Chapter 5 - Blood and Salt|
The car pulled into a hidden underground garage beneath a towering, unmarked brick building near the river. High-frequency jammers hummed along the ceiling, neutralizing any tracking signals.
Luca stepped out first, his hand resting heavy on the butt of his pistol as he scanned the concrete pillars. "Clear."
Matteo opened his door and held out a hand for Elena. She stared at it, refusing to take it, and stepped out on her own power. Her knees wobbled, but she kept her chin high.
"I need my phone," Elena said as they walked toward a private elevator. "I need to call the police."
Matteo let out a dry, bitter laugh that sounded like snapping twigs. "The police? Half the precinct commanders in this city answer to Don Carmine. The other half answer to the people trying to poison my dinner. You call the police, and a squad car will drop you directly into a cement mixer."
The elevator doors opened into a sprawling, darkened penthouse. Steel shutters covered the floor-to-ceiling windows. The room smelled of expensive leather, cold coffee, and gun oil.
"Sit," Matteo instructed, gesturing toward a deep velvet sofa.
Elena remained standing. "Who poisoned the plate, Matteo? If your father wants the ledger, why try to kill you with it?"
Matteo walked over to a wet bar, pouring two fingers of amber liquid into a heavy crystal glass. He didn't drink. He just stared into the amber depth.
"Because my father didn't send Marco to poison the dish," Matteo said, his voice dropping into a deadly register. "My father wants me alive so I can lead the family. The poison was meant to frame you for my murder, forcing my men to execute you on the spot before you could ever open your mouth."
Elena swallowed hard, her throat feeling like sandpaper. "Who wanted both of us dead?"
Before Matteo could answer, a monitor on the wall hummed to life. A automated security feed flickered, showing the alleyway outside the penthouse garage.
A sleek black van had just pulled up to the security gate. The side door slid open.
Luca drew his gun instantly. "Matteo. They tracked the jammer pulse."
Matteo didn't panic. He walked over to a heavy oak desk, unlocked a lower drawer, and pulled out a small, silver-plated revolver. He walked back to Elena, pressing the cold handle into her palm.
"Do you know how to use this?" he asked.
May you like
Elena stared at the weapon in her trembling hand. "No."
"Point it at anyone who opens that door who isn't me," Matteo said, his dark eyes locking onto hers with terrifying intensity. "Because if they get past Luca and me, they aren't here to talk."
