Chapter 10 - Judgment in Velvet
Julian took a staggered step backward, his glass slipping from his fingers and shattering against the marble floor. Sienna gasped, clutching Julian’s arm, her face draining of color until she looked like a ghost draped in red velvet.
"What... what is this?" Julian stammered, his hand darting toward his waistband where his sidearm was concealed.
"I wouldn't touch that piece, Julian," Adeline's voice rang out, remarkably clear, steady, and chilling.
From beneath her nurse’s apron, Adeline produced a sleek, compact semi-automatic, aiming it squarely at Julian's forehead with the effortless balance of someone who knew how to shoot to kill.
"You traitorous little bitch!" Sienna shrieked, lunging toward Adeline, her manicured nails raised like claws.
Before Sienna could take two steps, Nico moved.
He didn't need the wheelchair. He didn't need the armrests.
In one smooth, explosive motion that sent the high-backed chair flying back against the dais, Don Nico Alfieri stood up on his own two feet.
A collective gasp swept through the fifty mafia bosses in the room. Men who had commanded armies of hitmen stumbled back against the banquet tables, knocking over silver platters and candelabras in absolute, superstitious dread. It was as if Lazarus had walked out of his tomb carrying a grudge.
Sienna froze mid-stride, staring up at the towering shadow of her fiancé. The color rushed out of her lips, leaving them trembling. "N-Nico... you're... you're walking..."
"Did you think the poison would last forever, Sienna?" Nico asked softly, stepping past the groaning, unconscious form of Dr. Gould. Every step was deliberate, heavy, and resonant. He walked straight up to his fiancée until he loomed over her, his dark eyes burning with cold, unyielding judgment. "Did you think I wouldn't notice the bitter taste in the water? The offshore deposits Julian made into your private accounts in Zurich?"
Sienna backed away, shaking her head frantically. "No! Nico, it wasn't me! It was Julian! He threatened me! He said if I didn't play along, he'd kill my father—"
"Shut your lying mouth, Sienna!" Julian roared, finally pulling his revolver from beneath his jacket.
*BANG.*
The deafening report echoed through the cavernous hall. But it wasn't Julian who fired.
Adeline had pulled the trigger. The bullet struck Julian cleanly in his right shoulder, the concussive force spinning him around and sending his gun skittering across the floor into the shadows. Julian collapsed against the head of the table, clutching his bleeding arm, screaming in shock and agony.
None of the capos moved. None of Julian’s bought guards raised a finger. They looked at Nico, standing tall, unbroken, and beside him, the woman who had brought the Devil back to his feet.
May you like
Nico reached down, his fingers catching Sienna by the collar of her velvet gown. With a flick of his wrist, he plucked the emerald signet ring from her finger, the heirloom that belonged to the Alfieri bloodline, and tossed it to Adeline, who caught it cleanly in midair.
"You wanted an announcement, brother," Nico said, turning toward the bleeding Julian, his voice echoing to the rafters. "Let us make it."
