Chapter 6 – THE SEAMSTRESS’S GAMBIT

The alley behind the hotel was pitch black, smelling of damp brick and old rain. I stepped out of the service elevator, my heavy coat wrapped tight, gripping the cast-iron shears in my pocket.

A black sedan idled in the shadows.

The back door opened, and Bianca stepped out. She held a small silver handgun, aiming it directly at my chest.

“Where is the brat?” Bianca demanded, peering behind me.

“I didn’t bring her,” I said firmly.

Bianca sneered, raising the gun higher. “Then you just killed your boss.”

“You don’t have him,” I bluffed, though my heart was pounding out of my chest. “Giovanni told me you were greedy, Bianca, but not stupid. If Marcus kills Giovanni, Marcus takes the empire. You get nothing. You’re only out here because Marcus sent you to do his dirty work.”

Bianca’s hand trembled slightly. I had struck a nerve.

“Shut up,” she hissed.

“Marcus used you,” I pressed, taking a slow step forward. “He used you to control Teresa, and now he’s using you to kidnap a child. When this is over, do you really think he’ll leave a witness like you alive?”

For a split second, Bianca glanced back at the driver in the sedan. Doubt flickered in her eyes.

It was all the time I needed.

I pulled the heavy cast-iron shears from my pocket and threw them with all my might. They spun through the air and struck Bianca squarely in the wrist.

She screamed, dropping the gun as the heavy metal cracked against her bone.

I lunged forward, kicking the gun into the storm drain before the driver could react.

The car door flew open, and a massive man in a suit stepped out. I braced myself, knowing I couldn’t fight him.

But suddenly, the screech of tires echoed down the alley. Two black SUVs slammed into the ends of the alleyway, blocking the sedan. Men poured out, weapons drawn.

And from the lead vehicle stepped Giovanni.

He was bruised, a cut bleeding over his left eye, but he was very much alive.

Bianca fell to her knees, clutching her wrist, her face pale with terror as Giovanni walked toward her.

“Giovanni!” she sobbed. “They made me! Marcus forced me!”

Giovanni looked down at her with absolute disgust. “Marcus is currently having a long conversation with the police about an illegal warehouse operation. My men found him before he found me.”

He turned to the driver of the sedan, who immediately raised his hands in surrender.

Giovanni knelt in front of Bianca. “You’re done in Chicago. If I ever see you near my family again, I won’t be so forgiving.”

He stood up and walked over to me. He looked at my shaking hands, then gently wrapped his coat around my shoulders.

“I told you not to leave the room, Claire.”

“You told me to use the charity account,” I replied, finding a weak smile. “I decided I’d rather keep my boss.”

He smiled back, a genuine, warm expression I hadn’t seen in two years. He reached into his pocket and handed me the small red patch of fabric.

“I brought it back.”

But as we turned to head inside, a gunshot rang out.

Giovanni gasped, stumbling forward into my arms.

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