Chapter 8 - THE EMPTY CHAMBER
The thug holding the envelope looked at Vincent. The absolute betrayal in his eyes was heavier than any weapon.
“One ticket, Vince?” the thug asked, his voice low and dangerous.
Vincent swallowed hard, his eyes darting frantically between his men, Leo, and the open door. “It’s a mistake. The travel agent booked it wrong. I can buy you both a dozen tickets once we’re clear!”
“He was going to lock you in this room,” Leo said smoothly, stepping fully into the light. “The red ledger requires a dual-verification code to transfer the funds. He needed you to hold the estate while he initiated the transfer from the tarmac. Once the money cleared, he was going to trigger the silent alarm himself. The police would find you holding the bag.”
The second thug slowly lowered his weapon, stepping away from Vincent.
“You’re dead, Vince,” the first thug spat, dropping the envelope on the floor and walking out the door. The second man followed without a word.
They weren’t switching sides. They were simply walking away, leaving Vincent to his fate.
Vincent was entirely alone.
His hand trembled violently against Clara’s head. His breathing was ragged, panicked. He was a cornered animal realizing the trap had finally snapped shut.
“Let her go, Vincent,” Leo said, his voice losing its calm veneer, replaced by a dark, lethal edge.
“No!” Vincent shouted, dragging Clara backward toward the balcony doors. “I’ll kill her! I swear to God, Leo, I’ll blow her brains out if you take one step closer!”
“You’ve been skimming off the waterfront contracts for three years,” Leo continued, walking forward slowly, methodically closing the distance. “I knew about it. I let it happen.”
Vincent stopped dragging Clara. Confusion pierced through his panic. “You... you knew?”
“I knew why you were doing it, too,” Leo said softly. “You owe the Marcone family four million dollars in gambling debts. You thought you were hiding it, playing the big shot at their underground tables. But Marcone works for me. He reported every dollar you lost.”
Vincent’s face drained of all color.
“You’re not a mastermind, Vincent,” Leo said, stopping ten feet away. “You’re an addict in a nice suit. I let you skim to see how far you’d go. I was going to quietly exile you tomorrow. But then you touched her.”
Leo’s eyes flicked to Clara’s broken wrist. The purple, swollen flesh visible above the cast.
“You touched someone under my protection,” Leo growled, his voice vibrating with absolute fury. “You threatened a child.”
Vincent let out a hysterical, desperate laugh. “She’s a maid, Leo! A nobody! And you’re going to die for her!”
He shoved Clara violently to the floor.
Vincent aimed his pistol directly at Leo’s chest and pulled the trigger.
Click.
The sound echoed through the silent office.
Vincent froze. His eyes widened in sheer terror. He pulled the trigger again.
Click. Click. Click.
The chamber was entirely empty.
Vincent stared at the gun in disbelief. “How...”
“Daniel intercepted your thugs in the armory an hour ago,” Leo said softly. “He swapped the magazines. You’ve been holding an empty gun since you walked up those stairs.”
Vincent dropped the gun. It clattered uselessly against the hardwood floor. He fell to his knees, raising his hands in a pathetic gesture of surrender.
“Leo, please,” Vincent begged, tears streaming down his face, the arrogant facade completely obliterated. “We’ve known each other for fifteen years. I was desperate. The Marcones were going to kill me. Please.”
Leo didn’t say a word.
He walked past Vincent, ignoring the sobbing man completely.
Leo knelt beside Clara. He carefully avoided her broken wrist, sliding his arms around her waist and helping her to her feet. He looked at her throat, where red marks from Vincent’s fingers were already beginning to bruise.
“Are you hurt?” Leo asked, his voice dropping to a gentle, grounding murmur.
Clara shook her head, tears of pure relief spilling over her cheeks. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
Leo exhaled, pulling her gently against his chest, wrapping his arms around her in a fiercely protective embrace. Clara buried her face in his shoulder, finally letting go of the terror she had held onto for hours.
Behind them, heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway.
Daniel walked into the room, leaning on a cane, his side heavily bandaged. Behind him were three heavily armed enforcers from the Castillion family.
“Take him,” Leo ordered without looking back.
May you like
The enforcers hauled Vincent to his feet. He screamed, thrashing wildly, but they dragged him out of the office. He wouldn’t be killed. That was too easy. He was being handed over to the Marcone family to work off his debt in the darkest, deepest mines they owned.
The nightmare was finally over.
