Chapter 9 - The Mask Slips
Lily placed the small wooden box on the table in front of Matteo.
"Open it," Adrian commanded softly.
Matteo’s hands shook visibly. Uncle Carlo watched with heavy, suspicious eyes, his hand drifting instinctively toward his coat pocket.
Matteo slowly lifted the polished lid of the box.
Inside rested two items: the gold St. Jude medallion ripped from the mercenary’s neck, and the crystal glass coated with dried venom, its rim glistening under the flickering candlelight.
"You dropped your necklace, Matteo," Adrian whispered. "Your lead mercenary was wearing it. I suppose he wanted a holy blessing before he came into my house to slaughter my people."
"Adrian... listen to me," Matteo gasped, pushing his chair back with a violent screech against the floor. "It's not what it looks like! Dante... Dante set me up! He was working for the Russians, I swear to God!"
"Dante is already dead, Matteo," Adrian said coldly. "He spent his last twenty minutes telling Silvio every wire transfer, every offshore account, and every meeting you held in Zurich over the last six months."
Matteo realized in that horrific instant that there was no way out. The guards standing at the perimeter doors were not his men; they were Silvio’s killers from the harbor.
Desperation, raw and ugly, twisted Matteo’s handsome face into a snarling mask of rage.
He lunged forward, reaching for the ceramic steak knife resting on his plate, intending to vault across the table at Adrian’s throat.
*Crack.*
Adrian didn't even stand up. His pistol, concealed beneath the table edge, fired a single shot through the heavy mahogany.
The bullet struck Matteo squarely in the knee. The traitor collapsed to the floor with a high-pitched scream of agony, clutching his shattered leg as blood pooled rapidly across the polished floorboards.
"Grace," Adrian said without looking away from his cousin. "Take Lily back to the library. Close the doors."
"Yes, Mr. Moretti," Grace whispered, swiftly ushering Lily away before the child could see the full extent of the carnage.
Adrian stood up slowly, walked around the table, and looked down at his groveling cousin.
May you like
"You wanted to take my house, Matteo," Adrian said, planting the heavy heel of his shoe directly on Matteo’s wounded knee, pressing down until the screams turned into breathless sobs. "Now tell me who gave you the poison. Because you’re too cowardly to brew curare on your own."
***
