Chapter 6 - The Spider’s WebThe realization hit Isabella like a physical blow. Her knees buckled slightly, and for a split second, her focus drifted away from little Emma.
That split second was all Marco needed.
Moving with the speed and precision of a striking cobra, Marco pulled a heavy combat knife from his tactical belt and threw it with pinpoint accuracy.
Thwack.
The blade buried itself deep into the wooden archway directly through the sleeve of Isabella’s dress, pinning her arm to the post and jarring the ceramic pistol from her grip. It clattered uselessly onto the cobblestones.
"Ahhh!" Isabella screamed, thrashing wildly as she tried to pull her arm free from the pin-sharp blade.
I lunged forward, scooping little Emma up into my arms and handing her straight to her sobbing mother, who scrambled forward to drag her child away from the carnage.
"Take them inside the mansion," I ordered two guards. "Lock the reinforced doors and don't let anyone out."
Once Emma and Sophia were safe, I turned back to the center of the courtyard. The wedding of the century had turned into an execution ground.
Julian was on his knees now, sobbing openly as Vance pressed the barrel of an assault rifle against the back of his neck.
"Alessandro, please!" Julian wailed, pressing his forehead into the dirt. "We're family! We share blood! You can't kill your own blood!"
"My father thought the same thing twenty-five years ago when he sat down for dinner with your father and my mother," I said, my voice echoing off the stone walls.
I walked over to where my mother sat frozen in her chair. She didn't look away; she met my gaze with the stoic, hardened resolve of a woman who knew her time had run out.
"And you, Mother?" I asked quietly. "Do you have any last words before I strip you of every title, every asset, and send you to the quietest monastery in the Swiss Alps where no one will ever hear your name again?"
Elena closed her eyes, a bitter, broken smile touching her lips. "Do it, Alessandro. But remember one thing... a throne built on blood is never lonely at the top. It's just cold."
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"Then it's a good thing I run hot," I replied without a trace of emotion.
"Marco. Take her away. Secure the estate, audit every account, and prepare the motorcade. We have a syndicate meeting in Manhattan tonight, and I need to remind the other families who actually owns New York."
