Chapter 1 - The Click of Fate
The mechanical click of the auto-injector echoed through the silent study like a pistol shot in a small room. I held the orange tip firmly against the fabric of Alejandro Moretti’s trousers, counting in my head just like Mama had practiced with me a hundred times before.
One... two... three...
The epinephrine surged through his bloodstream. Across the room, the two guards froze in absolute shock. The taller guard, Marcus, had his hand extended, mid-reach, intending to yank me away by my pigtails. But the sudden shift in the air stopped him cold.
Alejandro’s chest heaved—a deep, shuddering, violent gasp for air as his constricted airways opened up. His purple lips flushed back to a bruised crimson, and his dark, piercing eyes—eyes that had commanded an underworld empire for twenty years—snapped open, fixing directly onto mine.
His massive, calloused hand tightened around my tiny wrist. His grip was strong, yet he didn't squeeze hard enough to hurt me. He looked down at the empty, translucent plastic casing of the EpiPen, then up at my pink rabbit backpack, and finally into my eyes.
"You..." Alejandro’s voice was a gravelly, ruined whisper, but it carried an undeniable power. "What... did you give me?"
"Medicine," I squeaked, my voice trembling as the adrenaline began to leave my four-year-old body. "Mama said... when your throat closes... you use the blue-and-orange pen. It was my last one."
Before Alejandro could process my words, Marcus snapped out of his stupor. He lunged forward, grabbing my shoulder and tearing me away from the Don.
"Get this brat out of here!" Marcus barked at the second guard, a pale, nervous man named Leo. "She's messing up the scene! The Don’s been poisoned! Call the house doctor!"
"Wait," Alejandro rasped, attempting to push himself up from the floorboards. "Don't... touch her..."
Marcus paid no attention to the weakened Don. Instead, his eyes darted nervously toward the far corner of the study—specifically, toward a mahogany bookshelf where a tiny, almost invisible red LED light was blinking steadily behind the leather-bound spine of an old Italian dictionary.
Marcus’s face went completely ghostly white.
He didn't just notice the camera. He knew it was running. And I saw the terror in his eyes because he knew what that camera had recorded prior to my arrival: Marcus standing over Alejandro’s desk, dropping a clear liquid into the crystal wine glass while the Don’s back was turned.
"Leo," Marcus hissed, his voice dropping into a deadly whisper as he pulled a suppressed hand gun from his jacket holster. "Shut off the feed. Now. Delete the last ten minutes from the main server."
"Marcus?" Leo faltered, stepping back. "What are you talking about? She saved the Don! He’s breathing!"
"Shut up and do what I tell you!" Marcus roared, pointing his weapon directly at Leo’s chest. "If that footage gets out to the rest of the Syndicate, we're both dead men by sunrise! The poison was supposed to look like a heart attack!"
Alejandro’s eyes narrowed into slits of lethal, arctic ice. Even on his knees, stripped of his physical strength, the aura of the Boss settled over the room like heavy iron.
"You..." Alejandro hissed at Marcus, his breath regaining its rhythm. "It was you."
"I had no choice, Boss," Marcus spat, his hands shaking slightly as he aimed his gun at Alejandro’s head, then down at me. "The Valenti family paid me ten million dollars. I was supposed to be in Miami by midnight. But this little pest..." Marcus glared down at me with pure, unadulterated hatred. "...this little maid's rat ruined everything!"
I shrank back, clutching my stuffed rabbit against my chest.
Marcus pulled back the hammer of his gun. "No witnesses. Not even a four-year-old."
"Marcus, stop!" Leo yelled.
"Shut up, Leo!" Marcus screamed.
May you like
He raised the weapon, pointing the dark, hollow barrel straight at my forehead. I squeezed my eyes shut, burying my face into the soft fur of my bunny, waiting for the loud noise.
BANG.
