Chapter 8 - The Betrayal
A collective gasp echoed through the ballroom as the guests recognized the ghost of Chicago.
Dante stared up at his wife, his jaw clenched so tightly I thought his teeth might shatter.
Clara smiled down at him with a look of pure, unadulterated venom.
She spoke into a microphone, her voice echoing off the marble walls.
She announced to the syndicate that Dante Marino was weak and dying.
She claimed it was time for the true heir of the family to take control of the empire.
Dante pulled his weapon, but a dozen of his own men suddenly drew their guns and aimed them at his head.
The entire security detail had been bought and paid for by Clara's stolen three million dollars.
Dante grabbed my hand and pulled me behind a massive marble pillar.
Gunfire erupted in the ballroom as loyalists and traitors began tearing each other apart.
Glass shattered everywhere, raining down on us like deadly diamonds.
Dante was growing weaker by the second, his breathing heavy and labored.
I knew we had to get to the balcony to get the antidote from Clara.
I grabbed a discarded pistol from the floor and fired blindly into the crowd of traitors.
Dante used the distraction to push us toward the grand staircase.
We fought our way up the stairs, leaving a trail of blood and broken men behind us.
We burst through the balcony doors, stepping out into the freezing night air.
Clara was waiting for us, holding a small glass vial filled with blue liquid.
She laughed and tossed the vial over the edge of the balcony into the dark alley below.
Dante collapsed to his knees, his strength finally giving out entirely.
Clara walked over to me and pressed a cold, silver gun directly to my forehead.
May you like
She whispered, "You should have stayed a secretary, Emily."
A loud gunshot echoed through the night.
