Chapter 8 - The Bait
The blinding spotlight made it impossible to see exactly where Mark's men were hiding.
Damian immediately pushed me and the children behind a stack of massive metal shipping containers.
"You always were a predictable coward, Mark," Damian yelled back, stepping out into the open to draw his attention.
"Selling your own flesh and blood to pay off your pathetic gambling debts is a new low, even for you."
Mark's arrogant laughter echoed across the empty docks, sounding unhinged and desperate.
"It wasn't just about the money, Marchetti," Mark sneered, pacing back and forth on the deck.
"Chloe was going to ruin my entire life with those brats, so I made a deal with Silvio to make them disappear."
I clamped my hands over my mouth to stifle a sob, horrified by the sheer evil of the man I once loved.
"Silvio is dead, Mark," Damian lied smoothly, his voice echoing with absolute authority.
"My men eliminated him ten minutes ago, which means you have absolutely no backup coming."
I could see Mark's silhouette freeze in the harsh light, his confidence visibly shattering at the news.
"You're lying!" Mark screamed, waving the detonator frantically in the air.
Taking advantage of his panic, Damian signaled to me with a sharp hand gesture we had discussed in the tunnel.
I left the children safely hidden behind the heavy steel container and crept around the back side of the dock.
While Mark was focused entirely on Damian, I silently climbed onto the rear platform of the boat.
My heart hammered painfully in my chest as I picked up a heavy metal wrench from the deck.
I crept up right behind Mark, raising the heavy tool high above my head with shaking hands.
But before I could swing, my wet shoe squeaked loudly against the polished fiberglass deck.
Mark spun around instantly, his eyes widening in shock before a cruel smile spread across his face.
May you like
He lunged forward, grabbing me by the throat and pressing the detonator tightly against my temple.
"Look who decided to join the party," Mark yelled to Damian, pressing his thumb hard against the trigger button.
