Chapter 11 - THE FINAL SHOWDOWN
Before Preston’s finger could squeeze the trigger of the shotgun, Harper lunged forward from the floor with the speed and ferocity of a striking viper.
She slammed her body directly into Preston’s legs, knocking the heavy weapon upward just as it discharged.
*Boom!*
The shotgun blast shredded the crystal chandelier above them, sending a blinding rain of glass shards cascading down across the room.
Preston cursed loudly, stumbling backward over the mahogany table, gasping for breath as Harper pinned his arms against the floor.
"Enzo! Shoot him!" Harper screamed, struggling to keep the older man pinned beneath her despite his frantic thrashing.
Enzo stood frozen for a fraction of a second, his mind racing through the betrayal, the audio file, the scars, and the desperate look in Harper’s eyes.
Then, with a cold, decisive snap of his resolve, Enzo raised his Beretta—and aimed it straight at Preston Whitcomb’s head.
"It ends tonight, Preston," Enzo said, his voice echoing with absolute finality.
Preston stopped struggling, a wicked, bloody grin spreading across his face as he looked up at the mafia boss.
"You think killing me solves anything, boy?" Preston spat blood onto the polished floor.
"The syndicate has already replaced me. Even if I die, the contracts are signed, the money is moving, and Harper is the sole heir to the entire operation."
Enzo’s eyes narrowed. He looked down at Harper, who was staring up at him with tears streaming through the soot on her face.
"Is that true?" Enzo demanded.
"Yes," Harper gasped, holding Preston down with all her remaining strength.
"And that’s why I have to die too, isn't it, Father?" she whispered, looking down at the man who had tortured her for most of her life.
Preston laughed maniacally. "You were always my greatest investment, daughter. A pity you turned out to be such a disappointment."
With a sudden, violent roar of fury, Enzo didn't shoot Preston.
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Instead, he stepped forward, grabbed Preston by the collar of his suit, and hurled him bodily through the floor-to-ceiling glass window overlooking Lake Michigan.
The sound of shattering glass drowned out Preston’s final, terrified scream as he plunged through the freezing night air into the dark abyss below.
