Chapter 7 - The Warning
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Sophia stared at Valentina, searching the Italian woman’s face for any sign of a bluff. There was none. Valentina wasn’t here to gloat; she was here delivering a genuine, terrifying warning.
“Why are you telling me this?” Sophia asked quietly, her heart beginning to pound a heavy, frantic rhythm against her ribs. “Why do you care what your brother does to me?”
Valentina stood up straight, adjusting the collar of her scarlet coat. Her dark eyes flashed with a complicated mixture of pride and bitterness.
“Because I know what it feels like to be a pawn on a board controlled by men,” Valentina said, her voice dripping with venom. “My father sold me to Adrian to secure shipping routes. Adrian lied to me to keep his little civilian fantasy alive. If my brother kills you, it only proves that the men in our lives hold all the power. I refuse to let Dante use your blood to start a war that I will have to clean up.”
“I’m not a pawn,” Sophia stated firmly, lifting her chin. “And I don’t run.”
Valentina looked at her, a faint, almost pitying smile touching her lips. “Bravery is admirable, Miss Bennett. But it won’t stop a bullet. Dante doesn’t negotiate. He eradicates.”
Valentina turned on her heel, her stilettos clicking sharply as she walked back toward the glass doors. She paused with her hand on the handle, looking back over her shoulder.
“Leave the city, Sophia. Today. If you are still here by the weekend, even Adrian won’t be able to save you.”
The door chimed as Valentina exited, flanked immediately by her massive guards.
Sophia stood alone in the quiet gallery, the smell of turpentine and expensive coffee suddenly making her nauseous. The reality of the situation crashed over her in a suffocating wave. She wasn’t just dealing with a cheating ex-boyfriend. She was caught in the crossfire of a mafia syndicate war.
She walked quickly into her office and locked the door. She pulled up the encrypted files containing the Venetian shipping manifests.
If Dante Russo was coming for her, running would only delay the inevitable. The mafia had a long reach. She needed leverage. She needed a weapon.
As she scrolled through the complex routing numbers and shell company names Adrian had used, a sudden, sharp sound shattered the silence of her office.
CRASH.
The heavy glass window overlooking the alleyway exploded inward. Shards of glass rained down onto her desk, sparkling like deadly diamonds.
Sophia screamed, throwing her arms over her head and diving beneath the heavy mahogany desk.
A heavy, jagged rock lay amidst the ruined glass on the floor. Tied around it with thick twine was a piece of expensive, cream-colored stationary.
Sophia crawled forward, her hands shaking uncontrollably, and pulled the paper free.
May you like
Written in elegant, dark blue ink were three words:
Tick tock, Bennett.
