Chapter 8 - FIVE HUNDRED WITNESSESPanic moved faster than gunfire.
Guests dropped beneath tables.
Security men reached inside jackets.
Women screamed.
Politicians crawled behind floral arrangements worth more than most cars.
Adrian grabbed Emily and pulled her behind the altar as chandelier glass rained around them.
“What part of stay safe did you misunderstand?”
“All of it.”
“You could have been killed.”
“So could you.”
“That is different.”
“How?”
“I’m accustomed to it.”
Emily stared.
“That might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.”
Another shot hit the marble column.
Adrian covered her with his body.
“Still feel like arguing?”
“Yes.”
Despite himself, he almost smiled.
Vittorio’s voice came through ballroom speakers.
“Everyone remain calm.”
Nobody remained calm.
Armed men appeared along the balconies.
“Your phones will not work. Exterior doors are secured. This situation concerns my family.”
A senator shouted, “Are you insane?”
Vittorio looked down.
“Senator Chase.”
The man froze.
“I have three videos involving you and a hotel suite in Boston. Sit down.”
The senator sat.
Silence spread.
Vittorio smiled.
“Much better.”
Adrian looked toward Michael near the north wall.
Michael nodded once.
The backdoor was open.
Daniel’s upload continued.
Thirty-eight percent.
Beneath the ballroom, Daniel stared at his laptop.
Then the signal vanished.
“No.”
He typed rapidly.
Someone was blocking him.
Forty-one percent.
Stopped.
He heard footsteps inside the tunnel.
Daniel closed the laptop and moved.
Above, Vittorio descended the staircase.
Guests stared at a dead man walking.
“Seven years ago,” he announced, “the newspapers told you Vittorio Moretti died.”
He stopped in the center of the floor.
“They were wrong.”
Adrian stood behind the altar.
“You always did enjoy attention.”
Heads turned.
Vittorio smiled.
“My son.”
“Father.”
Whispers erupted.
Vittorio opened his arms.
“Come here.”
“No.”
“Adrian.”
“You shot at my bride.”
Emily muttered, “Fake bride.”
“Not helping.”
Vittorio’s expression hardened.
“Bring him.”
Four men approached.
Adrian raised his hands slightly.
“Gentlemen.”
The first guard reached him.
Adrian struck.
One elbow.
One knee.
The man collapsed.
Adrian took his gun.
Chaos exploded.
Michael drew his weapon and fired at the balcony guards.
Guests screamed again.
Emily grabbed the microphone stand and smashed it into a man rushing from the side.
Adrian looked at her.
“Where did you learn that?”
“Denver.”
“That explains nothing.”
“No time.”
They ran.
In the tunnel, Daniel fought two men in darkness.
The first knife cut his forearm.
Daniel drove him into the wall.
The second punched his injured shoulder.
Pain flashed white.
Daniel fell.
The man lifted his pistol.
A shotgun blast thundered.
The attacker dropped.
Dorothy stood behind him.
Daniel stared.
“You were supposed to stay with Lucy.”
“She is with twelve armed men.”
Dorothy reloaded.
“And I am tired of everyone assuming old women are decorative.”
Daniel laughed breathlessly.
They reached the network panel.
“Upload froze.”
Dorothy looked at wires.
“Can you fix it?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Longer if you ask questions.”
She aimed the shotgun down the tunnel.
“I’ll be quiet.”
Back upstairs, Emily found Vanessa.
The real Vanessa.
She had escaped Dorothy’s basement hours earlier.
Nobody knew how.
She entered the ballroom through the rose-garden doors wearing a black coat over her wedding underdress.
She pointed a gun directly at Emily.
“You stole my dress.”
Emily looked at the gown.
“Technically Dorothy did.”
Vanessa fired.
Emily ducked.
The bullet struck a vase.
Adrian turned.
Vanessa fired again.
Michael shoved Adrian aside.
The bullet hit Michael in the chest.
He fell.
“Michael!”
Adrian dropped beside him.
Blood spread across the tuxedo shirt.
Michael struggled to breathe.
“Finish it.”
Adrian pressed his hand against the wound.
“Stay awake.”
Michael laughed weakly.
“Bossy bastard.”
Adrian’s face tightened.
Vanessa aimed again.
Emily tackled her.
They hit the floor.
Vanessa clawed at the bridal veil.
“You ruined everything!”
“You tried to murder me!”
“I should have finished it!”
Emily punched her.
Vanessa rolled on top.
“You think Adrian wants a housekeeper?”
Emily shoved her away.
“You think I care?”
“Yes!”
Vanessa grabbed a broken piece of glass.
Emily froze.
Vanessa smiled.
“Because you look at him the way I spent six years trying to make him look at me.”
She lunged.
A tiny voice shouted from the balcony.
“Stop hurting my mommy!”
Everyone looked up.
Lucy stood beside a Moretti guard.
She had escaped the safe room.
Emily’s heart stopped.
“Lucy!”
Vanessa turned the glass toward the child.
That was her mistake.
Emily struck her with everything she had.
Vanessa collapsed.
Adrian immediately shouted:
“Get Lucy out!”
The guard grabbed the child.
Vittorio raised his weapon toward them.
Adrian saw it.
Time slowed.
His father was pointing a gun at a three-year-old girl.
Something in Adrian disappeared.
He fired.
The bullet struck Vittorio’s hand.
The gun fell.
Adrian crossed the ballroom like a storm.
Vittorio stumbled backward.
Adrian punched him once.
Twice.
Vittorio fell.
Adrian grabbed his collar.
“You pointed a gun at a child.”
Vittorio spat blood.
“She’s leverage.”
Adrian hit him again.
“No.”
Another strike.
“She is a child.”
Vittorio laughed.
“And there is your weakness.”
Adrian stopped.
Vittorio smiled through blood.
“Emily.”
Adrian looked toward her.
“Lucy.”
His father whispered.
“Love makes men predictable.”
Adrian’s eyes became cold.
“You taught me that.”
He stood.
“But you misunderstood something.”
“What?”
“Love also gives men something worth becoming dangerous for.”
Every phone in the ballroom suddenly chimed.
One sound.
Then hundreds.
Guests looked down.
Screens lit.
Files appeared.
Names.
Payments.
Photographs.
Videos.
Bank records.
Daniel had restored the upload.
Vittorio stared.
“No.”
Another screen activated.
Then another.
Evidence spread through the room.
Daniel’s voice came through the speakers.
“Every file has also been sent to twelve news organizations, three federal prosecutors outside Illinois, two international financial-crimes units and several very curious reporters.”
Vittorio screamed.
“Shut it down!”
Too late.
People began recording.
Livestreaming.
Calling attorneys.
Calling police.
Calling journalists.
Vittorio’s empire was no longer secret.
Sirens screamed outside.
Not one department.
Dozens.
Federal vehicles crashed through the gates.
Vittorio looked toward Adrian.
“You did this.”
Adrian shook his head.
“No.”
He glanced toward Emily.
“We did.”
Federal agents entered the ballroom.
Vanessa was handcuffed.
Charles Carlisle was arrested in the tunnel.
Vittorio stood surrounded.
He looked at Adrian one final time.
“You think this makes you free?”
Adrian stepped closer.
“No.”
He looked toward Lucy, now safe in Emily’s arms.
“This does.”
Agents took Vittorio away.
Hours later, after statements and ambulances and cameras surrounded the estate, Adrian sat beside Michael in the hospital.
The bullet had missed his heart by less than an inch.
Michael opened his eyes.
Adrian looked down.
“You lived.”
“Disappointed?”
“Deeply.”
Michael smiled weakly.
“Did we win?”
Adrian looked toward the doorway.
Emily stood there holding Lucy’s hand.
Daniel was beside them.
Adrian’s chest tightened.
“Yes.”
He answered quietly.
“We won.”
But as Daniel watched Emily look at Adrian, he understood something neither of them was ready to say.
May you like
The war was over.
Their marriage might be too.
