daughter, Luca.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, faded blue ribbon.
May you like
Isabella’s ribbon.
“Drop the gun,” Marco ordered, his confidence returning. “Or she dies.”
