Chapter 12 - The Stand in the Bedroom|
CRACK!
The balcony glass shattered inward, showering the hardwood floor in glittering shards.
Dominic Marconi stepped into the bedroom, a heavy suppressed pistol in his gloved hand. He was fifty-five years old, with silvering hair, cold gray eyes, and a face hardened by decades of ruthless corporate backstabbing.
"Hello, little girl," Dominic Marconi sneered, ignoring me completely as he stepped toward the bed. "Your father ruined my family's legacy today. It's time to settle the account."
I didn't think. I grabbed a heavy brass floor lamp from beside the armchair and swung it with all my strength.
CLANG!
The heavy metal base struck Marconi across his forearm, knocking his gun sideways.
"You stupid bitch!" Marconi roared, turning his fury on me and backhanding me across the face with his heavy gloved fist.
The force of the strike sent me crashing to the floor, pain exploding across my cheek, blood tasting warm in my mouth.
Sophie screamed—a high, soundless gasp of terror—as she scrambled off the bed, trying to throw her small body over mine to protect me.
Marconi grabbed me by my hair, dragging me up, pressing his heavy gun barrel under my chin. "Where is the journal?"
"Go to hell," I spat, blood dripping from my lip.
May you like
Before Marconi could pull the trigger, a dark figure vaulted through the shattered balcony door behind him.
Gabriel.
