Chapter 8 - The Underworld Shatters
The ballroom was in total chaos.
Moretti realized his sabotage had failed. With the High Council turning against him for violating summit neutrality, the old don signaled his men.
Three gunshots cracked through the air, shattering the massive crystal chandelier above the center tables. Crystal shards rained down like diamond hail.
Screams erupted. Hundreds of panicked patrons scrambled for the exits, knocking over banquet tables and trampling velvet drapes.
“Take the stage!” Moretti roared, drawing a silver revolver from his coat. “Kill them all!”
Sterling didn't hesitate for a microsecond.
His corporate persona vanished. In its place stood the deadly, lethal mafia prince who had survived a dozen assassination attempts in his youth.
He drew two concealed Glock 19s from his vest with blinding speed, stepping directly in front of Marlo and Vivienne.
*Bang! Bang! Bang!*
Sterling fired three rapid shots into the front row of Moretti’s advancing bodyguards, dropping two of them instantly.
“Dante! Secure the perimeter!” Sterling roared over the din of automatic gunfire.
Dante and six heavily armed Voss security operatives formed a wedge around the stage stairs, returning fire with lethal precision.
“Get down!” Sterling shouted, grabbing Marlo by the wrist and pulling her behind the heavy mahogany speaker podium as bullets splintered the stage wood above their heads.
Vivienne was already crouched against the floor, her hands over her ears, trembling violently.
Marlo crouched beside her, holding Vivienne’s hand tightly. “Stay with me, Vivienne! Don’t let them see you hide!”
Vivienne looked up, meeting Marlo’s eyes. Through the tears and the glowing UV makeup, something shifted within Vivienne Voss. The fear that had kept her paralyzed for twenty-seven years suddenly burned away.
She let go of Marlo’s hand, reached up to the high beaded collar of her gown, and tore the lace away, exposing the thick burn scars on her neck completely to the open room.
“I’m done hiding!” Vivienne shouted over the gunfire.
Sterling glanced back at his sister, then looked down at Marlo.
For the first time in his life, Sterling Voss’s eyes were filled with an emotion he had never allowed himself to feel: *remorse*.
“Marlo,” he said, his voice raw as he reloaded his weapon. “I didn't know. About Ruth... about what she did for Viv... I swear to God, I didn't know.”
“You didn't care to know!” Marlo yelled back, her eyes flashing with pure fire. “You didn't look at her face! You just saw a line on a spreadsheet!”
Sterling looked at her, his jaw clenching as a bullet ricocheted off the steel truss beside his shoulder.
“You’re right,” Sterling said, his voice dropping into a tone of absolute, desperate clarity. “I was blind. But I will not let them kill Ruth’s daughter tonight. Not while I still breathe.”
He turned back toward the ballroom.
Moretti was advancing with four surviving gunmen, trying to reach the stage steps.
Sterling stood up into the open line of fire, completely abandoning his cover.
“Moretti!” Sterling roared.
The old mobster raised his revolver toward Sterling’s chest.
Before Moretti could pull the trigger, Dante flanked from the side corridor, firing two rounds through Moretti’s weapon arm. The revolver clattered to the floor.
Sterling descended the stage steps like an angel of death. He kicked Moretti’s remaining gunmen aside, grabbed the old boss by the lapels of his expensive suit, and slammed him against the marble pillar with enough force to crack the stone.
Sterling pressed the barrel of his Glock directly beneath Moretti’s chin.
The ballroom descended into an eerie, ringing silence, punctuated only by the groans of wounded guards and the hiss of ruptured sprinkler pipes.
“The council saw what you did tonight, Moretti,” Sterling whispered, his voice cold enough to freeze blood. “Your empire is forfeit. Your territory is gone. If you ever speak my sister’s name again, I won’t just take your businesses—I will erase your entire bloodline from history.”
Sterling threw Moretti to the floor like a sack of garbage.
Dante and his men moved in, disarming the surviving attackers and securing the exits.
Sterling stood in the ruined ballroom, his suit torn, his hands stained with gunsmoke and blood.
He slowly turned back toward the stage.
Beneath the damaged lights, Marlo and Vivienne were standing together.
May you like
Two women who should have been bitter enemies, bound together by a tragedy that had started thirty years ago in the ashes of an old war.
***
