Chapter 8: The Viper's Nest
Emma woke up with a pounding headache and the taste of copper in her mouth. She was tied to a cold metal chair in a dimly lit, damp concrete room that smelled of rust and stagnant water. An abandoned shipyard warehouse.
"Ah, the good doctor is awake," a rasping voice echoed through the space.
Emma blinked, forcing her eyes to focus. Walking out of the shadows was a man in a sharp grey suit, his face scarred, his eyes vacant of any human warmth. Matteo Marcone.
"Where is Sophia?" Emma demanded, her voice hoarse but fierce. "If you touch her—"
"The girl is in the next room, unharmed for now," Marcone interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. "She is my leverage. I don't kill leverage until it has served its purpose."
Marco stood behind Marcone, his arms crossed, looking at Emma without a shred of remorse. "She found the offshore accounts, Boss. She’s smarter than she looks."
"It doesn't matter," Marcone sneered. "The trap is already set. Lorenzo is on his way. He thinks he’s coming to negotiate for your lives. He doesn't know I have a sniper waiting for him the moment his car pulls up."
Emma felt her heart stop. "You’re going to murder him."
"I’m going to reclaim what is mine," Marcone corrected, leaning in close, his breath foul. "Lorenzo destroyed our empire because of a dead wife and a sick kid. He weakened us. Tonight, the Pellegrini name ends, and the Marcone family takes over the Atlantic coast."
Emma’s mind raced. Her hands were tied tightly behind her back with thick zip-ties. She needed to break free, she needed to warn Lorenzo. She looked around the floor and noticed a rusted piece of metal shelving just a few inches from her chair.
"You're a coward, Marcone," Emma spat, trying to provoke him, to keep his attention off her hands. "You couldn't beat Lorenzo in a fair fight, so you use poison, you use children, and you buy off traitors who have no honor."
Marco’s face flushed with anger, but Marcone just laughed. "Honor doesn't pay the bills, doctor. Power does."
Marcone turned to Marco. "Go outside. Check the perimeter. Lorenzo should be here any minute."
As Marco walked out, Marcone's phone rang. He walked to the far side of the warehouse to answer it, his back turned to Emma.
This was her only chance. Emma leaned her chair backward, throwing her weight to the side. The chair tipped over with a loud crash, hitting the concrete floor.
"What the hell are you doing?" Marcone shouted, turning around.
Emma ignored him, ignoring the blinding pain in her shoulder from the fall. She dragged her bound hands against the jagged edge of the rusted metal shelving on the floor. The sharp iron sliced into her wrists, drawing blood, but she didn't stop. She sawed the zip-tie against the metal with manic energy.
The plastic snapped. Her hands were free.
Before Marcone could react, Emma scrambled to her feet, grabbed a heavy iron pipe lying on the floor, and swung it. It hit Marcone in the ribs with a loud crack. He groaned, collapsing to his knees.
Emma didn't stop to finish him. She sprinted toward the side door, searching for Sophia. She burst into a small office room and saw Sophia tied to a chair, crying.
"Emma!" Sophia sobbed.
Emma quickly untied her, pulling her into a tight hug. "I’ve got you, baby. We have to run. Now."
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They ran out the back exit of the warehouse just as the sound of a heavy car engine echoed from the front. A black SUV tore into the shipyard, its tires screeching.
Lorenzo had arrived. And he was walking straight into an ambush.
