Chapter 2 - Shadows in the Marble
The suppressed shots sounded like two heavy books dropping onto a carpeted floor.
Pfft. Pfft.
Dominic collapsed instantly, dropping his weapon before he even hit the ground. Vance gasped, clutching his shoulder as he crashed backward into the glass display case, shattering a row of vintage decanters.
"Elena, take the child behind the desk," Alejandro ordered, his voice cold and steady, without a trace of the dying man who had been clawing at his throat three minutes prior.
Mama didn't hesitate. She scooped me up into her arms and scrambled behind the thick oak desk, pressing me beneath the kneehole space. I hugged my pink rabbit backpack against my chest, smelling the metallic scent of gunpowder mixing with the sweet, bitter smell of spilled vintage wine.
Alejandro stepped over the broken glass, stopping directly over Vance. He placed the warm barrel of the suppressed pistol against Vance’s forehead.
"Who supplied the toxin?" Alejandro asked softly.
Vance spat blood onto the rug, grinning through stained teeth. "You think... you think it ends with me, Moretti? Lorenzo’s already moving his men to the gates. The whole mansion... is locked down from the inside. You're trapped."
"I am never trapped in my own home," Alejandro replied.
He didn't fire again. Instead, he brought the butt of the pistol down sharply against Vance’s temple, knocking the chief unconscious.
Alejandro turned back toward the desk. He knelt down slowly—his legs still stiff from the chemical shock of the reaction—and looked under the desk where Mama and I were huddled.
His dark eyes, famous for making hardened cartel bosses sweat, softened as he looked at my face.
"What is your name, little one?" he asked softly.
"Emma," I whispered, holding up my stuffed rabbit. "This is Barnaby."
Alejandro looked at the empty blue-capped plastic tube lying on the floor beside his desk. He recognized what it was immediately.
"You gave me your EpiPen, Emma," Alejandro said. "Why?"
"Because Mama says when someone can't breathe, it hurts," I said simply. "And because Barnaby said you needed help."
Alejandro looked at my mother. Elena was trembling, her hands gripped tightly around my waist, terrified that saving the monster of Chicago would cost us our lives.
"Elena," Alejandro said gently. "How many auto-injectors did you have for her?"
Elena swallowed hard, her eyes watering. "That... that was her last one, Mr. Moretti. The specialty insurance refused to cover the refills this month. I was going to buy another one with my next paycheck..."
Alejandro’s jaw tightened until a muscle jumped in his cheek. A deep, heavy guilt settled into his eyes.
"She used her only shield to save a man who didn't even know her name," he murmured.
Suddenly, the red emergency lights along the corridor began to pulse. A low, rhythmic horn echoed through the mansion's ventilation shafts.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
"The lockdown protocol," Alejandro muttered, standing up. "Lorenzo’s men have cut the master landlines and sealed the perimeter gates. They think I'm dead inside this room."
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He reached out his large, calloused hand toward my mother.
"Get up, Elena. From this second, you and Emma do not leave my sight. If anyone in this house wants to touch a hair on your daughter's head, they will have to walk over my dead body first."
