Chapter 7 - The Cornered Beast
For five agonizing seconds, Julian Sterling stared at the pen Luca placed on the desk. His hands shook so violently that he could barely grip the silver instrument. The board members watched in silence; not a single one spoke up in his defense. The evidence was absolute, the terror was real, and the empire he had spent a decade building had turned to dust in the span of ten minutes.
With a broken sob, Sterling pressed the pen to the paper. His signature was a jagged, illegible mess, but it was legally binding, witnessed by the very board he had manipulated for years.
""It's done,"" Sterling wept, dropping the pen and burying his face in his hands. ""It's all yours. Take it. Just let me walk out of here.""
""Marco, take Dr. Sterling to the District Attorney's office,"" Luca commanded coldly. ""Accompany him directly into the prosecutor's office. Ensure he delivers the confession personally.""
""Right away, Boss,"" Marco said, grabbing Sterling by the collar of his designer suit and hauling him to his feet like a sack of laundry.
As Marco dragged the disgraced CEO toward the boardroom doors, Sterling suddenly snapped. With the desperate strength of a cornered animal, he twisted violently, driving his elbow into Marco’s wounded ribs—injuries sustained during the blizzard ambush the previous night. Marco groaned, losing his grip on the slippery fabric of Sterling’s coat.
Sterling didn't run for the elevators. He lunged toward the presentation console, ripping a concealed ceramic-frame snub-nosed revolver from an emergency compartment beneath the podium.
""If I'm going to hell, you're coming with me, DeSantis!"" Sterling screamed, whipping the gun around.
The muzzle wasn't pointed at Luca.
It was aimed directly at my chest.
Everything happened in a fraction of a second. Time dilated into slow motion. I saw Sterling’s finger tightening on the trigger, his eyes wide and completely unhinged. I couldn't move; my feet felt rooted to the floor.
A dark shadow crossed my vision.
Luca didn't hesitate. He didn't dive for cover. He threw his entire body across the space between us, shielding me with his own torso just as the deafening crack of gunfire shattered the room.
A sharp, searing sound tore through the air. Luca grunted, a heavy, suffocating sound, as the kinetic impact slammed him against me. We both stumbled back against the large conference table.
Before Sterling could fire a second shot, Marco recovered. A single, thunderous shot from Marco’s service weapon rang out. Sterling gasped, dropped the revolver, and collapsed backward against the shattered glass partition, dead before he hit the floor.
Panic erupted in the room as the remaining board members scrambled for the exits.
""Luca!"" I cried, grabbing his lapels as his weight sagged against me. ""Luca, look at me!""
Blood was already blooming across the left side of his charcoal vest, right below his ribs. His breathing turned ragged, but his dark eyes remained locked onto mine, completely clear, completely focused on my face.
""Are you... hurt?"" Luca gasped, a faint trace of crimson touching the corner of his lip.
""I'm fine, you idiot! You took the bullet for me!"" My hands were already moving frantically, tearing open his silk tie, ripping the pearl buttons off his shirt. The bullet had entered the left upper quadrant of his abdomen. High-velocity trauma. Perforation risk.
""Marco!"" I screamed, my voice commanding and sharp, slicing through the lingering gunsmoke. ""Call the trauma team downstairs! Tell them to prep Operating Room 1 immediately! I need sterile laparotomy packs, four units of blood, and a rapid infuser!""
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""Mara..."" Luca whispered, his hand reaching up, gripping my wrist with surprising strength. ""Don't... leave.""
""I'm not leaving you, Luca DeSantis,"" I said, pressing my palms hard against his wound to stem the bleeding, exactly as he had done for his brother hours before. ""You survived a mafia war. You are not dying on a corporate boardroom carpet. Now hold on to me!""
