Chapter 11 - A CORNERED BEAST
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Victor swung the concealed blade toward Luca’s throat with vicious, practiced speed.
Luca ducked beneath the whistling steel, his shoulder slamming into Victor’s chest like a battering ram.
The two men crashed heavily into the glass front of the antique bookcase, shattering panes across the floor.
The gun was knocked from Luca’s grip, skittering across the polished floorboards straight toward Vanessa’s feet.
Vanessa screamed and dropped to her knees, scrambling desperately to snatch the fallen weapon.
Without thinking, I surged forward from the shadows, kicking the heavy steel pistol across the room with all my strength.
The gun slid across the parquet and disappeared under the heavy cast-iron radiator beneath the window.
“You meddling little maid!” Vanessa shrieked, lunging at me with her manicured fingernails aimed at my face.
I dodged her clumsy swing and shoved her backward into the leather sofa, sending her tumbling over the cushions.
Across the room, the struggle between the two Morettis was brutal and bloody.
Victor slashed wild arcs with the cane blade, catching Luca across the forearm and tearing through his tailored black jacket.
Dark crimson blood welled instantly from the cut, dripping onto the Persian carpet.
Luca didn't even flinch at the pain; his eyes were focused purely on neutralizing the traitor before him.
He grabbed Victor’s wrist with a crushing grip, twisting the joint until the older man cried out in agony.
The cane clattered uselessly to the floor, leaving Victor weaponless and pinned against the shattered bookcase.
Luca drove a devastating right hook into his uncle's jaw, snapping Victor's head back against the wall.
Victor slumped to his knees, spitting blood and broken teeth onto the floorboards.
“You think you’ve won, nephew?” Victor gasped, coughing through a mouthful of crimson foam.
“Dante has five men stationed at that grain elevator with automatic rifles!”
“Your enforcer Marco won't make it past the perimeter fence!”
“And the moment they hear gunfire, they will drop that eight-year-old brat into forty feet of freezing water!”
Arthur let out a ragged sob from beside the desk, clutching his chest as if his heart were tearing apart.
“Please, Victor,” Arthur begged, tears streaming down his weathered cheeks.
“Take my life!”
“Torture me, shoot me, do whatever you want, but spare my little Lily!”
“She never hurt a soul in her life!”
Victor laughed, a wet, choking sound that echoed off the high ceilings.
“Her life is the only reason Luca hasn't put a bullet through my skull yet, Arthur.”
“She dies the second I give the word.”
At that exact moment, the cheap burner phone resting on the sofa began to ring with an ear-splitting chime.
Vanessa scrambled across the cushions, snatching the phone and pressing it triumphantly to her ear.
“Dante!” she shouted into the receiver.
“Do it now!”
“Drown the girl and burn the warehouse to the ground!”
There was a brief, agonizing pause as everyone in the room held their breath.
Then, a deep, calm voice resonated through the phone’s speaker, loud enough for all of us to hear.
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“Dante is taking a nap on the concrete floor, Mrs. Moretti.”
It was Marco.
