Chapter 2
“Get down!”
She threw her full body weight against Victor’s chest.
The sudden attack from the smaller woman caught him completely off guard.
Victor stumbled backward as a rapid series of suppressed shots crossed the room.
The crystal chandelier above the place they had occupied shattered.
Razor-edged glass covered the dance floor.
The champagne tower behind them exploded into foam and flying fragments.
Panic consumed the ballroom.
Women screamed.
Politicians crawled beneath tables.
The orchestra dissolved into falling instruments and terrified movement.
Victor struck the marble with Tessa across his body.
The controlled businessman disappeared instantly, replaced by a man shaped by years of underworld violence.
He did not question her.
Victor rolled and placed Tessa beneath him, shielding her from the falling crystal while searching the room.
Gabriel and the security detail had already drawn their weapons.
They fired toward the kitchen entrance.
Unsuppressed handgun reports shook the high ceiling and filled the ballroom with cordite.
“Stay down!”
Victor seized the collar of Tessa’s uniform and dragged her behind an overturned mahogany banquet table.
Bullets entered the wood above them and covered their bodies with splinters.
Tessa pressed her hands over her ears.
Her breathing became uncontrolled, and tears moved down her face.
She had asked for a conversation, not a war.
Victor removed a silver pistol from an ankle holster and examined its chamber.
Then he looked at the waitress pressed against his side.
She had saved his life.
Without her warning, the gunfire would have torn through his chest.
Victor took her chin and made her face him.
Adrenaline and dangerous heat burned in his eyes.
“Can you run in those cheap shoes?”
Tessa nodded rapidly.
“Good.”
Victor closed his hand around her wrist.
“Your brother’s debt is paid.”
His grip tightened.
“But you belong to me now. Move.”
Gunfire destroyed the remaining crystal above them, sending glittering fragments across the blood-covered marble.
Tessa moved backward while Victor returned fire.
His silver pistol discharged twice.
Both shots were precise.
The false sommelier fell near the catering doors among black fabric and spilled wine.
The assault continued.
Heavy footsteps sounded from the rear corridors as additional gunmen entered through the catering passages.
“The service elevator.”
Tessa pulled desperately on Victor’s damaged jacket.
“It is behind the pastry station and descends directly to the underground loading dock on 55th Street.”
Her voice cracked.
“They will not know it exists.”
Victor did not waste time questioning her.
He placed 1 arm around her waist, almost lifting her from the floor, and drove her into the commercial kitchen.
Stainless-steel preparation tables became temporary cover.
Bullets struck copper cookware and destroyed industrial ovens.
Tessa ran through the kitchen on pure adrenaline.
Her inexpensive slip-resistant shoes moved across olive oil, porcelain fragments, and broken glass.
Years of catering work guided her through the maze.
She reached the freight elevator and struck the metal call button with her palm.
The doors opened with unbearable slowness.
Victor pushed her inside.
He turned and fired 3 additional rounds down the corridor before pressing the basement control with a blood-covered knuckle.
The doors closed and cut off the violence above them.
Silence struck with suffocating weight.
Tessa leaned against the steel wall and slid to the floor.
Her breaths came in torn gasps.
Dirt, grease, and another person’s blood covered her hands.
Victor stood above her and searched her body for gunshot wounds.
When he found none, he removed the empty magazine from his pistol and inserted a new one.
“You know this building unusually well.”
“I work here every weekend.”
Tessa pulled her knees toward her chest.
“I serve people who spend more on 1 bottle of champagne than I earn in an entire year.”
She struggled for breath.
“You learn the quickest ways to disappear.”
“You chose the opposite of disappearing tonight.”
Victor’s voice remained unnaturally composed for a man who had barely escaped assassination.
He removed an encrypted telephone from his pocket.
A bullet graze had shattered the screen.
Victor cursed quietly in Italian and dropped the useless device onto the elevator floor.
The car stopped.
The doors opened onto a dim concrete loading dock.
A black armored Mercedes-AMG G 63 waited near the exit with its engine running.
The driver was collapsed over the steering wheel.
Blood spread across the dashboard.
Victor cursed again.
He dragged the dead man from the vehicle and opened the passenger door for Tessa.
“Get inside and keep your head down.”
She entered the leather cabin.
The air smelled of pine and copper.
Victor took the driver’s seat, shifted into reverse, and spun the tires against the concrete.
Three armed men entered the loading area as the vehicle accelerated toward the exit.
Bullets struck the reinforced windows and created webbed fractures without penetrating the armor.
Victor forced the Mercedes into late-night traffic on Fifth Avenue.
The engine roared as neon lights became blurred streaks.
Tessa gripped the dashboard.
Her heart continued pounding.
She looked toward Victor.
His jaw was tight, his face unreadable, and his knuckles were white around the steering wheel.
He was already planning the retaliation.
“Where are we going?”
“A protected residence.”
Victor’s voice was cold.
“It is a penthouse on Park Avenue held through a dummy corporation.”
He looked toward the road.
“No one knows it exists except my highest-ranking lieutenants.”
“Gabriel Costa.”
The name tasted like ash when Tessa spoke it.
Victor looked at her sharply.
“Gabriel is my underboss. He will meet us there.”
His attention returned to the street.
“Then we will determine which member of the Sullivan family chose to begin a war with my organization tonight.”
Tessa pressed her lower lip between her teeth.
Her analytical mind was working rapidly.
She had spent nights studying difficult financial records and offshore tax structures in an attempt to understand the men controlling Liam’s life.
“Mr. Moretti, the gunmen entered through the kitchen.”
Victor took a sharp, illegal turn onto an empty side street.
“The catering employees undergo background investigations for months before events like this.”
Tessa continued.
“Biometric scanners are used at the staff entrance. The Sullivans could not have walked inside carrying military weapons.”
Victor tightened his hands around the wheel.
“What are you suggesting?”
“Someone with senior authorization allowed them inside.”
Her voice became steadier.
“That person disabled or bypassed the hotel’s security system and knew exactly where you would be sitting.”
Tessa looked toward him.
“You do not have a Sullivan problem.”
She allowed the conclusion to settle.
“You have a traitor.”
Victor said nothing.
He drove the damaged Mercedes into a private underground garage beneath a glass skyscraper.
After stopping the engine, he turned fully toward her inside the dark vehicle.
His eyes searched for fear and deception.
He found fear.
He also found an intelligence he had not expected.
“If you are incorrect,” Victor whispered, leaning close enough for his breath to reach her face, “I will allow Gabriel to deal with your brother personally.”
His eyes remained on hers.
“If you are correct, you may be the most dangerous woman I have encountered.”
High above the city, the Park Avenue penthouse was constructed from glass, steel, and shadow.
Tessa sat on a white leather sofa beneath a thick cashmere blanket Victor had placed around her shoulders.
She continued shivering.
Victor activated a bank of encrypted monitors built into a mahogany desk.
He moved with the precision of a predator inside a confined space.
Victor poured 2 glasses of Macallan 25 and handed 1 to Tessa without speaking.
Footsteps sounded beyond the private elevator.
The steel doors opened.
Gabriel entered.
His suit was disordered, and his flushed face displayed carefully manufactured panic.
“Victor.”
He hurried forward.
“Thank God.”
Gabriel described a coordinated assault.
“The Sullivans attacked 3 of our downtown warehouses while the gala was under fire.”
His breathing appeared strained.
“We need to mobilize the entire family and strike them before dawn.”
Victor stood near the window and rotated the Scotch inside his glass.
He did not face Gabriel.
“Is that so?”
His voice remained quiet.
“A coordinated attack?”
“Yes. They knew our vulnerabilities.”
Gabriel’s gaze moved briefly toward Tessa with open contempt.
May you like
“Why is the waitress still alive?”
His lip curled.
