Chapter 7 - THE PRICE OF TWENTY YEARS
Lorenzo smiled, leaning heavily on his silver-tipped cane, using Isabella as a human shield.
"Did you really think a double-agent could outsmart me, Santiago?" Lorenzo chuckled, pressing the barrel of the gun harder into Isabella's back. "Matteo played his part well, but I’ve been running the Black Crown since our father was alive. I own the skies. My jet landed two hours before yours."
I froze. My gun was raised, but I couldn't risk the shot.
I looked at Isabella. After twenty years, she was standing five feet away from me. Her face bore the subtle lines of time and unimaginable stress, but her eyes—those sharp, brilliant eyes—were exactly the same.
But she wasn't looking at me with love.
She was looking at me with pure, unadulterated fury.
"Isabella," I whispered, lowering my weapon slightly. "I'm here."
"I know you're here, Santiago," Isabella said, her voice dripping with ice. "I’ve spent twenty years waiting for the chance to watch you burn for what you did."
The words struck me like physical blows.
"What I did?" I asked, desperation bleeding into my voice. "I tore the world apart looking for you! I thought you were dead!"
"Don't lie to me!" Isabella screamed, the elegant facade finally cracking. "You signed the order! You authorized the hit on me because the syndicate bosses demanded you cut all ties to civilians before you took the throne!"
"I never signed an order!" I roared back.
"She has the documents, little brother," Lorenzo taunted, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Signed in your own blood. Your beautiful, paranoid wife has spent two decades dismantling your empire from the shadows because she thought she was taking revenge."
Answer one, open two.
Isabella hadn't been fighting Lorenzo. She had been fighting me.
"Lorenzo forged the documents," I realized aloud, the sickening truth washing over the marble foyer.
"Of course I did," Lorenzo laughed. "I needed you focused on mourning, so you would be ruthless enough to build the empire. And I needed her focused on revenge, so she would help me funnel your money into the Black Crown. I played you both."
Isabella’s breath hitched. She looked at Lorenzo over her shoulder, the horrifying realization dawning on her.
She had sacrificed twenty years of her life, abandoned her daughter, and weaponized her son, all to destroy the man she thought had betrayed her. And the real traitor had been standing beside her the entire time.
"Mom," Lucia said softly, stepping forward from the shadows.
Isabella’s eyes darted to the young woman.
The fury in her eyes instantly dissolved into absolute heartbreak.
"Lucia?" Isabella choked out, tears spilling over her cheeks. "My beautiful girl."
"She brought you the locket," Lorenzo sneered, noticing the silver chain around Lucia’s neck. "How touching. A family reunited just in time to die."
Lorenzo reached into his pocket with his free hand.
He didn't pull out another gun.
He pulled out a heavy, black detonator switch.
"The villa is wired with enough C4 to level this entire hillside," Lorenzo stated calmly. "Matteo, drop your weapon. Santiago, drop yours. Kick them across the floor. Or I blow us all to hell right now."
Matteo looked at me. He was a trained killer, but this was his mother. He slowly lowered his gun and kicked it across the marble.
I did the same.
Lorenzo laughed victoriously. "Excellent. Now, kick the velvet coat over here, Santiago. I know the Swiss bank ledgers are hidden in the lining."
I bent down and picked up the crimson coat I had carried from the shipping yard.
But as I lifted it, I caught Isabella’s eye.
She wasn't looking at the coat. She was looking at the detonator in Lorenzo’s hand.
And then, she gave me a microscopic, almost imperceptible nod.
Reversal.
Isabella hadn't been a passive prisoner for the last two hours. She had been waiting for Lorenzo to monologue.
"You want the coat, Lorenzo?" I asked, gripping the heavy velvet fabric.
I hurled the coat directly at his face.
The heavy fabric blinded him for a fraction of a second.
It was all Isabella needed.
She didn't try to disarm him. She didn't try to run.
Isabella threw her entire body weight backward, slamming her head brutally into Lorenzo’s broken nose.
Lorenzo screamed in agony, stumbling backward. The gun discharged wildly, a bullet shattering the grand chandelier above us.
May you like
"Matteo, get the girls out!" I roared, lunging forward.
I tackled my brother to the marble floor just as he pressed the button on the black detonator.
