Chapter 12 - SECRETS IN THE SAFEHOUSE
Morena’s warehouse smelled of salt water, diesel, and rust.
Rows of stacked shipping containers loomed in the dim lighting.
Elena Moretti sat tied to a wooden chair in the center of the room.
Her face was pale, but her eyes blazed with defiance.
“Who are you?” Elena demanded as Clara walked in.
“I’m Clara Vance,” she replied, keeping her distance from Morena’s armed guards.
Morena clapped his hands slowly.
“Bravo,” Morena purred.
“The little waitress delivers the prize herself.”
“Where is Lorenzo?”
“Fighting for his life,” Morena laughed.
“Now, hand over the key, Miss Vance.”
Clara raised the manila envelope.
“Let Elena go first.”
“You don't negotiate with me,” Morena snarled, drawing a pistol.
Before Morena could step forward, the skylight above shattered inward.
A black-clad figure dropped silently onto the concrete floor.
Lorenzo Moretti.
Bleeding from his shoulder, his eyes fixed purely on Morena.
“Drop the gun, Viktor,” Lorenzo’s voice echoed like thunder.
May you like
Morena spun around, pressing his pistol against Elena’s temple.
“One step closer, Lorenzo, and your sister dies right here!”
