Chapter 7 - The Trap Snaps Shut
The storm had followed us north, turning the rolling hills of the Hudson Valley into a thrashing wilderness of black branches and driving rain.
The Hayes ancestral estate stood atop a jagged cliff overlooking the swollen, roaring river. It had once been a paradise of white limestone terraces and sprawling English gardens, but tonight, beneath the strobe flashes of blue-white lightning, it looked like a haunted ruin.
Our convoy of three black SUVs killed their headlights a mile from the front gates, rolling silently up the long, gravel driveway.
“Stay in the vehicle, Scarlet,” Lorenzo commanded quietly, checking his tactical earpiece as the engine purred to a stop beneath a canopy of weeping willows.
“No,” I said, meeting his dark eyes with fierce defiance. “Ethan didn't just target your docks, Lorenzo. He destroyed my home. He beat my sister. He dragged my family into the dirt. I am not hiding in the back of an armored truck while you fight my war.”
Lorenzo studied my face for three long heartbeats. In the dim amber glow of the dashboard, I saw a flicker of profound respect ignite in his dark gaze. He reached into his coat, pulled out a small, sleek 9mm pistol, and placed it into my hands.
“Safety is off,” he murmured, his fingers brushing mine. “If anyone comes within five feet of you who isn't wearing a Moretti pin, put two in their chest. Do you understand me?”
“I understand,” I whispered, gripping the cold steel.
We moved through the shadows of the estate grounds, the driving rain soaking through our clothes within seconds. Lorenzo moved with terrifying, predatory grace, leading five of his top operatives through the ruined hedge maze toward the central courtyard.
Through the curtain of rain, I saw headlights.
A silver Mercedes was parked crookedly across the manicured lawn of the rose garden, its high beams illuminating the shattered remnants of the marble fountain.
Two men in heavy rain slickers were working feverishly with sledgehammers and pickaxes, shattering the antique stone basin into rubble. Standing beneath the beam of the headlights, soaked to the bone, was Ethan Prescott.
He was unrecognizable.
His bespoke jacket was gone; his dress shirt was torn, caked in mud, and plastered to his shivering frame. In his right hand, he held a heavy revolver, his eyes darting frantically across the tree line like a rabid dog cornered by hunters.
“Hurry up, you idiots!” Ethan screamed over the roar of the thunder. “The box is in the foundation! Dig it out before Moretti’s men track us down!”
“Looking for this, Prescott?”
Lorenzo’s voice didn't echo; it sliced through the thunder like a guillotine blade.
Ethan spun around, raising his revolver wildly toward the shadows. “Who’s there? Moretti? I’ll kill you! I swear to God I’ll shoot!”
From the darkness of the surrounding treeline, six laser sights suddenly appeared—crimson dots of light snapping onto Ethan’s chest, his forehead, and the throats of the two men with the sledgehammers.
The two diggers dropped their tools immediately, falling to their knees with their hands locked behind their heads.
Ethan stood frozen, bathed in the red crosshairs, panting like an exhausted animal.
Lorenzo stepped out of the shadows into the blinding glare of the Mercedes headlights. He looked untouched by the storm, his trench coat billowing slightly in the freezing wind, commanding the space with chilling, lethal calm.
Beside him, I stepped forward, the gun held firmly at my side.
Ethan’s eyes locked onto me, his jaw dropping in a mixture of disbelief, hatred, and pathetic desperation.
“Scarlet?” he choked out, rain dripping off his nose and chin. “Scarlet! Tell him to back off! You know me! We were going to get married! We built this together!”
“You built nothing, Ethan,” I called out, my voice carrying over the wind, steady and cold. “You stole my grandmother’s ring. You embezzled from my family’s trust. You beat my sister half to death and left her in an alley. You are nothing but a thief who ran out of luck.”
“I did it for us!” Ethan screamed, taking a wild, frantic step toward me, raising his gun. “If I didn't get that land, they were going to execute me! You were supposed to be my wife! You were supposed to save me!”
*Crack!*
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A gunshot echoed through the valley, louder than the thunder.
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