Chapter 4 - The Coup
Larkin went completely still.
He was surrounded by Donatelli's men in the front and betrayed by his own flesh and blood in the back.
I realized with terrifying clarity that Thomas had planned this entire night to assassinate Larkin.
I was just the bait to start the conflict.
"Take his weapon," Thomas ordered the enforcers.
One of Donatelli's men stepped forward and disarmed Larkin, tossing his pistol across the floor.
"You are making a fatal mistake, Thomas," Larkin said, his voice terrifyingly calm.
"I am taking back the empire you stole from my father," Thomas hissed.
Thomas looked at me, his eyes filled with pure malice.
"And I am going to let Donatelli skin your little thief alive."
I looked down at the floor, my mind racing through terrifying possibilities.
My eyes locked onto my own feet.
My sensible office shoes were gone, replaced by the four-inch stilettos I had bought yesterday.
The saleswoman had promised they were tipped with solid steel.
I did not think.
I simply shifted my weight to my left foot and kicked backward with all the strength I possessed.
The steel spike of my heel drove straight through Thomas's kneecap.
There was a sickening crunch of bone.
Thomas let out a blood-curdling scream and collapsed to the floor, dropping his weapon.
Larkin moved with terrifying, instantaneous speed.
He grabbed the falling gun out of mid-air before it even hit the carpet.
In one fluid motion, Larkin shot Donatelli perfectly in the chest.
The rival boss fell backward, crashing through a table of champagne flutes.
Gunfire erupted from every corner of the ballroom.
Screams filled the air as the elegant gala devolved into an absolute slaughterhouse.
Larkin grabbed my wrist with an iron grip and pulled me behind a marble pillar.
Bullets chipped away at the stone above our heads, raining white dust onto my black dress.
"We have to get to the service elevator," Larkin yelled over the deafening noise.
We sprinted blindly through the crossfire, pushing through a pair of heavy wooden doors.
We burst into the hotel's massive commercial kitchen.
I stopped dead in my tracks, letting out a gasp of pure horror.
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The entire kitchen staff was lying dead on the pristine white floor.
And sitting in the center of the room was a block of C4 explosive, with a digital timer ticking down from five seconds.
