Chapter 9 - The Predator in the Garden of Gilded Lies
Gunfire echoed through the halls of Atlantic Harbor Holdings,
a rhythmic,
terrifying sound that turned the luxury office into a killing floor.
Victor pulled a handgun from a hidden holster beneath the table,
returning fire with a calmness that spoke of a man who had been in the trenches long before he sat in the boardroom.
"Marco was supposed to be the perimeter!"
Victor growled,
checking his magazine.
"They must have hit the safe house too."
"Emily,"
I whispered,
my heart freezing in my chest.
"They’re at the safe house, Victor!"
"They took the blue pills to her!"
Victor grabbed my arm,
his grip like a vise.
"Marco is there, Elena."
"He’s the best there is."
"But we have to get out of here first."
We crawled through the shattered glass,
the smell of ozone and gunpowder filling my lungs.
The boardroom was a shambles;
Halloway was slumped over the table,
a red bloom spreading across his white shirt.
The 'vipers' were being exterminated by the very monsters they had invited in.
We reached the private elevator,
but the doors were jammed.
"The stairs,"
Victor said,
pointing to the service exit.
We ran,
my lungs burning,
my mind a whirlwind of images of Emily.
As we reached the parking garage,
a black van skidded to a halt,
blocking our path.
A man stepped out,
holding a suppressed submachine gun.
It wasn't a mercenary.
It was Julian Vane.
He looked ragged,
his expensive suit torn,
his eyes wild with a cocktail of drugs and desperation.
"You think you’re so smart, Victor,"
Julian spat,
his finger tightening on the trigger.
"You think you can just discard people like me?"
"I built this empire with you!"
"You poisoned me, Julian,"
Victor said,
stepping in front of me to shield me.
"You tried to kill a child."
"There is no 'building' with a man like you."
"The child is already dead,"
Julian laughed,
a high-pitched,
manic sound.
"My team is at the Bedford house."
"They don't miss."
I felt the world tilt.
"No,"
I screamed,
lunging toward Julian.
"NO!"
A shot rang out,
but it didn't come from Julian’s gun.
A red dot appeared on Julian’s forehead,
and a second later,
his head snapped back as he collapsed to the concrete.
I looked up.
High in the rafters of the garage,
a figure was shifting.
It was Marco.
He was covered in soot and blood,
but he was holding a long-range rifle.
He climbed down the service ladder,
his movements stiff.
"The safe house was compromised,"
Marco said,
walking toward us.
"They sent a heavy team."
"Where is she?"
I gasped,
grabbing his tactical vest.
"Where is my daughter?"
Marco looked at Victor,
then at me.
"She’s safe, Elena."
"But she’s not at the safe house."
"I moved her ten minutes before the attack."
"How did you know?"
Victor asked.
"I didn't,"
Marco said.
"She did."
"She told me the 'maid' in the kitchen—"
"the one Mrs. Gable hired—"
"had a crooked label on her ID badge."
"The kid is a Russo, Victor."
"She sees the flaws."
I fell to my knees,
sobbing with a relief that was so intense it felt like pain.
But Victor didn't celebrate.
He looked at the body of Julian Vane and then at the burning building above us.
"The Syndicate is exposed now,"
he said.
"But Sofia is still out there."
"And she won't stop until the Russo name is erased."
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"We need to go to Italy."
"And we’re taking the maid with us."
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