Chapter 18 - The Final Bluff
I looked at Morosco, my finger resting lightly against the trigger. Every instinct in my body screamed to put a bullet between his eyes right here and now. But I knew he wasn't bluffing about the second wave. Hale Manor was vast, and the sub-vault was strong, but fire and poison gas could find their way through the ventilation shafts if we were trapped down there too long.
"Thirty percent of the shipping lanes," I said slowly, lowering my weapon by an inch. "That's your price to walk away?"
"That's the opening offer," Morosco grinned, his eyes gleaming with greedy triumph. "Sign the transfer papers, Julian. Right here, right now."
He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a leather folder, tossing it onto the blood-stained coffee table between us.
I walked forward slowly, my boots crunching on broken glass. I picked up the folder, flipped it open, and pretended to scan the legal binding clauses.
"You always were a smart businessman, Julian," Morosco chuckled, watching me closely. "You know when to fold."
"I do," I murmured.
Then I slammed the folder shut, pivoted on my heel, and fired three rounds not at Morosco, but directly into the overhead crystal chandelier.
CRASH.
The massive, multi-ton chandelier fractured from its reinforced ceiling mount and plummeted straight down, burying Morosco’s two remaining bodyguards beneath a mountain of jagged crystal and heavy iron framework.
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Before Morosco could react, I lunged across the coffee table, tackled him to the floor, and pressed the heavy barrel of my gun right between his eyes.
"You were saying about folding, Salvatore?" I whispered.
