Chapter 11 - THE SHADOW RETURNS
The conservatory went deadly silent.
"Ambushed by who?" Luca demanded, his voice turning to ice. "His men are dead or in custody!"
"We don't know," Daniel said. "The federal marshals were hit by a professional crew. Two SUVs, military-grade weapons. They took Giuseppe and vanished."
I gripped my mother's arm. The monster was loose. And now he knew that I had betrayed him, and that Luca had taken his empire.
"Lock down the estate," Luca ordered, his eyes blazing. "Nobody comes in or out. Daniel, call every favor I have left in this city. Find him."
The next forty-eight hours were a waking nightmare.
The estate became a fortress. Armed guards patrolled the grounds with dogs. The heavy iron gates were chained shut. Every shadow felt like a threat.
I couldn't sleep. I paced the floor of my new bedroom, staring out at the dark treeline.
Giuseppe was out there. And he was coming for us.
On the third night, the storm hit. Thunder shook the mansion, and lightning illuminated the long, empty hallways.
I went down to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
The house was eerily quiet. The guards usually stationed by the back doors were nowhere to be seen.
"Daniel?" I called out softly.
No answer.
I walked into the main hallway. The front doors, usually deadbolted in three places, were slightly ajar. Rain blew into the grand foyer, soaking the antique rugs.
My heart leaped into my throat.
I turned to run upstairs to wake Luca, but a cold, wet hand clamped over my mouth from behind.
"Don't scream, daughter," a raspy voice whispered in my ear.
I struggled wildly, but Giuseppe's right arm was incredibly strong. He dragged me backward into the dark study, slamming the door shut and locking it.
He threw me to the floor.
Lightning flashed outside, illuminating his face. He was soaked in rain, wearing a stolen guard's uniform. His eyes were wild, manic.
"You ruined everything," Giuseppe hissed, pointing a heavy revolver at my chest. "My empire. My legacy. Because of a maid."
"I'm your daughter," I choked out, crawling backward.
"You're a mistake," he spat. "And I'm here to fix it."
He cocked the hammer of the gun.
But before he could pull the trigger, a shadow moved from the corner of the dark study.
"You're right about one thing, Giuseppe," a familiar voice said.
Giuseppe froze. He swung the gun toward the corner.
Stepping out of the darkness was a man I thought was recovering in a hospital miles away.
Anthony Russo.
"You're fixing your mistakes tonight," Anthony said calmly.
Giuseppe laughed, a wet, rattling sound. "You're dying, Anthony. You can't stop me."
"I don't have to," Anthony said.
May you like
Anthony raised his hand and pressed a small remote control.
Suddenly, the study doors burst open, and a blinding spotlight from a police helicopter flooded through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
