Chapter 9 - The Confession in the Dust
The sound of gunfire echoed from the rear loading docks as Gabriel’s tactical team engaged the outer perimeter guards.
I didn't wait. I marched straight toward the reinforced pedestrian door of the main office building. Two Moretti guards sprinted around the corner of the container stacks, their rifles raised, screaming for me to halt.
When the lead guard caught sight of my face under the flickering neon sign of the warehouse, he froze mid-stride, his gun slipping downward in his trembling hands.
"N-Natalie?" he choked out, his eyes widening in superstitious horror. "What the hell... you're dead! We saw the car burn!"
"Tell your boss his paperwork is overdue," I said, my voice ice-cold and steady.
Before the guard could recover, a muffled thump sounded behind him as Gabriel materialized from the shadows, sweeping his rifle stock across the man’s temple. The guard collapsed like a sack of wet cement. The second guard tried to raise his weapon, but Gabriel’s sidearm barked once—a clean, suppressed shot that caught him in the shoulder, dropping him instantly.
Gabriel grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the heavy metal door leading into Dante Moretti’s private office.
"You're out of your mind," Gabriel hissed, though there was a grudging respect in his eyes.
"We have two minutes before reinforcements arrive," I shot back, kicking the office door open with my boot.
The office was lavishly decorated with leather furniture, expensive liquor cabinets, and a massive mahogany desk. Standing behind the desk, holding a heavy-caliber revolver with shaking hands, was Dante Moretti himself.
He looked older in person than he had in Natalie’s photographs—his silver hair disheveled, his expensive suit wrinkled, sweat beading on his forehead.
"Get out!" Dante screamed, aiming the gun directly at my chest. "You're dead! I watched the brakes fail! I watched the fire!"
I stepped out from behind Gabriel, letting the overhead light catch every angle of my face.
"You didn't kill Natalie, Dante," I said, stepping forward until the barrel of his gun was only feet away. "You killed a girl who trusted the wrong people. But I'm her sister. And I don't forgive mistakes."
Dante’s eyes darted wildly between me and Gabriel. He realized the game was over. The perimeter guards were down, his brother was captured in the marsh, and the ghost of the woman he had murdered had just walked through his front door.
With a desperate cry, Dante swung the barrel toward Gabriel—
Bang.
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Gabriel’s shot was faster, cleaner, and final.
Dante dropped his weapon, clutching his shoulder as he crashed backward over his leather desk, sending paperwork, files, and a heavy brass lamp shattering onto the floor.
