Chapter 1 - The Gasper and the Lens
The ten-second count felt like ten years.
One... two... three...
Underneath my small hands, Alejandro Moretti’s leg was rigid as iron. The auto-injector’s spring had snapped against his thigh with a sharp clack, forcing the precious dose of epinephrine through his expensive trousers.
Four... five... six...
"Get her off him!" shouted Vance, the chief of internal security, lunging forward. His heavy hand reached for the collar of my pink rabbit backpack.
Before Vance’s fingers could touch my shoulder, a sound cracked through the room.
It was a deep, ragged gasp of air.
Alejandro’s chest heaved upward like a drowning man breaking the surface of icy water. The terrible gray hue around his lips began to flush with a faint, angry pink. His hand, still locked around my tiny wrist, didn't loosen—it tightened, holding me to him like an anchor in a storm.
"Stay... back," Alejandro choked out. His voice sounded like dry gravel dragged over concrete, but the sheer command in it brought both guards to a dead halt.
Vance froze halfway across the Persian rug. His eyes flicked nervously from his dying boss to the corner of the room—specifically toward the third shelf of the mahogany bookcase.
Embedded between two leather-bound law volumes sat a tiny glass bead, no larger than a ladybug. Inside it, a faint red LED pulsed at three-second intervals.
A hidden, hardwired security camera.
It wasn't connected to the main security hub downstairs in the guard house. It was Alejandro’s private feed, wired directly to an off-site quantum server that only he possessed the encryption key to open.
And Vance knew it.
I saw the security chief’s face transform. The rigid professional discipline melted away, replaced by the raw, murderous terror of a man who realized his execution had just been recorded in high definition.
"Boss..." Vance stammered, taking a step back toward his holster. "We... we heard a noise. We came as fast as we could. The kid must have given you something—"
"You... stood there," Alejandro rasped. He forced himself up onto one elbow, his dark eyes burning with terrifying clarity as the epinephrine forced blood back into his brain. "You stood in the doorway... for two minutes... while I suffocated."
"No, sir! The door was jammed—"
"I watched you, Vance," Alejandro growled. He looked down at me. My legs were shaking so hard my knees knocked together, but I held my ground. "The girl... gave me air. You... gave me excuses."
Suddenly, the study door swung open completely, slamming against the doorstop.
"Emma!"
My mother, Elena, stood in the hallway, her servant’s apron stained with bleach, her face ghostly white. She had broken the house rules—maids were never allowed on the executive floor after hours without an escort—but terror had wiped away her obedience.
"Mama!" I cried out.
Elena rushed past Vance, sliding on her knees across the marble floor to pull me against her chest. She wrapped her arms around me so tightly I could hear her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
"I’m sorry, Mr. Moretti! Please don't hurt her!" Elena sobbed, shielding my body with hers. "She’s only four! She didn't mean to intrude—"
"She saved my life, Elena," Alejandro said quietly, his voice growing stronger with every second as his airway expanded.
He pushed himself up against the carved leg of his mahogany desk, standing at his full six-foot-two height. Though his shirt was unbuttoned and his neck was slick with cold sweat, the aura of supreme power surrounding him returned like a physical weight pressing down on the room.
Alejandro looked at Vance. Then he looked at the second guard, Dominic.
"Vance," Alejandro said softly. "Hand me your sidearm."
Silence stretched across the study. The log in the fireplace popped, sending a shower of orange sparks up the chimney.
Vance didn't reach for his holster. His hand hovered three inches above the black leather grip. His eyes darted to Dominic, signaling a unspoken command.
"Boss," Vance whispered, his voice dropping into a dark threat. "You're weak right now. You can barely stand. If that camera feed gets out, the entire commission will know I tried to clear the way for Underboss Lorenzo. Just let us finish this. We can tell the family the allergy killed you... and the maid and her kid were collateral."
Dominic drew his weapon.
My mother gasped, burying my face into her neck. But I peeked through my fingers.
Alejandro didn't blink. A slow, terrifying smile spread across his lips.
"You always were an idiot, Vance," Alejandro murmured. "You thought I kept my sidearm in my desk?"
Before Vance could react, Alejandro’s right foot struck the hidden release button under the baseboard.
May you like
CLICK.
A compartment behind the desk chair sprang open. In one fluid, seamless motion, Alejandro drew a suppressed custom pistol, brought it up, and fired twice.
