Chapter 8 - The Traitor's Kiss
Elena stepped into the dim moonlight filtering through the broken roof.
She held a silenced pistol, and it was aimed directly at my chest.
"Where is my father?" I demanded, refusing to let her see my terror.
"Safe in his bakery in New York," Elena sneered, shaking her head.
"The phone call was a recording, cut and spliced together."
I stared at her, the pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place.
"You made the deal with the Rossis," I said, realizing how thoroughly she had manipulated everyone.
"Marco was just your puppet."
"Luca was supposed to marry me," Elena hissed, her sharp face twisting with genuine hatred.
"I spent my entire life learning this business, preparing to run this family by his side."
"Then you showed up, a clumsy, pathetic baker, and he looked at you the way he was supposed to look at me."
She cocked the pistol, a cold smile touching her lips.
"David doesn't care about you either, he just wanted the distraction so his men could ambush Luca on the road."
My heart stopped.
Luca was out there, walking into a trap because he was trying to protect me.
I realized I still had my heavy, solid-wood rolling pin tucked into my sash, grabbed from the kitchen on my way out.
"You are right about one thing," I said, taking a slow step toward her.
"I am a baker."
I whipped the rolling pin out and hurled it with all my might.
It flew through the air and struck Elena squarely in the wrist, causing her to drop the gun with a shriek of pain.
I lunged for the weapon, but she kicked me hard in the ribs, sending me sprawling.
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Elena grabbed the gun and pointed it at my head, her finger tightening on the trigger.
Suddenly, a massive shadow blocked out the moonlight in the doorway.
