Chapter 5 - The Betrayal Within the WallsAt 1:45 PM, I stood in the luxurious guest suite upstairs, zipping up a simple duffel bag filled with clothes Mrs. Gable, the head housekeeper, had quietly provided for me.
My heart felt heavy. The reality of leaving Chicago—of walking away from my mother, my small apartment, my entire world—was crashing down on me. But I knew Dante was right. Staying here meant walking into a crossfire.
A sharp, urgent knock rattled the bedroom door.
“Come in,” I called out, thinking it was Leo to escort me to the airfield.
The door pushed open.
It wasn't Leo.
It was a man in a sharp gray suit—one of Dante’s senior financial advisors whom I had seen around the estate twice before. His name was Marcus Vance—Vanessa’s cousin.
And in his right hand, he held a sleek, suppressed Beretta pistol aimed directly at my chest.
“Going somewhere, sweet-check?” Marcus smiled, his eyes cold and dead behind wire-rimmed glasses.
I froze, the duffel bag slipping from my fingers and hitting the hardwood floor with a dull thud. “Marcus... what are you doing?”
“Tidying up loose ends,” Marcus replied smoothly, stepping into the room and kicking the door shut behind him. “Dante is a sentimental fool. He thinks giving you half a million dollars and shipping you to Canada is going to keep you quiet. But family is family, Cara. And Vanessa and I have bigger plans for Moretti Holdings than letting a stubborn waitress ruin our empire.”
My mind raced. Every instinct screamed for me to move, but my legs were glued to the floor.
“You cut the brakes,” I breathed out.
“I supervised,” Marcus corrected, raising the pistol just a fraction higher. “And now, I’m going to make sure the job actually gets finished. Only this time, it won't look like a car crash. It’ll look like a tragic break-in while the boss’s special guest was packing her things.”
He pulled the trigger back.
Click.
Before the firing pin could drop, the heavy oak bedroom door exploded inward, splintering into a thousand pieces of flying wood.
Marcus didn't even have time to turn around.
A massive shadow slammed into him from behind, sending him crashing across the antique vanity table. Glass shattered, and a heavy, brutal thud echoed through the room as Dante Moretti buried his fist directly into Marcus’s face with enough force to crack bone.
Marcus screamed, dropping the gun as Dante pinned him to the floor, raining blows down upon him with cold, systematic fury.
“You...” Dante growled, his voice vibrating with murder as he landed punch after punch. “You sold out my blood. You tried to kill me in my own car!”
“Boss—stop—please!” Marcus choked out through a mouthful of blood, his arms uselessly trying to shield his head.
Dante grabbed Marcus by the collar of his suit jacket, hauled him up off the floor with one hand, and slammed him against the broken vanity mirror.
“Leo!” Dante roared over his shoulder.
Two seconds later, Leo appeared in the doorway, taking in the scene with a cold, professional glance.
May you like
“Boss?”
“Take this traitor down to the basement vault,” Dante commanded, his chest heaving as he shoved Marcus into Leo’s grip. “And make sure Vanessa is waiting down there for him. We have a family meeting to attend.”
