Chapter 11 - A Snake in the Family
The barrel of the gold pistol pressed hard against my temple.
Adrien dragged me backward down the narrow service corridor.
Behind us, the safehouse erupted in full-scale tactical warfare.
Flashbangs shook the walls.
Automatic gunfire cracked in sharp, controlled bursts as the FBI breached the
main living area.
"Move your feet, Lena!" Adrien spat, his arm choking off my airway.
His composure was completely shattered.
His eyes were wild, dilated with panic and cocaine.
"Drop the gun, Adrien!" I gasped, clawing at his forearm.
"The FBI is here! It’s over!"
"It’s not over until I have that ledger!" he snarled.
He kicked open a heavy reinforced steel fire door at the end of the hall.
The wind hit us like a physical blow.
We were outside on the cliff's edge.
A narrow, steep flight of wooden stairs led down the rocky bluff to the private
boat slip on Lake Michigan.
Below, black waves crashed violently against the jagged boulders.
Rain stung my eyes.
Adrien forced me down the slippery wooden stairs.
Every step was agony on my bare, scraped feet.
Halfway down the stairs, a heavy footstep sounded above us.
Adrien spun around, dragging me in front of him like a human shield.
He raised his gold pistol toward the top of the staircase.
Victor stood at the top of the bluff.
He had tied a black tourniquet around his bleeding shoulder.
His face was ghostly pale, his dark eyes hollowed by blood loss, but he stood
completely upright.
In his right hand, he held the Benelli shotgun, barrel pointed at the wooden
deck.
Behind him, two FBI tactical agents moved to flank him, but Victor held up a
bloody hand, stopping them.
"Stand down," Victor ordered the agents.
His voice carried over the roar of the surf.
"He’s my brother."
Adrien let out a manic, high-pitched laugh that was swallowed by the storm.
"Look at the hero! You dragged the feds here, didn't you, Vic? You sold out the
Duca family to save your own pathetic skin!"
"I didn't sell out the family, Adrien," Victor said, taking one slow, steady
step down the wet wooden stairs.
"I saved what was left of it. Antonio is already in federal custody. They raided
the Lincoln Park mansion twenty minutes ago."
Adrien’s jaw dropped.
The smug arrogance evaporated from his face, replaced by naked terror.
"Father? In custody? You lie!"
"The feds have the bank records. They have the wire transfers from the judge's
hit," Victor continued, his voice calm, cold, and absolute.
"And they have your fingerprints on the Maserati’s airbag."
Victor took another step down.
"It’s over, Adrien. Let Lena go."
"No!" Adrien screamed, digging the gun barrel deeper into my skin.
Pain radiated across my skull.
"If I let her go, I spend the rest of my life in ADX Florence! She knows where
the forty million is! She’s my ticket to South America!"
"There is no forty million, Adrien," I choked out, tears mixing with the
freezing rain on my face.
"My father died penniless! If there was money, my mother wouldn't have died in a
county hospice bed with unpaid medical bills!"
Adrien blinked, momentarily stunned by my words.
In that split second of hesitation, his grip on my neck loosened by an inch.
"Now, Lena!" Victor roared.
Instinct took over.
I drove my elbow backward with every ounce of strength I had left, smashing it
directly into Adrien’s broken nose.
A sickening crunch echoed above the roar of the waves.
Adrien shrieked in agony, his head snapping back.
His finger spasmed on the trigger.
BANG!
The bullet tore harmlessly through the stormy sky.
I dropped to my knees on the wet wooden stairs, rolling toward the safety of the
cliff face.
Adrien stumbled backward, clutching his shattered face, blood pouring through
his fingers.
Through his tears of pain, he saw Victor closing the distance.
Adrien raised his weapon, aiming wildly at Victor's chest.
"Die, you bastard!"
BOOM!
Victor fired the shotgun.
He didn't aim for Adrien’s heart.
He aimed for his brother’s right hand.
The heavy 12-gauge slug pulverized the gold-plated pistol, shattering Adrien’s
fingers into bloody fragments.
The weapon flew over the wooden railing, disappearing into the raging black
water below.
Adrien collapsed against the railing, clutching his mangled hand, sobbing like a
terrified child.
"Victor... please... we're brothers... please don't kill me..."
Victor stood over him.
The rain washed the blood from his scarred chest.
He racked the shotgun slide, ejecting a steaming red shell casing onto the
wooden deck.
He raised the barrel, placing the cold steel directly beneath Adrien’s chin.
"You killed Claire," Victor whispered, his voice shaking with four years of
buried rage.
"You framed me for murder. You terrorized an innocent woman."
Adrien squeezed his eyes shut, shaking violently.
"Please, Vic... please..."
For three agonizing seconds, the world stopped.
I held my breath, watching Victor’s finger tighten against the trigger.
He had every reason in the world to end his brother’s life right there on the
rocks.
I looked at Victor.
"Victor," I called out softly over the wind.
"Don't. Don't let him turn you into a monster."
Victor’s eyes flicked to me.
He saw the fear, not of him, but for him.
Slowly, deliberately, Victor lowered the weapon.
He reached down with his uninjured left hand, grabbed Adrien by the lapels of
his expensive coat, and hoisted him off his feet.
Victor dragged his sobbing brother up the stairs, tossing him onto the deck at
the feet of the FBI agents.
"Take the trash out," Victor said coldly.
The agents swarmed Adrien, pinning him to the deck and ratcheting zip-ties
around his bloody wrists.
Victor didn't watch them drag Adrien away.
He turned back toward the stairs.
His knees buckled.
The shotgun clattered to the deck.
Victor collapsed onto the wet wood, his breathing shallow, his strength finally
May you like
failing.
"Victor!" I cried, scrambling up the stairs toward him.
