Chapter 12 - A Whisper of Treason

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Nevaeh watched Leandro disappear into a private corridor, followed shortly after by Dante Falcone and his bodyguard.
She knew she was supposed to stay put. But as she scanned the ballroom, she realized Stella was nowhere to be found.
Trusting her instincts, Nevaeh set her champagne glass down. She caught Marco’s eye across the room, gave him a polite smile, and subtly pointed toward the ladies' restroom. Marco nodded, holding his position.
Instead of going to the restroom, Nevaeh slipped down a parallel service hallway that ran behind the private meeting rooms. She knew the layout of the house better than anyone now.
She crept along the carpeted floor until she heard voices leaking from a slightly cracked door.
"...he's completely distracted by that fat bitch," Stella's voice sneered.
Nevaeh winced, but forced herself to press her ear closer to the crack.
“It doesn't matter,” Dante Falcone’s voice replied. “The shipment at the docks is secured. As soon as we eliminate your brother tonight, the Perry empire folds into the Falcone family. And you get your fifty million offshore, just like we agreed.”
“Are you sure the men are in place?” Stella asked nervously.
“My shooters are disguised as the valet team,” Dante laughed darkly. “When Leandro steps out to the smoking patio, they hit him. You take the throne, Stella.”
Nevaeh’s blood ran completely cold. Stella wasn't just a spoiled brat. She was an active traitor. She was orchestrating the assassination of her own brother tonight.
Nevaeh turned to run back and warn Leandro, but her heel caught the edge of the heavy service carpet. She stumbled, her shoulder hitting the wall with a soft, but noticeable, thud.
The voices inside the room stopped instantly.
“Did you hear that?” Stella hissed.
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The heavy wooden door swung open. Dante Falcone stood in the doorway, pulling a suppressed handgun from his tuxedo jacket. He spotted Nevaeh instantly.
“Well, well,” Dante grinned, raising the weapon. “Looks like the boss’s pet got off her leash.”