Chapter 6 - THE DARK LIBRARY
The door splintered outward with a deafening crash. I pulled my father back into the shadows of the stairwell, clutching the burned watch to my chest.
Gunfire erupted instantly. Deafening pops echoed through the massive library. But Marco didn’t run into the room. He dropped to the floor the second he kicked the door, rolling behind a heavy oak bookshelf.
“Spread out!” a voice yelled. It wasn’t Leo. It was one of his mercenaries. “He’s half-blind, he can’t shoot!”
They were right. Marco didn’t have a gun. But he had something better.
Clack. Marco swung the steel pipe against a lower shelf. The sound echoed. One of the guards turned toward the noise, his boots stepping heavily on the antique hardwood.
Creak. Marco knew that sound. It was the loose board near the fireplace. In the darkness, Marco lunged. He swung the pipe low, shattering the guard’s knee. The man screamed and went down. Marco stripped the handgun from his grip in a fluid motion and tossed it away—he knew he couldn't aim it accurately anyway.
“He’s over there!” the second guard shouted, firing blindly into the dark corner.
From the stairwell, my father grabbed my penlight. “Close your eyes, Sofia,” he whispered.
My father threw the penlight high into the air, straight into the center of the library. It clattered against the glass chandelier. The two remaining guards instinctively looked up at the light.
That fraction of a second was all Marco needed. He moved like a ghost, closing the distance. He drove his shoulder into the second guard, sending them both crashing through a glass display case.
The third guard panicked. He aimed his weapon wildly. But before he could pull the trigger, a small, terrified voice cried out from the corner of the room. “Daddy?”
Marco froze. The guard spun toward the voice. Tied to a heavy leather armchair near the window was a little boy, no older than four, crying in the dark.
The guard pointed his gun at the child. “Back off, Bellini! Or the kid dies!”
Marco stood slowly, raising his empty hands. His chest heaved. Blood dripped from a cut on his cheek. “Let him go,” Marco said softly. “You work for money. I’ll double whatever Leo is paying you.”
The guard laughed nervously. “Leo promised me a territory. You can’t top that.”
I couldn’t just watch. I looked down at the burned pocket watch in my hands. The micro-SD card. The keys to the city. I stepped out of the hidden doorway.
“Hey!” I shouted. The guard looked at me. I held up the gold watch. “Is this what Leo promised you? The blackmail files?”
The guard’s eyes widened greedily.
“Catch,” I said. I threw it. But I didn’t throw it to the guard. I threw it out the massive, open bay window into the darkness of the estate grounds.
“No!” the guard screamed, lunging toward the window to watch a billion dollars’ worth of leverage disappear into the night.
Marco didn't waste the distraction. He crossed the room in two strides and struck the guard across the back of the neck with the pipe. The man crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
Silence fell over the library.
Marco dropped the pipe. He fell to his knees in front of the leather chair. His hands shook as he untied the ropes binding the little boy.
“Are you hurt?” Marco asked, his voice breaking. The boy sniffled, wiping his nose. “No. Are you my daddy? The man said my daddy was coming.”
Marco pulled the boy into a desperate, crushing hug. “Yes,” Marco wept, burying his face in the child’s hair. “I’m your daddy. I’ve got you.”
I stood by the window, my heart pounding, watching a ruthless mafia boss cry over a son he thought was dead.
Then, the library doors clicked open. The main lights flared on, blinding Marco.
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Leo stood in the doorway, holding a custom 1911 pistol. Behind him stood Vivian.
“Touching reunion,” Leo sneered. “But you just threw my retirement fund out the window, little maid.”
