Chapter 5 - Blood on the Velvet Carpet
Panic hit the Saint Regis ballroom like a tidal wave.
Screams from socialites and dignitaries echoed against the vaulted ceilings as darkness swallowed the room.
Then came the muffled, pneumatic hiss of suppressed gunfire.
A stray round shattered a champagne pyramid three feet from Matteo’s head, showering them in vintage sparkling wine.
Matteo felt a hand seize his collar with ferocious power and jerk him down behind a solid mahogany pillar.
""Stay low,"" Mia’s voice cut through the chaos, steady as a heartbeat.
""Where are my father's men?"" Matteo shouted over the rising din of stampeding guests.
""Scattered or neutralized,"" Mia said.
She moved without a shred of the clumsiness that had defined her first day.
In the shadows, she was completely in her element.
Two figures rounded the pillar, tactical flashlights stroking through the smoke.
Mia surged upward from the floor like a striking viper.
She didn't use a gun.
She drove her elbow into the first attacker's throat, crushing his windpipe before he could raise his weapon.
As he collapsed, she snatched his suppressed pistol from his grip with one fluid rotation of her wrist.
The second shooter swung his rifle toward her.
Mia stepped inside the arc of his barrel, drove the heel of her palm upward into his nose, and fired twice into his center mass.
Both men were on the floor in under three seconds.
Matteo watched in stunned silence from the floor tiles.
""Get up,"" she commanded, hauling him to his feet.
""We need the service kitchen.""
They sprinted through the darkness along the edge of the ballroom.
Another muzzle flash bloomed near the kitchen swinging doors.
Mia didn't hesitate.
She shoved Matteo behind an overturned serving cart and threw her own body across his chest.
A high-caliber round tore through the velvet drapery, grazing Mia’s left shoulder.
A sharp gasp escaped her teeth as the impact ripped through silk and flesh.
Warm blood soaked immediately into the emerald fabric.
""You're hit!"" Matteo said, his voice cracking with genuine panic.
""It's a flesh wound,"" she hissed, gritting her teeth against the blinding pain.
""Keep moving!""
She raised her weapon and fired three suppressive rounds into the doorway.
The shooter collapsed backward into the industrial prep area.
Mia shoved Matteo through the double doors into the stainless-steel maze of the hotel kitchen.
Behind them, heavy boots were already pounding across the marble floor.
Lorenzo’s voice could be heard shouting orders from the far side of the ballroom, surrounded by his remaining loyalists.
""We can't go back to my father,"" Matteo said, breathing heavily as he held Mia’s waist to steady her.
""Your father's house is compromised,"" Mia agreed, pressing a clean kitchen towel against her bleeding shoulder.
""Marco was coordinating this from the inside.""
""If we go to the estate, you will be dead before sunrise.""
""Where do we go?"" Matteo asked, looking at her with wide, unsettled eyes.
""I have a safehouse,"" she said.
""No records.""
""No agency contracts.""
May you like
""No Duca money.""
She kicked open the rear loading dock door, dragging him out into the freezing midnight rain of the alleyway.
