Chapter 6 - The Traitor's Trap
Serena stepped in front of Valentina instinctively, her body shielding the matriarch from the barrel of Celeste’s gun. The freezing winter wind rushed into the penthouse through the broken glass doors, swirling snow around their ankles as the flashlight beams cut through the gloom.
"Leave her alone, Celeste," Serena said, her voice cold and unyielding despite the panic clawing at her throat. "Your fight is with me. Valentina has nothing to do with your pride."
Celeste stepped closer, her designer boots clicking sharply on the glass-covered marble floor. She lifted the gun, pressing the cold metal barrel directly against Serena’s forehead. "Valentina has everything to do with it! She looked at me like I was dirt for four years, but the moment you walked in with your cheap soup, she treated you like a daughter! You both think you're so holy, so pure... let's see how pure you look when your blood is drying on this pretty white floor."
"You are a pathetic creature, Celeste," Valentina spoke up from behind Serena, her voice dripping with an ancient, Sicilian disdain. "You think a crown makes a queen. A queen is defined by what she can survive, not what she can buy. You have always been nothing but a expensive parasite."
Celeste’s face twisted in rage, her knuckles whitening around the trigger. "Shut up, old woman! I should kill you right now!"
"If you kill us here, you have no leverage," Serena cut in quickly, trying to buy every second she could. She knew Dante. She knew he wouldn't die easily at the rail yard. He had to be alive. "You brought these men because Marcus wanted me as a hostage to ensure Dante’s surrender if he survives the ambush. If you kill us now, Marcus will kill you for destroying his leverage."
One of the Vanguard soldiers behind Celeste stepped forward, his flashlight beam shifting uncomfortably. "The girl is right, Ms. Bowmont. Boss Vance explicitly said to bring the women alive to the warehouse downtown. We don't have time for a bloodbath here; the feds are already monitoring the sector due to the power outage."
Celeste ground her teeth together, the insanity in her eyes battling with her cold calculation. Slowly, she lowered the gun from Serena’s forehead, but she didn't smile.
"Tie them up," Celeste ordered the men. "And drag them downstairs through the service elevator. We're going to the warehouse. Let's see how long Dante Moretti fights when he sees his precious maid hanging from a meat hook."
Ten minutes later, Serena and Valentina were shoved into the back of a dark utility van, their hands bound tightly with heavy plastic zip-ties. The van sped away into the blinding Chicago blizzard, leaving the beautiful, ruined penthouse behind.
Inside the dark vehicle, Serena leaned her head against Valentina’s shoulder, her fingers working frantically against the plastic ties. She had a small, sharp piece of wire hidden in her pocket—something she had picked up from the broken photo frame in the library before the lights went out.
"Are you okay, Valentina?" Serena whispered into the darkness.
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"I am fine, child," the old woman murmured back, her breath hitching slightly from the cold. "Do not worry about me. Focus on the ties. My son is coming. I can feel his heartbeat in the city. He is alive."
Serena closed her eyes, her fingers bleeding as she scraped them against the sharp wire, desperately trying to friction-cut through the thick plastic. Hold on, Dante, she thought. Please, just hold on.
