Chapter 6 - THE BETRAYAL OF THE MERCENARYJulian’s face turned an ugly shade of purple. “You double-crossing piece of trash!” he screamed, shifting his aim from me to Marco.
Before Julian could pull the trigger, I lunged forward across the slick tile floor, tackling him hard around the waist. We crashed into the stainless-steel prep table, sending silverware and cutting boards flying in every direction.
Bang!
A deafening gunshot echoed through the confined kitchen, the bullet punching a massive hole straight through the ceiling tiles.
Julian struggled wildly, thrashing beneath me, trying to bring the pistol back around to my head. I drove my fist straight into his jaw with every ounce of fury I had pent up inside me. His head bounced off the tile floor with a dull thud, and his eyes rolled back as the pistol slipped from his limp fingers.
Across the room, the sound of shattered glass rang out.
I whipped my head around. Vivienne had shoved Rosie aside—sending the little girl tumbling safely into a pile of flour sacks—and bolted through the open service exit into the pouring rain, clutching the stolen platinum ring like a lifeline.
“Marco! Don't let her reach the helipad!” I roared, scrambling to my feet.
Marco didn’t hesitate. He vaulted over Julian’s unconscious body and sprinted out into the dark, rainy night after her.
I scooped Rosie up into my arms, holding her tight against my chest as she sobbed softly into my shoulder. “You’re safe, sweetie. I’ve got you. It’s over.”
I carried her out of the blood-stained kitchen and back into the grand hallway, where the thirty-two terrified guests were still peering out from the parlor doors like ghosts in a haunted house.
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“Someone call an ambulance and the state police,” I commanded my cousin Charles, who stood trembling near the coat rack. “Tell them Greystone Manor has multiple suspects in custody for corporate espionage and homicide.”
Charles nodded furiously, scrambling for his phone.
