Chapter 9 - The Final TrapMarisol took the stairs three at a time, her bare feet slipping on the polished wood. Her breath came in ragged, burning gasps.
The nursery. I have to get to the nursery.
She slammed her shoulder against the nursery door, bursting inside. The room was pitch black, lit only by the faint silver glow of the moon filtering through the high bay windows.
"Valentina!" Marisol cried out, rushing toward the crib.
Empty.
The crib was empty. The blanket was tossed aside.
A cold wave of absolute terror washed over her soul, freezing the blood in her veins.
"Looking for someone?"
A cold, smooth voice echoed from the shadows near the walk-in closet.
Marisol spun around. Standing by the window, holding a terrified, wide-eyed Valentina in one arm, was a figure stepping out of the darkness.
It wasn't a hired assassin.
It was Paulina.
Her hair was messy, her red power suit torn at the shoulder, and a manic, unhinged gleam burned in her eyes. In her free hand, she held a heavy, customized revolver pointed directly at Marisol’s chest.
"Paulina..." Marisol breathed, her hands raised defensively. "Let the child go. She has nothing to do with this. Take me, do whatever you want to me, but please... leave Valentina alone."
Paulina let out a shrill, hysterical laugh.
"Leave her alone? After your little bastard brat and her pathetic mother destroyed my entire family? My father is in a federal prison! My name is a joke! I lost everything!" Paulina shrieked, pressing the cold barrel of the gun against Valentina’s temple.
Valentina finally began to cry—a thin, terrified wail that broke Marisol’s heart into a million irreparable pieces.
"Please, Paulina... don't hurt her. I'll beg on my knees. I'll leave the country tonight. You can have the house, you can have Diego..."
"It's too late for deals, maid," Paulina snarled, her finger tightening on the trigger. "We are all going to burn together."
Before Paulina could pull the trigger, the nursery door flew off its hinges with a deafening crash.
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Diego stood in the doorway, bleeding from a deep gash on his forehead, his chest heaving, his gun aimed dead center at Paulina’s chest.
"Drop the weapon, Paulina," Diego growled, his voice a lethal whisper that promised absolute annihilation. "Or I swear to God, you won't live to draw another breath."
