Chapter 9
The heavy steel door of the walk-in freezer began to swing shut, its massive hinges protesting with a loud, metallic screech. Leonie realized in an instant what was happening. The mafia boss wasn't going to shoot her. He wasn't going to grant her a quick, merciful death. He was going to deliver a justice so poetic and brutal it defied comprehension.
“No! Donovan, wait!” Leonie shrieked, scrambling forward on her hands and knees, her expensive heels scraping uselessly against the concrete. She lunged toward the closing door, her diamond earrings swinging wildly. “You promised me! You said if I gave you a name—”
“Did I ever promise you mercy, or did you simply assume my wrath had a limit?” Donovan asked, his deep voice slicing through her hysteria as he stood on the warm side of the threshold.
Leonie reached the doorway just as the heavy steel slab closed to a mere six inches. She jammed her hands into the gap, desperately trying to push against Donovan's immense strength. The cold vapor from the freezer swirled around her wrists, her ornate bracelet catching the dim light.
“Please! I'll freeze to death in here! I can't be in here with her!” Leonie screamed, her eyes wide with absolute, primal terror as she looked over her shoulder into the icy dark where Mara's body lay hidden.
“How long did my wife have to suffer in the dark before the ice finally claimed her, Leonie?” Donovan asked, his sharp jaw locked in a mask of unforgiving stone. “Do you think you deserve a warmer fate than the mother of my child?”
With a sudden, violent shove, Donovan applied his full weight against the heavy steel door. Leonie pulled her hands back just in time to avoid having her fingers crushed. The heavy rubber seals connected with a deafening, suctioning thud. The latch clicked into place, locking automatically from the outside.
Donovan stood in the quiet corridor, listening. For a moment, there was nothing but the mechanical hum of the refrigeration unit. Then, the frantic, muffled pounding began. Leonie was screaming, throwing her body against the thick steel, begging for her life. The sound was heavily insulated, barely a whisper in the vast, empty basement.
Donovan reached down and picked up the heavy stainless steel padlock he had tossed onto the floor earlier. He threaded the thick metal shackle through the exterior latch, clicking it securely into place. There would be no escape.
He adjusted his tailored dark vest, shooting his cuffs to ensure his pristine white sleeves were perfectly aligned. The refined tattoos on his hands flexed as he turned his back on the freezer.
Two of his heavily armed personal enforcers burst through the fire doors at the top of the stairs, their weapons drawn, having finally been summoned by the mansion's internal silent alarms. They sprinted down the concrete steps, coming to a halt when they saw their boss standing calmly in the corridor.
“Boss, the guests are cleared. What's the situation?” the lead enforcer asked, eyeing the locked freezer door.
May you like
Donovan looked at his men, his cold, observant eyes entirely pitch black. The mourning period was over. The time for calculated patience had ended.
“Will you place a permanent guard on this door and ensure it is not opened until I return, gentlemen?” Donovan asked. “And will you assemble the strike teams in the armory immediately?”
