Chapter 10 - The Russo Connection|
Flashbang grenades detonated inside the penthouse hallway, blinding light and concussive sound filling the room.
Carmine’s bodyguards barely had time to reach for their shoulder holsters before four laser dots danced across their chests. Sharp, suppressed gunshots echoed through the darkness—thwip, thwip, thwip.
The three guards collapsed onto the marble floor without firing a single round.
The bank vice president let out a pathetic shriek, dropping his briefcase and diving beneath the glass coffee table.
Silence returned to the room, heavy and terrifying, punctuated only by the distant hum of wind against the high glass windows.
A beam of light from a tactical flashlight swept across the floor, illuminating the pooling blood of the guards, before resting directly on Isabella’s pale, trembling face.
Footsteps approached from the hallway. Slow, deliberate, and perfectly measured.
Dante Moretti stepped into the penthouse, flanked by six tactical operators clad in black body armor. He wore his dark charcoal suit, his hands tucked casually into his trouser pockets.
Carmine Russo stumbled backward, clutching the bronze seal tightly against his chest.
“Dante...” Carmine choked out, his voice cracking with age and sudden terror. “How... how did you find this place?”
Dante stopped ten feet away. He didn't look at Carmine. His gray eyes rested entirely on Isabella, who stood frozen against the marble fireplace, her mouth open in absolute horror.
“You asked me at breakfast if I was exhausted, Isabella,” Dante said softly, his voice carrying clearly through the silent room. “I told you state affairs require constant vigilance.”
Isabella took a shaky step back, her hands trembling violently against her emerald gown.
“Dante... please,” she stammered, her voice dropping back into her sweet, innocent persona. “They forced me! My father threatened to kill me if I didn't steal it from you! You know I love you!”
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Dante looked at her with an expression of profound, unbothered detachment.
“You left a three-millimeter gap on the green felt, Isabella,” Dante said quietly. “And a three-year-old child taught me everything I needed to know about your loyalty.”
