Chapter 5 - Sins of the Father
They dragged themselves out of the foam-drenched kitchen and into the climate-controlled stillness of the estate’s massive wine cellar. The air here was cool and smelled of cork and aged oak. The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind them, and Daniel quickly jammed a metal chair under the handle to barricade it.
Bianca collapsed against a rack of vintage Bordeaux, her dress completely ruined—stained with dirt, blood, and chemical foam. She buried her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably.
Gabriel didn’t comfort her. He walked over to a high-top tasting table, slammed a fresh magazine into his stolen submachine gun, and turned to face his bride.
“Time is up, Bianca,” Gabriel said, his voice devoid of the adrenaline that had just carried them through the kitchen. “The five minutes are gone. My mother is going to realize I didn’t walk out into the courtyard. Which means she’s going to start killing guests. So you are going to tell me exactly what the endgame is.”
Bianca looked up, her mascara running in dark streaks down her pale face. “I told you! She wants you to face the Commission. She wants you stripped of your title for what you did to your father.”
“The Commission doesn’t care about patricide if the money keeps flowing,” Gabriel countered sharply. “And my mother isn’t stupid enough to start a war just for revenge. She wants the empire. But she can’t take it if I’m dead. The legitimate assets—the real estate, the shell companies, the offshore accounts—are all locked under my biometric signatures. She needs me alive.”
Daniel wiped blood from his forehead, looking at Gabriel. “That’s why the sniper didn’t take the shot when he had you in the crosshairs through the glass. They wanted to herd you outside. Capture, not kill.”
“Exactly,” Gabriel said. He stepped closer to Bianca, towering over her. “So, what is the plan, Bianca? Where are they taking me?”
Bianca shrank back, terrified. “There’s a helicopter! It’s waiting at the private airfield ten miles from here. They’re going to fly you to a black site in international waters. A place where they can… where they can force you to sign everything over. My father gets the street operations, and Teresa gets the legitimate billions.”
Natalie stood near the door, clutching her tablet to her chest. She had coordinated this entire wedding. She had picked out the linens, tasted the cake, and argued with the florist. Now, she was standing in a wine cellar, listening to a billionaire mafia boss dissect a corporate hostile takeover backed by assault rifles.
“A helicopter,” Gabriel mused, looking at Daniel. “That means she’s consolidated her heavy hitters at the extraction point. The loading dock is clear, but the driveway will be heavily guarded.”
“We can’t fight our way down the main drive, Gabriel,” Daniel warned. “They’ll have SUVs blocking the gates. We’re sitting ducks.”
Natalie cleared her throat. Both men looked at her.
“You don’t have to take the main drive,” Natalie said, her voice steadier than she felt. “The venue has a service road that runs through the golf course. It’s unpaved, mostly used for landscaping equipment. But it leads directly to the highway, bypassing the main gates entirely.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “Where are the keys to the service vehicles?”
“The landscaping shed, across the courtyard,” Natalie replied.
Daniel cursed. “The courtyard. That’s exactly where the sniper on the roof has overlapping fields of fire. If we step out there, we’re dead.”
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Natalie looked down at her tablet. The screen was still glowing. She swiped to the entertainment tab.
“I might have a solution for the sniper,” Natalie said quietly. “But you’re going to have to run very, very fast.”
