Chapter 3 - The Broken Flour Jar
Elena clamped a hand over Mia's mouth and backed away from the open door.
She could hear heavy footsteps moving across the squeaky floorboards of her apartment.
The sound of shattering glass echoed from the kitchen.
They were tearing the place apart.
Elena turned to run toward the stairwell, but a massive hand grabbed her shoulder from behind.
A man with a thick neck and a Russian tattoo on his throat shoved her violently against the wall.
Mia started to cry, terrified by the sudden violence.
"Where is the ledger, little bird?" the Russian growled, pressing a heavy pistol into Elena's ribs.
"I don't know what you are talking about," Elena sobbed, shielding Mia with her body.
The man smiled, revealing a row of silver teeth.
"Your dead husband stole two million dollars from my boss."
"If you don't give us the ledger, we will take the child as payment."
The Russian reached out and grabbed Mia's arm, yanking her away from Elena.
Elena screamed and clawed at the man's face, but he threw her to the ground.
Suddenly, a deafening gunshot echoed through the narrow hallway.
The Russian stiffened, his eyes going wide with shock, before collapsing onto the dirty linoleum floor.
Standing at the top of the stairs was Adrian Moretti.
His expensive suit was perfectly pressed, and a suppressed pistol was gripped tightly in his hand.
He didn't look at the dead man on the floor.
His dark eyes were locked entirely on Mia, who was sitting on the ground, crying silently.
Adrian walked forward and knelt down, picking the little girl up in his strong arms.
"I told you not to leave the estate, Elena," Adrian said, his voice terrifyingly calm.
Elena scrambled to her feet, her whole body shaking with adrenaline.
"They were looking for a ledger," Elena choked out.
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
He stepped over the dead body and walked straight into Elena's ruined kitchen.
The flour container was smashed on the floor, white powder covering the cheap tiles.
But the secret compartment behind the cabinet was still perfectly intact.
Adrian reached his hand into the hidden space and pulled out a thick, leather-bound notebook.
He flipped it open, and his expression turned instantly deadly.
"What is it?" Elena asked, terrified of the look in his eyes.
Adrian slowly closed the book and looked at her.
"It is a kill list," Adrian whispered.
"And your husband's name isn't on it."
Adrian turned the book around so Elena could see the gold initials stamped on the cover.
May you like
"It's his notebook, Elena."
"Your husband was the hitman."
