Chapter 2 - The Red Light of Betrayal
The air hissed back into Alejandro Moretti’s lungs with the harsh, violent sound of a dying engine turning back to life.
His massive chest surged upward. The ghost-white hue of his face gave way to a flushed, dark crimson as oxygen flooded his brain. His iron grip on my tiny wrist didn't loosen; if anything, it trembled with the terrifying return of his full, monstrous strength.
"Get... your hands... off her," Alejandro rasped, his voice sounding like grinding stones.
The guard holding my shoulder froze. The man’s face went completely devoid of blood.
"M-Mr. Moretti..." the guard stammered, instantly letting go of me as if my arm were made of white-hot iron. "She—the kid injected you with something! We didn't know—we thought it was a weapon—"
"Shut up, Marcus," Alejandro growled.
Slowly, heavily, the ruler of the city’s dark underworld pushed himself up off the marble floor. Standing at six-foot-four, even disheveled and covered in sweat, he looked like an ancient god of war rising from the underworld.
His dark eyes, cold and lethal, swept across the room. There were four guards in the study. But Alejandro’s gaze did not linger on the spilled wine, nor on the empty plastic syringe lying beside his shoe.
His eyes locked onto the small bookshelf near the fireplace.
There, tucked between two leather-bound encyclopedias, a microscopic lens blinked with a slow, mechanical red light.
It wasn't part of the mansion's standard security system. It was a localized, encrypted hidden feed—one that Alejandro had secretly installed himself three months ago when he first suspected a mole in his inner circle.
"Marcus," Alejandro said softly. The sudden calmness in his tone was far scarier than any roar. "Hand me your phone."
Marcus blinked, sweating profusely. "Sir?"
"Your phone. Now."
With trembling hands, Marcus pulled his secure satellite phone from his tactical vest and handed it over. Alejandro snatched it, unlocked it with a master override code, and accessed the private network stream connected to the hidden bookshelf camera.
The room fell into a silence so thick you could hear the fire crackling in the hearth.
Alejandro pressed play on the recorded loop from five minutes ago.
On the tiny screen, the scene played back in high definition.
When Alejandro had taken the first sip of the vintage cabernet and collapsed to his knees clutching his throat, he hadn't been alone.
The video clearly showed Marcus standing right beside the desk.
In the recording, Marcus didn't rush to help. He didn't call the medical team downstairs. He didn't call for the mansion's doctor. Instead, Marcus had calmly stepped back, folded his arms across his chest, and checked his wristwatch.
On the audio track, the camera picked up Marcus's cold, low whisper as Alejandro suffocated on the rug:
"Ten more seconds, old man... then the empire is ours."
When the video reached the moment little Emma came running in with her pink bunny backpack, Marcus was seen actively stepping into the frame, attempting to block her and delaying her from reaching the dying boss.
Alejandro slowly lowered the phone.
When he looked up, his eyes were pure, unadulterated fire.
"Ten more seconds, Marcus?" Alejandro whispered.
Marcus lost all control. He reached frantically for the sidearm holstered at his hip—
BANG.
Before Marcus’s fingers could even touch his holster, Alejandro had drawn his custom gun from beneath his desk blotter and pulled the trigger.
The heavy gunshot shattered the silence. Marcus collapsed onto the floor, clutching his kneecap and screaming in agony. The other three guards instantly dropped to their knees, hands raised high in the air, trembling in absolute terror.
"Traitor," Alejandro spat, stepping over the pool of blood without a second glance.
He didn't execute Marcus yet. Death would be far too merciful for a man who tried to kill the King of the Moretti family.
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Instead, Alejandro turned his towering frame toward the small, four-year-old girl standing in the middle of the room, clutching a pink stuffed rabbit to her chest.
The terrifying mob boss slowly dropped to one knee, bringing his eyes level with mine.
