Chapter 11 - The Confrontation in the Dark
A woman stepped out from the shadows of the hallway. She looked to be in her late fifties, dressed in an immaculate cashmere coat, silver hair pinned back with severe elegance. Her eyes—dark, sharp, and entirely devoid of warmth—were locked onto Nico.
“Aunt Elena,” Nico said, his voice terrifyingly calm as he raised the weapon, leveling it squarely at her chest. “The family was told you died of a fever in Zurich in 1994.”
Elena smiled, unbothered by the barrel of the gun. She took a slow sip from a crystal glass of red wine. “Death is such a convenient administrative tool when you want to watch your brother’s empire tear itself apart from the inside. Salvatore was a greedy fool. He thought he was running the syndicate. But every single dollar he stole was funneled directly into my accounts.”
“You poisoned me,” Nico said, each word dropping like a lead weight. “You rigged the brakes on my car eight months ago.”
“I simply gave nature a little push,” Elena replied, her smile fading into a mask of bitter hatred. “Your father stole my birthright, Nico. He handed the shipping lines to a son who thought he was invincible. So I made sure you stayed trapped in that chair, watching everyone you trusted tear your legacy apart piece by piece.”
Adeline didn't hesitate. While Elena was focused entirely on Nico, Adeline moved quietly along the wall toward the fuse box she had spotted near the entryway.
“You underestimated one thing, Elena,” Adeline said clearly, her hand resting on the heavy metal breaker switch.
Elena snapped her gaze toward her. “And what is that, nurse? A hired hand thinks she has a voice in Alfieri business?”
“I don’t work for the business,” Adeline replied, her eyes flashing. “I work for the man.”
She threw the breaker switch down with all her might.
May you like
Blackout.
The brass lamp flickered and died, plunging the cabin into absolute, pitch-black darkness.
