Chapter 2 - The Red Velvet TrapThe deafening roar of a silenced sniper rifle tore through the quiet night, followed instantly by the sharp crunch of glass.
Sal rolled over, covering my body completely with his own. The heavy weight of his chest pressed against mine, his arm wrapped tightly around the back of my head, shielding me from flying debris. The smell of his expensive sandalwood cologne mixed with the metallic tang of gunpowder and rain.
"Stay down!" he hissed into my ear.
Another bullet punched a hole through my drywall, shattering my framed college diploma into dust.
"They were supposed to give me until dawn," Sal growled under his breath, reaching beneath his dark overcoat. When his hand emerged, it held a sleek, black semi-automatic pistol.
I clung to his lapels, my entire body shaking uncontrollably. "Sal! Who is doing this?!"
"Don Vincenzo," Sal said, his voice terrifyingly calm now. "My father's former underboss. The man who orchestrated the hit fifteen years ago. He must have realized I left the gala early."
"What do we do?!"
"We move. Now."
Sal grabbed my arm, pulling me up into a low crouch. Keeping us below the window line, he dragged me down the short hallway toward the fire escape. But as we reached the back exit, the heavy steel door was suddenly kicked open from the outside.
A man in a tactical mask stepped into the narrow hall, raising an automatic rifle.
Without hesitation, Sal fired three rapid shots. The deafening POP-POP-POP echoed through the narrow space. The hitman slumped back against the railing and collapsed down the metal stairs.
I let out a blood-curdling scream, covering my mouth with both hands. I had worked in corporate finance; I had never seen a man killed right in front of me.
Sal grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward the front exit of the building instead. "Don't look at him, Elena! Look at me! Keep your eyes on me!"
We took the stairs three at a time, descending into the dark, damp basement of my apartment complex. My heart was beating so hard it felt like it would shatter my ribs. Every shadow looked like an assassin; every squeak of the old pipes sounded like a gunshot.
"Where are we going?" I panted, my slippers slipping on the wet concrete.
"My car is parked two blocks over," Sal said, scanning the dark basement room with his weapon raised. "If we reach the garage, we have a chance. My private estate in Upstate New York is fortified. They can't breach it."
We burst through the basement's heavy wooden storm doors and into the freezing alleyway. Rain slammed against my face, instantly soaking my pajamas.
Suddenly, floodlights blinded us from both ends of the alley.
Two dark SUVs idling at the street corners switched on their high beams. The heavy click of dozens of weapons being cocked filled the night air.
From the shadows of the lead SUV, a tall man in a bespoke navy suit stepped out, holding an umbrella. He was in his late sixties, with silver hair, a scarred jawline, and a cold, predatory smile.
"Salvatore," the old man drawled, his voice carrying over the sound of the falling rain. "You always had your father's taste for dramatic exits. But running to a Queens tenement for a girl? That's disappointing."
Sal stepped in front of me, shielding my body with his. He raised his pistol, aiming it directly at the old man's chest.
"Vincenzo," Sal spat, his eyes blazing with pure hatred. "You should have stayed in Manhattan."
"And miss the family reunion?" Don Vincenzo chuckled softly. "Put the gun down, boy. You're outnumbered twenty to one. Hand over the ledger you stole tonight, and maybe—just maybe—I'll let your pretty little secretary live as a house maid."
Sal leaned back slightly, whispering to me without breaking eye contact with Vincenzo. "Elena... in three seconds, I'm dropping a smoke grenade. When I tell you to run, sprint to the silver sedan on the left. Don't look back."
"Sal, no—"
"I won't let them touch you," he swore, his voice fierce and desperate. "I swore I'd protect you, even if it costs me everything."
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He pulled something small from his belt, pulled the pin with his teeth, and dropped it to the wet pavement.
A blinding flash of white smoke erupted, engulfing the alley in thick, opaque fog.
