Chapter 7 - THE TRAITOR'S BARGAIN
"Well, well," Vanessa smiled, her red silk dress torn and stained with mud. "Look who finally decided to join the party."
Luca raised his shotgun, aiming it squarely at Vanessa’s chest. "Put the gun down, Vanessa."
Richard looked terrified, his hands trembling around his scotch glass. "Luca! Thank God. She’s insane. She broke in here ten minutes ago!"
"Shut up, old man," Vanessa snapped, pressing the barrel harder against Richard's temple. She looked at me, her eyes filled with venom. "I see the maid survived my welcoming committee."
"We have the briefcase, Vanessa," I said, my voice steady. "We have the recordings. It's over."
Vanessa laughed, a high, desperate sound. "It’s not over until I say it is. Richard has fifty million dollars in an offshore account. He’s going to wire it to me, and then I’m getting on a plane to Belize."
"He can't wire you the money," Luca said coldly. "Because I froze his accounts an hour ago."
Richard gasped. Vanessa’s smile vanished.
"You're lying," Vanessa sneered.
"Try it," Luca challenged.
Vanessa grabbed Richard by the collar. "Transfer the funds! Now!"
Richard frantically typed on his laptop sitting on the side table. A red error message flashed on the screen. ACCESS DENIED.
"He's telling the truth," Richard sobbed. "The accounts are locked!"
Vanessa screamed in frustration. She swung her gun toward Luca.
But in that split second, Richard did something unexpected. The cowardly old man grabbed his heavy crystal scotch glass and smashed it directly into Vanessa’s face.
Vanessa shrieked, firing blindly into the ceiling as she fell backward over the coffee table.
Luca moved with terrifying speed. He crossed the room, kicked the gun out of Vanessa’s hand, and pinned her to the floor with his heavy combat boot on her chest.
"Don't move," Luca growled.
Richard scrambled to his feet, breathing heavily. "Thank you, Luca. She’s a monster. She orchestrated everything with Marcus."
"I know," Luca said. He didn't lower his shotgun. He aimed it directly at his uncle. "But she didn't sign the insurance claims, Richard. You did."
Richard’s face drained of color. "Luca, I had to! Marcus threatened me!"
"You burned families alive for a paycheck!" I yelled, stepping forward and dropping the briefcase onto the table. I pulled out the photograph of Richard, Marcus, and Vanessa at the diner. "You were smiling!"
Richard looked at the photo, his mouth opening and closing like a trapped fish.
"I... I can explain," Richard stammered.
"Save it for the FBI," Luca said. "Daniel already sent the files to the Federal Prosecutor in New York. They’re bypassing the corrupt DA here. It’s over, Richard."
Suddenly, the sound of a heavy diesel engine roared outside the cabin. Headlights pierced through the fog, illuminating the large bay windows.
"Looks like my ride is here," a deep voice laughed from the front door.
Marcus Moretti stepped into the cabin, holding a detonator switch in his hand. He was bruised and bloody from where Luca had beaten him at the mansion, but he looked triumphant.
"Marcus!" Richard cried. "Help me!"
"Sorry, Uncle," Marcus smiled. "You're a liability."
Marcus raised a pistol and shot Richard twice in the chest.
Richard collapsed onto the rug, dead.
I screamed, covering my ears.
Luca swung his shotgun toward his brother, but Marcus held up the detonator.
"Ah, ah, ah," Marcus warned. "I wired this entire cabin with C4 while you were busy chatting. You shoot me, my thumb slips, and we all go up in flames."
Luca froze, his finger tense on the trigger.
"What do you want, Marcus?" Luca demanded.
"I want the briefcase," Marcus said, stepping carefully into the room. "And I want the maid."
My heart stopped.
"You're not touching her," Luca snarled, stepping in front of me.
"She has seen too much, little brother," Marcus laughed. "Hand her over, and I let you walk out of here alive."
"Never."
Marcus sighed. "Suit yourself."
He raised his gun to shoot Luca.
But before he could pull the trigger, a small, gray blur launched from the top of the cabin stairs.
It was Arthur.
The seventy-two-year-old stroke survivor had not stayed at the safe house. He had hidden in the back of Daniel’s van.
Arthur tackled Marcus with a desperate, heavy grunt.
The two men crashed into the wooden coffee table. The detonator flew from Marcus's hand, skidding across the floor.
"Arthur, no!" Vanessa screamed from the floor.
Marcus roared in anger, throwing the frail old man off him. He raised his gun toward Arthur.
But Luca was faster.
Luca fired the shotgun. The blast hit Marcus squarely in the chest, throwing him through the glass of the bay window and out into the foggy night.
Silence fell over the cabin.
I ran to Arthur, sliding on my knees beside him. "Mr. Bellini! Are you okay?"
Arthur coughed, clutching his ribs. He looked up at me and gave a shaky, triumphant smile.
May you like
"Protected... the girl," Arthur whispered.
I burst into tears, hugging the brave old man tight.
