Chapter 2 - The Ambush
The cold metal of the handcuffs dug mercilessly into my wrists.
I cried out in agony as the officer wrenched my broken arm behind my back.
"She needs a hospital, her arm is broken!" Mark shouted, playing the role of a concerned husband perfectly.
I stared at him in horror as the police dragged me out of my own apartment.
He had orchestrated this perfectly to get me out of the way.
The officers shoved me into the back of a freezing squad car.
Hours blurred together in a haze of pain and fluorescent police precinct lights.
A detective threw a plastic bag full of cocaine onto the metal interrogation table.
"We found this stashed inside your gym bag, Lena," the detective sneered.
I shook my head, tears streaming down my face as my broken arm throbbed relentlessly.
"My husband put it there, you have to believe me," I pleaded.
Before the detective could respond, the heavy steel door swung open.
A tall man in a tailored Italian suit stepped into the room, holding a leather briefcase.
"I am her attorney, and this interrogation is over," the man stated coldly.
The detective scoffed, but the lawyer handed him a piece of paper that made the cop turn pale.
Within ten minutes, I was walking out of the precinct into the chilly New York night.
"Who are you?" I asked the lawyer as we approached a sleek black sedan.
"Mr. Moretti sent me," he replied, opening the back door for me.
I felt a massive wave of relief, finally believing that Vincent had not abandoned me.
But as I stepped toward the car, the roar of a motorcycle engine shattered the silence.
May you like
A rider in black leather sped toward us, raising a suppressed submachine gun.
Through the dark visor of his helmet, I saw Mark’s unmistakable, twisted smile.
