Chapter 7 - PIER 44
The rain hammered relentlessly against the steel shipping containers at Pier 44. The air smelled of salt, diesel, and impending death.
Vivienne crouched behind a rusted forklift, the torn remnants of her white wedding dress plastered to her skin, stained with mud, grease, and blood. Beside her, Don Salvatore DeLuca moved with a grim, silent determination. The old boss had stripped off his tuxedo jacket, holding Marcus’s shotgun with a steady hand.
They had left Leo safely locked in the cabin’s hidden cellar. Now, it was just the two of them against an army.
Peering around the tire of the forklift, Vivienne surveyed the scene.
At the end of the pier, a massive luxury yacht idled in the dark water. Dozens of heavily armed men patrolled the docks. In the center of the loading zone, beneath a floodlight, stood Antonio.
He was out of his wedding suit, wearing a black tactical jacket. On a metal barrel in front of him sat a laptop, its screen glowing with the green lines of a hospital’s telemetry system. Maya’s heartbeat.
“He’s heavily guarded,” Salvatore whispered, assessing the men. “There are snipers on the crane. We can’t just walk in.”
“I don’t plan to,” Vivienne replied, pulling a flare gun from her stolen tactical belt. She had found it in Marcus’s truck.
“Antonio wants me,” she said. “When I step out, he’ll focus all his men on me. That’s your window to get to the crane. Take out the sniper, then cover me while I get to that laptop.”
Salvatore looked at her, his dark eyes filled with a sudden, overwhelming sorrow. “If this goes wrong, Vivienne... I need you to know. Leaving you was the hardest thing I ever did.”
Vivienne looked at the father she had only known for three hours. The monster she had been sent to destroy, who was now fighting beside her.
“Save the apologies for when we survive,” she said softly.
Then, she stepped out from behind the forklift.
“Antonio!” she screamed over the roaring wind.
Every gun on the pier instantly locked onto her.
Antonio turned, a cruel smile spreading across his handsome face. He lazily raised a hand, signaling his men to hold their fire.
“Well, well,” Antonio called out, his voice amplified by a megaphone. “The blushing bride arrives. But where is the ringbearer? Where is Leo?”
Vivienne walked slowly down the center of the pier, her hands raised, holding the red ledger in her left hand. Rain washed the plaster dust from her face.
“He’s gone, Antonio,” Vivienne shouted, stopping fifty feet away from him. “I put him on a train with a federal marshal who isn't on your payroll. You’ll never find him.”
Antonio’s smile vanished. His eyes darkened with absolute fury.
“You are bluffing,” he snarled.
“Am I?” she countered. “Let Maya go. You have the money. Take your boat and run. If you touch her, I throw this ledger into the harbor, and you lose your leverage over half the police force.”
Antonio stared at her, then threw his head back and laughed. It was a cold, hollow sound.
“You think this is a negotiation?” Antonio asked, walking toward her, his men following closely behind. “You think you have the moral high ground?”
He stopped a few feet away. “Tell me, Vivienne. Did your new father tell you the truth about your mother’s death?”
Vivienne froze. “What are you talking about?”
Antonio smiled maliciously. “He told you my grandfather ordered the hit on Elena, right? But did he tell you why she died that night? Did he tell you he was warned?”
Vivienne’s eyes flicked to the shadows near the crane, waiting for Salvatore to move. “Shut up.”
“The old Don gave Salvatore a choice!” Antonio yelled over the storm. “He told him: ‘Step down as heir, give up the family business, and you can run away with your little schoolteacher.’ But Salvatore wouldn’t give up the power. He chose the throne over her. He let her die to keep his crown!”
Vivienne felt the air leave her lungs. She couldn’t breathe.
Suddenly, a loud pump-action clack echoed behind her.
She turned.
Salvatore wasn't at the crane. He was standing ten feet behind her. And the barrel of his shotgun was pointed directly at her back.
Antonio laughed triumphantly. “There’s the monster we all know and love. Hello, Father. Ready to protect your empire one last time?”
Salvatore’s face was an unreadable mask of stone. He looked at Vivienne, the daughter he had abandoned, the daughter whose mother he had failed to save.
“He’s right, Vivienne,” Salvatore whispered, his voice cracking with decades of suppressed guilt. “I let her die. I’m so sorry.”
May you like
He closed his eyes.
And pulled the trigger.
