Chapter 10 - The Blackout at Moretti MansionDante called Teresa three times.
No answer.
He called the security desk.
Nothing.
For the first time since I'd met him, the most feared man on Long Island looked genuinely helpless.
We raced through the tunnels toward the mansion. Miguel moved ahead with the confidence of someone who knew every bend and hidden door. Dante followed, issuing orders over his phone.
I ran behind them, my lungs burning.
All I could see was the photograph of Sophie.
Her small legs dangled from the ballroom chair. Her hands were folded in her lap, and her expression was calm enough to suggest she didn't yet understand the danger surrounding her.
That was what terrified me most.
She still believed grown-ups would come when she called.
When we reached the mansion, the ballroom was alive with music.
Guests in black tie and evening gowns filled the room. Waiters carried trays of champagne. A string quartet played beneath a chandelier large enough to pay my rent for a decade.
Nobody seemed to realize that the estate was under attack.
Dante straightened his jacket.
“Stay close.”
Miguel took a side entrance toward the kitchens.
I followed Dante into the ballroom.
Victor stood near the head table, smiling as he greeted guests. Rourke stood beside him, wearing the same charcoal uniform I'd seen in the study.
Teresa was nowhere to be seen.
Neither was Sophie.
I pushed past a group of guests.
“Where is my daughter?”
Victor turned, his smile widening.
“Isabel. How lovely to see you.”
“Where is she?”
He glanced toward the staircase.
“Somewhere safe.”
Dante raised his voice.
“Lock the doors.”
The music stopped.
Guards appeared at the ballroom entrances, but none moved until Rourke gave a subtle nod.
Then they blocked the exits.
Victor took a microphone from the table.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I'm afraid we have a small family matter to resolve.”
Dante stepped forward.
“You're finished, Victor.”
Victor chuckled.
“You always were your father's least practical son.”
He signaled toward the ceiling.
The lights went out.
Screams erupted around the ballroom.
A crash sounded near the stage. Someone fired a weapon. Guests rushed toward the exits, only to find them locked.
I dropped behind a table.
“Dante!”
“Stay down!”
Emergency lighting flickered on, painting the ballroom in dim red.
Rourke had disappeared.
Victor remained at the head table, calm amid the chaos. He held a small remote in his hand.
“Your father understood something you never learned, Dante,” he said. “Power isn't about being feared. It's about knowing what everyone is afraid to lose.”
He pressed the button.
A screen descended behind him.
A live video appeared.
Sophie sat in a chair inside a stone room, her eyes wide but dry. Teresa knelt beside her, one hand resting protectively on the child's shoulder.
Behind them stood Rourke.
He held a pistol against Teresa's back.
My entire world narrowed to that screen.
Victor smiled.
“Now, Isabel. Please remove the pendant.”
I touched the silver star beneath my collar.
“You want it? Come and take it.”
“No.”
Victor's smile vanished.
“I want you to understand that your daughter's safety depends entirely on your cooperation.”
The screen changed.
A second camera showed a narrow room with a metal table. On the table lay several photographs, bank documents, and a pistol.
Then Rourke stepped into view.
He picked up one photograph and held it toward the camera.
Miguel stood beside me on our wedding day.
Victor's voice filled the ballroom.
“Your husband made a very expensive mistake. Tonight, you have the opportunity to correct it.”
He looked directly into the camera.
“Give me the star, Isabel, or I will make your daughter's father disappear a second time.”
Behind the screen, one of the ballroom doors creaked open.
A voice spoke from the darkness.
“You can try.”
May you like
Miguel emerged into the red light.
And every gun in the room turned toward him.
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