Chapter 6 – [THE TRAITOR’S STAND]

Matteo’s hand did not shake. The gun was leveled perfectly at Vanessa’s forehead.

“Matteo, don’t be stupid,” Vanessa hissed, though I could see the panic rising in her eyes. “My men are right outside.”

“Your men work for whoever pays them,” Matteo replied, his voice eerily calm. “And Dante just proved your family is bankrupt and built on a foundation of FBI informants. You have nothing.”

For a split second, I thought Matteo was actually redeeming himself. I thought he was protecting me. Protecting Leo.

But then Matteo turned his head slightly, just enough to look at Dante.

“Give me the paper, brother,” Matteo said.

Dante’s eyes narrowed. “So you can use it to blackmail her father yourself? You’re still trying to take the throne.”

“I am the throne,” Matteo snapped. “I kept this family afloat while you were playing dead. I made the hard choices. Hand it over, or I let Vanessa shoot her.” He gestured toward me.

My stomach plummeted. He wasn’t protecting me. He was using my life as a bargaining chip against his own brother.

Rosa let out a sound of pure disgust. “You are no grandson of mine.”

Leo whimpered into my leg, and I pulled him closer, covering his ears.

“You won’t let her shoot Claire,” Dante said, testing him. “Because if Claire dies, the Tuscany deed stays locked in probate for years. You get nothing.”

Matteo’s jaw clenched. He knew Dante was right.

In that moment of hesitation, Vanessa made her move. She didn’t shoot Matteo. She spun around and aimed at the ceiling, pulling the trigger.

The gunshot was deafening. Crystal shattered above us, raining down on the dining table. The relatives screamed, scrambling under the heavy oak table for cover.

In the chaos, Vanessa lunged for the foyer.

“Stop her!” Dante yelled.

But Vanessa was fast. She grabbed Rosa’s wheelchair by the handles, yanked it backward, and jammed the barrel of her gun against the old woman’s temple.

“Nobody moves!” Vanessa shrieked.

The room froze. I felt the air leave my lungs.

“Let her go,” I begged, stepping forward.

“Back up, Claire,” Vanessa ordered. She looked at Dante. “The paper. Now. Or I paint the floor with your grandmother.”

Rosa sat perfectly still. She didn’t look afraid. She looked annoyed.

“Vanessa,” Rosa said calmly. “Do you know why I wear this heavy gold bracelet?”

Vanessa blinked, confused by the question. “Shut up.”

“My husband gave it to me fifty years ago,” Rosa continued, raising her left wrist slowly. “He said a woman in our world should always have a backup plan.”

Before anyone could react, Rosa pressed a hidden clasp on the bracelet.

A sharp, three-inch steel blade snapped out from the gold band.

With blinding speed, the eighty-two-year-old woman drove the blade directly into Vanessa’s thigh.

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