Chapter 8 - Blood in the Chapel
Chaos erupted in the cemetery. Marco and three Moretti security guards immediately formed a protective perimeter around Emily, returning heavy fire as black sedans breached the cemetery gates, tearing across the manicured grass. Men wearing tactical vests and ski masks poured out of the vehicles, firing automatic rifles.
"Get to the crypt!" Marco shouted, blood soaking through his dark jacket as he fired back with lethal precision. "Move, Emily, move!"
Emily sprinted across the wet cobblestones, her heart racing not with paralyzing fear, but with a fierce will to survive. She was no longer the helpless, cowering woman hiding under a desk waiting for someone to strike her. She scrambled inside the heavy stone mausoleum just as a barrage of bullets chipped the marble facade behind her.
Outside, the gunfire was deafening. Marco and his men held the entrance valiantly, dropping the attackers one by one, but the mercenaries had numerical superiority. Footsteps echoed heavily inside the stone chamber. Emily ducked behind a sarcophagus, picking up an iron decorative candlestick from an altar, her knuckles white.
"Emily!" a familiar, sickening voice echoed through the crypt.
Derek stepped out of the shadows, clutching a black handgun. His hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot and crazed, his expensive clothes stained and torn. "You really thought you could hide behind Moretti forever? Look at you, playing mob wife in your expensive silk!"
May you like
Emily stepped out from behind the stone tomb, refusing to cower. She stood tall, staring directly into the barrel of the gun. "You lost, Derek. The whole city knows what you are. You're nothing but a pathetic bully who broke the second he met a real man."
Derek’s face twisted in uncontrollable rage. "I gave you everything! I took you in when your father died with empty pockets! And you humiliated me!" He raised the weapon, leveling it directly between her eyes. "Say goodbye to your mafia prince, Emily."
