Chapter 4 - The Ultimatum
The phone buzzed like an angry wasp in Clara's hand.
Adriano stared at the flashing screen.
"Answer it," he commanded.
"Put it on speaker."
Clara swiped the screen with a shaking thumb.
"Hello?"
Martin's voice crackled through the speaker.
He didn't sound angry anymore.
He sounded terrified.
"Clara."
"Listen to me very carefully."
"You have to get away from him."
"He's going to kill you."
Clara glanced at Adriano, whose face was carved from stone.
"You just tried to have me shot, Martin," Clara said, finding a scrap of courage.
"That wasn't me!" Martin screamed.
"I swear to God, Clara, I didn't send those men."
"Moretti is playing you."
"He's the one who set up the shell accounts."
"He's using you as the fall guy for his own family's civil war."
Clara's stomach dropped.
She looked at Adriano again.
His jaw tightened, but he didn't interrupt.
"Why should I believe you?" Clara asked.
"Because if I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have left a clue in your apartment."
Clara froze.
"What are you talking about?"
"Check your kitchen counter."
"I left you an insurance policy."
"Bring it to me, and I can make this all go away."
"If Moretti finds it first, you're dead."
The line went dead.
The silence in the SUV was suffocating.
Adriano slowly took the phone from her hand and tossed it out the shattered window.
"He's lying," Adriano said smoothly.
"Is he?" Clara shot back, her voice rising.
"Take me to my apartment."
"Absolutely not."
"It's a trap."
"Take me to my apartment, or I open this door and roll out onto the highway."
She grabbed the door handle, her knuckles turning white.
Adriano stared at her for a long, heavy moment.
He tapped the glass dividing them from the driver.
"Reroute."
"East 73rd."
Ten minutes later, the SUV pulled up to her quiet brownstone.
Adriano and his men escorted her up the stairs, guns drawn.
The front door was unlocked.
Clara pushed it open.
The apartment had been trashed.
Cushions slashed, drawers emptied, books thrown everywhere.
But sitting perfectly intact on the kitchen island was a plain manila envelope.
Clara ran to it and tore it open.
May you like
Inside was a single photograph.
It showed Adriano Moretti, standing in a dark alley, handing a thick stack of cash to the exact same sniper who had just tried to shoot her.
