Chapter 12 - The Confrontation
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I backed away from the desk, my mind racing for an escape route. The study was essentially a fortress; the windows were bulletproof, and the only exit was blocked by Marco and his weapon.
"You're the mole," I breathed, staring at the gun pointed at my chest. "You've been diverting the shipments to the Romano family. You betrayed Luca."
Marco chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. "Luca is a fool. He let a pretty face distract him from the real war. Don Romano offered me double my salary and a territory of my own to bring the Moretti empire down from the inside. Isabella was supposed to be the key, but when you ruined that, I had to improvise."
"If you kill me, Luca will tear you apart," I warned, trying to keep the terror out of my voice.
"Luca won't know it was me," Marco sneered, stepping closer. "I'll make it look like a Romano hit squad breached the estate. It will be the perfect tragedy to finally break him."
He raised the gun, aiming directly at my head.
I closed my eyes, bracing for the gunshot.
But the gunshot didn't come from Marco.
The heavy oak door of the study practically exploded off its hinges. A deafening crack echoed through the room.
Marco screamed, dropping his weapon as a bullet shattered his shoulder. He collapsed onto the Persian rug, clutching his bleeding arm in agony.
I opened my eyes.
Luca stood in the doorway, his chest heaving, a smoking pistol in his hand. His face was a mask of absolute, unadulterated demonic fury. He didn't look like a businessman anymore. He looked like the grim reaper.
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He marched into the room, kicking Marco’s discarded gun away before grabbing his former head of security by the throat, lifting him half off the floor.
"You touched what is mine," Luca roared.
