Chapter 2 - THE GHOST IN THE ROOM
The voice whispering his name didn’t belong to a ghost.
Luca didn’t turn around. He didn’t have to. The heavy, raspy breathing behind him belonged to Elias, his father’s most loyal enforcer—a man who had supposedly died of liver cancer three years ago.
Elias was holding a modified megaphone connected to the ballroom’s audio system. The dead father’s voice on the speakers had been an old recording. A distraction.
The three red laser dots held steady. One on Luca’s chest. One on Mia’s trembling shoulder. One on Isabella’s flawless white wedding dress.
Isabella’s smile faltered for the first time. She looked at Victor Salerno, her new ally, who looked just as confused.
“Drop the weapons, Victor,” Elias rasped from behind Luca, stepping into the light. He held a detonator in his left hand. “Or the C4 wired under this ballroom floor sends us all to hell.”
Victor’s men hesitated. Isabella took a step back, her high heel crunching on broken glass. “Luca,” she pleaded, her voice suddenly sweet again. “They’re forcing me. Victor threatened my family—”
“Shut up,” Luca said. His voice was a low, terrifying rumble.
He didn’t look at his bride. He looked at the waitress beside him. Mia was pale, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the table. She wasn’t supposed to be in this world of blood and deception. Yet, she was the only one who had tried to save him.
“Why is there a laser on my fiancée?” Luca asked Elias, his eyes never leaving Victor.
“Because,” Elias growled, “she’s wearing a bulletproof vest under that silk gown. She knew they were coming to shoot up the room. She planned to be the grieving widow who miraculously survived.”
Isabella’s face drained of color.
Before anyone could pull a trigger, the heavy chandelier above them sparked and exploded. Darkness swallowed the ballroom.
Gunfire erupted. It was deafening, flashing like lightning in the pitch-black room. Luca didn’t think. He grabbed Mia by the waist, tackling her behind the heavy marble pillar. Bullets chewed through the stone where his head had just been.
Screams echoed as guests scrambled. Luca pulled his sidearm, firing three blind shots toward Victor’s position to keep them pinned.
“Can you run?” Luca shouted over the chaos, gripping Mia’s arm.
“Yes!” she gasped, her hands shaking.
“Stay behind me.”
He led her through the kitchen service doors, kicking them open. The stainless steel prep tables were abandoned. He could hear Victor’s men shouting in the hallway. They were being hunted in his own hotel.
They burst into the back alley. The cold night rain instantly soaked them. Luca pushed Mia toward his armored black SUV parked in the shadows.
“Get in!” he ordered.
As she climbed into the passenger seat, something slipped from her apron pocket and clattered onto the wet asphalt.
Luca reached down to grab it. He froze.
It was a heavy, tarnished silver rosary. The crucifix was bent, and the beads were stained with old, dried blood.
He knew this rosary. It had been buried with his father fifteen years ago.
Luca slowly looked up at Mia. The rain matted her dark hair against her face. She looked terrified, but her eyes held a fierce, desperate fire.
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“Where did you get this?” Luca demanded, his voice dangerously quiet.
Mia swallowed hard, staring at the beads. “He gave it to me. Right before Victor shot him.”
