Chapter 10
The two capos moved with brutal, efficient speed. They hauled Warren and Preston to their feet, spinning them around and securing their wrists tightly behind their backs with thick, plastic restraints. Preston wept openly, his tears soaking the collar of his dress shirt, while Warren stared blankly at the floor, a completely broken man.
"You're a monster, Giulietta," Preston sobbed as Marco shoved him toward the doorway. "You're a cold-blooded monster."
"I am exactly what you tried to make me," Giulietta replied smoothly, not even turning her head to watch them leave. "Goodbye, Preston."
The heavy mahogany door clicked shut behind them. The bridal suite was finally empty, save for Giulietta.
The bright, cinematic colors of the room seemed to breathe again. She stood alone in the sunlight, the heavy silk of her wedding gown draping perfectly around her. She walked over to the vanity, her fair, rosy skin glowing in the reflection of the mirror. She picked up her massive diamond engagement ring from the glass surface.
She didn't put it back on. She simply dropped it into the small wastebasket beside the table.
Giulietta took a deep breath, relishing the absolute power she now wielded. The Hale family was gone. The Marconi syndicate was stronger than ever. It was a perfect victory.
But as she reached up to adjust her diamond earrings, preparing to go downstairs and inform the guests that the wedding was canceled, the silence of the suite was suddenly broken.
A sharp, harsh buzzing sound echoed from the corner of the room.
Giulietta frowned, turning her head. The sound was coming from the pocket of Preston’s suit jacket, which he had left draped over the back of a chair earlier that morning. She walked over, her instincts flaring, and reached into the pocket. She pulled out a sleek, black, encrypted smartphone.
The screen was glowing brightly. It was an incoming call. The caller ID was a single word, typed in Cyrillic letters.
Volkov.
Giulietta stared at the name. The Russian syndicate. The men who Warren and Preston owed sixty million dollars. The men they had planned to sell her to.
She knew she shouldn't answer it. She had the confessions; the FBI was already on their way. Her family was secure. But the blood of a Mafia boss ran deep in her veins, demanding absolute control.
Giulietta pressed the green button and raised the phone to her ear. She did not say a word.
"Warren," a deep, heavily accented voice rumbled through the speaker, chilling the air in the bright room. "We are waiting at the service entrance. Bring the bride downstairs. Now. Or we come up and kill everyone in the ballroom."
Giulietta’s eyes widened slightly, her breath catching in her throat. The Hales hadn't just promised her to the Russians in the future. The Russians were already here.
The line went dead.
May you like
Giulietta slowly lowered the phone. She looked at the locked mahogany door, listening closely. Beneath the faint sounds of the city, she could hear heavy, unfamiliar footsteps echoing in the hallway outside.
The wedding was canceled. But the war had just begun.
