Chapter 6 - The Betrayal
The fairy tale shattered at midnight.
While the ballroom was loud with music and laughter, a waiter quietly approached Adrian, slipping a folded note into his hand.
Adrian opened it. His eyes narrowed.
The West Side warehouse is on fire. Leo and the night staff are trapped inside. Falcone’s men set the blaze.
Adrian turned to Nathan Cole. "Get the cars ready. Now."
He turned to Elena, his face pale with urgency. "Elena, I have to go. Nathan’s second-in-command, Marco, will take you straight back to the estate. Stay inside. Do not leave the house until I return."
"Adrian, be careful!" Elena pleaded, grabbing his hands. "It’s a trap!"
"I know," Adrian said, kissing her passionately on the lips right in the middle of the ballroom—a deep, lingering kiss that left her breathless. "I'll be back before dawn."
He rushed out with his security detail.
Elena was escorted to a black SUV waiting in the Drake’s private courtyard. Marco opened the door for her.
"Miss Brooks, please step inside," Marco said.
Elena sat in the back seat, her heart pounding with dread.
As the SUV drove through the rain-slicked streets of Chicago, Elena noticed something wrong. They weren't heading toward the suburban estate in Lake Forest. They were driving deeper into the industrial district near the docks.
"Marco?" Elena called out, leaning forward. "This isn't the way to the estate."
Marco didn't answer. He kept his eyes on the rearview mirror.
In the front passenger seat, another security guard pulled out a suppressed handgun and aimed it directly at her through the headrest gap.
"Sit back and keep quiet, Miss Brooks," the guard said coldly.
Elena’s blood ran cold. "Marco... you’re working for Falcone?"
"Falcone pays double," Marco grunted, turning the SUV into a dark, deserted alleyway behind an abandoned meatpacking plant. "And Claire Whitmore made it very easy. She gave us your schedule, your route, and disabled the estate’s secondary tracking beacons."
"Claire?" Elena whispered, the horror sinking in.
Claire hadn't just hated her out of jealousy. Claire had been selling internal security access to Vince Falcone for months, bitter that Adrian had never given her the power or affection she felt she deserved.
The SUV ground to a halt inside a dark, damp warehouse.
The doors were yanked open.
Elena was dragged out of the vehicle by two heavy-set thugs. Her beautiful emerald dress was torn at the hem, stained with grease and dirt.
Standing near a folding table under a single hanging lightbulb was Vince Falcone, holding a cigar. Beside him stood Claire Whitmore, wearing her pristine coat, holding her designer handbag.
"Well, well," Falcone sneered, puffing his cigar. "The baker girl."
Claire stepped forward, looking down her nose at Elena with pure, unadulterated hatred. "You thought you were special, didn't you? You thought a few baked goods and a fat smile could make you the mistress of the Moretti empire? You’re a nobody, Elena. And tonight, you’re the bait."
Elena stood tall, pulling herself up despite the rough grip of the guards holding her arms. She looked Claire dead in the eye.
"You sold out the man who fed you for five years," Elena said, her voice dripping with disgust. "You sold out Leo. You sold out this entire house. You aren't sophisticated, Claire. You’re just cheap."
Claire’s face twisted in rage. She stepped forward and slapped Elena across the face with all her strength.
May you like
The sharp crack echoed through the empty warehouse. Elena’s head snapped to the side, her cheek burning with pain.
Falcone laughed loudly. "Tie her to the chair. When Adrian gets here to save his little bride, my snipers will put a bullet through his head the second he walks through that door."
