Chapter 3 - THE PURSE AND THE POISON
The metallic click of the handguns echoing in the quiet ceremony room felt louder than a thunderclap.
Guests screamed. Chairs scraped violently against the marble floor as family members scrambled backward, diving behind the floral arrangements.
I grabbed Grace’s arm, hauling her downward behind the front-row chairs. Lily dropped to her knees beside us, her ivory veil tearing under the heel of her own shoe.
Luca didn’t dive.
He stood perfectly still, placing his body directly between the two armed guards and the spot where his wife and daughter crouched.
“Marco,” Luca said, his voice terrifyingly calm as he looked at his lead bodyguard. “You’ve eaten at my table. I paid for your mother’s surgery. What is this?”
Marco’s hands shook slightly holding the gun, but his eyes were hardened. “I’m sorry, Boss. The old man made a better offer. And he’s got the whole block locked down. It’s over.”
Daniel chuckled, casually checking the stolen silver watch on his wrist. “Listen to him, Luca. My father wants your territory. This wedding was just a polite way to merge the assets. But since your brat of a daughter couldn’t keep her mouth shut, we’ll do a hostile takeover.”
My mind raced. Daniel’s father. The old man. They were talking about the Rossetti family. The only syndicate in Chicago ruthless enough to challenge the Morettis.
“Emily,” Grace whispered beside me, grabbing my hand. Her skin was freezing. “Take Lily’s hand. If shooting starts, you crawl to the catering exit.”
“I’m not leaving you, Mrs. Moretti,” I whispered back, my voice shaking.
“Do as she says, Emily,” Lily sobbed.
Above us, Selena was panicking. She was still trapped near the altar, standing just a few feet from Luca.
“Daniel!” Selena cried out. “You promised me! I got you the watch! I planted the fake documents in Grace’s house like you asked! Let me go!”
She lunged toward her designer purse resting on a nearby pew.
“Don’t touch the bag, Selena,” Daniel barked.
But she was desperate. She grabbed the leather bag, her shaking hands fumbling with the gold clasp. As she yanked it open, a small rectangular piece of paper fluttered out, landing on the white carpet.
It wasn’t a document. It was a one-way Amtrak ticket to Montreal. Departing tonight.
Selena had never planned on staying with Luca. She had been playing him this entire year, draining his accounts, spying for the Rossettis, and planning her escape.
But as Selena reached her hand deep into the purse, Daniel’s eyes widened.
“Marco, stop her!” Daniel yelled.
Before the bodyguard could adjust his aim, Selena pulled her hand out. She wasn’t holding a gun. She was holding a small, heavy crystal perfume bottle.
With a wild shriek, she hurled it directly at Marco’s face.
It shattered against his jaw. Marco staggered backward, his gun firing blindly into the ceiling. Plaster rained down on the pews.
That single second of chaos was all Luca needed.
The mafia boss moved with a speed I couldn’t comprehend. He lunged forward, grabbing Marco’s wrist, twisting it until a sickening crack echoed through the room. The gun dropped. Luca caught it before it hit the floor, immediately swinging the barrel toward the second guard, firing twice into the man’s knee.
The second guard collapsed, screaming.
Daniel stumbled backward, his smug demeanor vanishing instantly. He turned to run out the heavy doors.
“Don’t move!” Luca roared, aiming the weapon at the groom’s back.
Daniel froze.
“Get up,” Luca ordered, his eyes never leaving Daniel. “Grace. Lily. Emily. Get up behind me.”
I pulled Grace up, keeping my body angled over hers. Lily stood on her other side. We huddled behind Luca’s broad shoulders.
“You can’t kill me, Luca,” Daniel sneered, though his voice was trembling. “My father has sixty men surrounding this church. You won’t make it to the parking lot.”
“We’ll see about that,” Luca said. He backed toward the side altar doors, keeping us shielded. “Emily. You know the kitchen layout. Lead the way.”
“Yes, sir,” I breathed.
We shuffled backward. But as we passed Selena, who was trembling on the floor amidst the broken perfume glass, Grace suddenly stopped.
She looked down at the woman who had ruined her marriage. The woman who had tried to frame her and force her daughter into a nightmare.
Selena looked up at Grace, tears streaming down her ruined makeup. “Grace… please.”
I fully expected Grace to spit on her. To leave her to Daniel’s mercy.
Instead, Grace reached down, grabbed the front of Selena’s silk dress, and hauled her to her feet.
“Move,” Grace snapped.
Selena stared at her in shock. “Why are you—”
“Because you know what evidence they planted in my house,” Grace said coldly. “And you’re going to help me find it.”
We burst through the side doors into the catering hallway. I took the lead, sprinting past abandoned trays of champagne and half-finished appetizers. The catering staff had already fled at the sound of gunfire.
“Left down this hall!” I shouted. “There’s a service elevator that goes to the underground delivery bay!”
We ran. Lily was tripping over her heavy wedding dress, sobbing. Luca guarded the rear, walking backward with the gun raised.
We reached the heavy metal doors of the service elevator. I frantically mashed the down button.
“Come on, come on,” I prayed.
The digital floor indicator blinked. It was coming up.
Suddenly, Grace let out a sharp gasp. She let go of Selena and grabbed her own stomach, staggering against the cinderblock wall.
“Mom!” Lily shrieked.
I turned in horror.
A dark red stain was rapidly blooming across the pale blue fabric of Grace’s dress.
During the chaos in the chapel, in the rain of broken glass and wild gunfire, Grace had been hit. And she hadn’t said a single word.
The elevator doors chimed and slid open.
But the elevator wasn’t empty. Standing inside were three men in tactical gear, carrying assault rifles.
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And the man standing in the center, looking directly at me, was my older brother.
TITLE: THE BLOOD ON HER HANDS
