Chapter 11 - The Gun Behind the Curtain
The realization hit Hannah like an electric shock.
Elena hadn't been killed by rival syndicates. The sketches of the viper were labeled with notes in Italian: *The traitor within.*
It wasn't the Bellinis. It wasn't the Vanecks.
It was Marco.
Hannah turned to look back at the center of the ballroom, but Lucas was completely encircled by four high-ranking dons and their bodyguards, deep in heated conversation. If she tried to cross the floor, Marco would see her coming and act before she could reach them.
There was no time.
Hannah kicked off her diamond-studded high heels, gathered the train of her emerald silk gown in her hands, and sprinted silently up the service staircase behind the heavy velvet curtains.
Her lungs burned as she reached the mezzanine. She crept along the dimly lit VIP hallway, keeping her back pressed against the damask wallpaper.
Outside the suite door, the guard with the viper tattoo was checking the suppressor on his automatic pistol.
Hannah looked around frantically. On a marble pedestal nearby stood a heavy, bronze bust of a Roman emperor.
Without a second thought, Hannah seized the bronze bust, stepped around the corner with lightning speed, and smashed it across the back of the guard's head.
The man collapsed like a sack of stones, unconscious before he hit the carpet.
Hannah grabbed his fallen weapon, her hands slick with cold sweat. She kicked the door of the VIP suite open.
Inside, Matteo was backed against the wall, clutching his small hands into fists. Standing over him was Marco, holding a syringe filled with clear liquid.
"Get away from him!" Hannah screamed, raising the heavy pistol with both hands, aiming directly at Marco’s chest.
Marco spun around, his eyes widening in shock before twisting into a dark, ugly sneer. "The little nanny with a gun. Do you even know how to take the safety off, sweetie?"
"Try me," Hannah snarled, her finger tightening on the trigger.
Marco raised his hands slowly, stepping back from Matteo. "You don't understand what you're doing, Hannah. Lucas is weak. He let grief ruin him. The Moretti family needs strong leadership. The Bellinis and I... we're taking over tonight. The boy was never meant to survive."
"Hannah!" Matteo cried, running toward her.
Hannah pulled Matteo behind her with one arm, keeping the gun trained on Marco’s forehead. "Back away toward the window, Marco. On your knees. Now!"
Suddenly, the heavy double doors connecting the suite to the private balcony clicked open.
A hail of gunfire erupted from below in the main ballroom—screams, glass shattering, and the thunderous roar of Lucas’s custom automatic. The coup had begun.
"Lucas!" Hannah yelled, trying to retreat toward the hallway.
Before she could step backward, a cold, unmistakable circle of steel pressed hard against the base of her skull from behind.
A hand, small and perfectly manicured, reached around to snatch the gun from Hannah's grasp.
May you like
A woman's perfume—expensive, sweet, and suffocatingly familiar—filled the air.
"Drop the weapon, Miss Ward," a soft, melodious voice whispered directly into Hannah’s ear, as the hammer of the revolver clicked back against her head. "You really should have taken the horses."
