Chapter 8 - The Betrayal WithinThey collapsed onto the floor of the private elevator as the heavy steel doors slammed shut, sealing them off from the roaring inferno below. The car surged upward, rushing toward the penthouse suite.
Emma was coughing, her face smeared with soot, her hair wild and tangled. She looked over at Luca, who had a bleeding cut across his forehead and a jagged tear in his expensive suit jacket.
"Well," Emma panted, a hysterical laugh bubbling up in her chest. "That's one way to fix a car."
Luca chuckled, leaning his head back against the wood-paneled wall. He reached out, gently wiping a streak of black soot from her cheek. "I’m beginning to think you’re bad for my health, Ms. Carter."
"You started it by breaking down on my route," she shot back, though her voice lacked any real bite.
The elevator dinged softly, chiming Penthouse.
The doors slid open—
And stopped halfway.
Standing in the private foyer, holding a custom-fitted sniper rifle pointed directly at the elevator doors, was Enzo Marchetti.
Luca froze. The color drained from his face completely.
"Enzo?" Luca’s voice was dangerously quiet. "What are you doing?"
Enzo didn't lower the rifle. His face, usually carved from stone, twisted into a mask of bitter, burning resentment.
"I'm taking over, boss," Enzo said coldly. "Rostova offered me the Chicago docks and fifty million offshore. All I had to do was leave the front gates unlocked, hand over the flash drive, and make sure you and your little girlfriend didn't make it out of the basement."
Elena stepped out from behind Enzo, her hands bound tightly behind her back with industrial zip-ties, a fresh bruise blooming across her cheekbone.
"He sold us out, Luca," Elena spat, blood dripping from her lip. "The moment the convoy breached the gates. He was on the radio with Rostova."
Luca slowly stepped out of the elevator, placing himself directly between the barrel of Enzo’s rifle and Emma.
"You were my brother, Enzo," Luca said, his voice dropping into a register so cold it felt like liquid nitrogen. "I pulled you out of the gutter in Little Italy. I gave you half my empire."
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"You gave me orders!" Enzo shouted, his voice cracking with years of suppressed envy. "You treated me like a glorified chauffeur while you played CEO and mob boss combined! I built this empire with my blood, Luca. You just inherited the crown."
Enzo’s finger tightened on the trigger. "Say goodbye, boss."
