Chapter 7 - The TrapMarco was supposed to have taken Emma and her mother out through the back estate hours ago. Why was she still in the house?
Allessandro altered his path instantly, sprinting down the carpeted hallway toward the servant quarters in the west wing.
He kicked open the door to the secondary security room. Marco lay on the floor, unconscious, a pool of blood forming near his head from a blunt blow. Standing in the center of the room was Isabella, holding six-year-old Emma by her small shoulder.
Isabella’s slick composure was completely gone. Her hair was wild, her eyes frantic, and her right hand was holding a tiny .22 caliber pistol pressed firmly against Emma’s side. Emma was crying silently, holding her button-eyed doll tightly against her chest, tears streaming down her pale cheeks.
"Step back, Allessandro!" Isabella shrieked, her voice cracking with terror. "Step back or I swear to God I'll kill her!"
Allessandro froze, raising his Kimber pistol, pointing it directly between Isabella’s eyes.
"You touch that child, Isabella," Allessandro said, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper, "and I will tear your world apart inch by inch."
"She ruined everything!" Isabella screamed, her eyes full of venom as she glared down at Emma. "We had it all planned! You were supposed to die quietly in your sleep! The trust would have transferred the shipping docks to me, Antonio would have cleared his debt with Moretti, and I would have been rich!"
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"You sold me out for money?" Allessandro asked, taking a half-step forward.
"Don't move!" Isabella yelled, pressing the barrel harder into Emma’s side. Emma let out a small sob. "You never loved me, Allessandro! I was just a trophy to you! A pretty face for your arm at charity galas! Antonio's men are downstairs right now. They're going to wipe out your guards. Give me your keys to the underground tunnel, or the girl dies first!"
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