Chapter 4 - THE BARREL OF A GUN
The wood splintered with a deafening crack.
The heavy oak door swung violently inward.
Gabriel stood in the doorway.
The shadows of the hallway wrapped around him like a shroud.
In his right hand, a black steel pistol gleamed under the dim light.
The silencer attached to the barrel looked ominous.
My breath hitched.
I stepped backward, shielding Nonna Antonella with my body.
“Put that down, Gabriel,” I choked out.
Gabriel didn't look at me.
His cold, empty gaze was fixed entirely on his grandmother.
“You should have stayed downstairs, Grandmother,” he said softly.
His voice lacked any trace of emotion.
It was the voice of a stranger.
Antonella stepped out from behind me.
She did not cower.
She stood tall, her chin raised with unyielding pride.
“You point a weapon at an old woman in her own home?” she asked steadily.
“You taught me to survive, Grandmother,” Gabriel replied.
He took a slow step forward.
“And you taught me that obstacles must be removed.”
“I made you who you are,” Antonella spat.
“And I can dismantle you just as easily.”
Gabriel raised the pistol slightly.
The laser sight traced a red dot across Antonella's chest.
Panic surged through my veins.
Adrenaline overrode my terror.
Without thinking, I lunged toward the desk.
I grabbed a heavy brass paperweight and hurled it directly at his face.
Gabriel ducked instantly.
The heavy metal clattered harmlessly against the bookshelf.
But the distraction bought us a crucial second.
“Run, Nonna!” I screamed.
Antonella moved with surprising agility, darting toward the adjoining balcony doors.
Gabriel cursed, swinging his aim toward me.
“Claire, don't be a fool!” he shouted.
“You've been playing me for years!” I yelled back, tears burning my eyes.
“You never loved me! You only used me as a shield for your dirty empire!”
He stopped.
Just for a fraction of a second, his expression wavered.
“You don't understand what I built for us,” he muttered.
“You built a prison!” I cried.
From the balcony outside, a sudden noise shattered the tension.
Flashing red and blue lights painted the bedroom ceiling through the sheer curtains.
Sirens wailed in the crisp Chicago night air.
Gabriel's head snapped toward the window.
“You called the police?” he hissed at me.
I didn't answer.
I just smiled through my tears.
Because I knew I hadn't called them.
May you like
Nonna Antonella had.
[CLIFFHANGER: Federal agents swarm the balcony doors, but Gabriel grabs Claire by the throat and presses the gun to her temple as the glass shatters inward.]
