Chapter 13 - The Last Twenty-Four Hours
The wedding morning arrived beneath a flawless blue sky.
The estate filled with flowers.
Caterers.
Musicians.
Security.
Politicians.
Businessmen.
Family associates.
People who believed they were attending the marriage of Massimo Rinaldi and Camille Ashwood.
Very few understood they were entering a courtroom without a judge.
Massimo dressed alone.
Black tuxedo.
White shirt.
No vest.
His cane remained hidden behind the wardrobe.
The wheelchair waited beside the bed.
Massimo stared at it.
For months, he had hated the chair.
Now he ran one hand across the leather.
It had kept him alive.
Had he recovered quickly and revealed it, Dean might have killed him immediately.
The thing he thought represented weakness had become protection.
Massimo sat down.
Luca entered.
“Everyone’s in place.”
“Hale?”
“Statement secured.”
“Marco?”
“Secured.”
“Financial files?”
“Samuel has three copies.”
“Authorities?”
Luca hesitated.
“Ready.”
Massimo looked at him.
That had been the most difficult choice.
For generations, Rinaldis handled their own problems.
Police were enemies.
Prosecutors were obstacles.
Law belonged to other people.
Massimo had decided the old rule ended today.
Evidence involving attempted murder, financial fraud, and conspiracy had been forwarded through Samuel to investigators.
It would cost the Rinaldi organization dearly.
Some of Massimo’s own operations would be exposed.
So be it.
An empire that required protecting Dean and Camille’s crimes deserved to lose pieces of itself.
“What about Nina?”
“With Carla.”
“No exceptions.”
“None.”
Massimo nodded.
Luca did not leave.
“What?”
Massimo asked.
“You know half the council may turn against you after this.”
“Yes.”
“The old crews won’t accept restructuring.”
“I know.”
“You could lose everything.”
Massimo looked at the wheelchair.
“No.”
His voice was quiet.
“I almost lost everything.”
“There’s a difference.”
Downstairs, Camille stood beneath a crystal chandelier wearing a custom white gown.
She looked breathtaking.
That irritated Massimo more than it should have.
Nathan kissed her cheek.
“After today, it’s finished.”
Camille whispered.
“It should have been finished six months ago.”
“You wanted him alive.”
“I wanted control.”
Nathan looked toward the staircase.
“And now?”
Camille’s expression became cold.
“Now I want both.”
Neither noticed the tiny microphone hidden beneath the flower arrangement.
Luca heard every word.
So did Massimo.
Then another call arrived.
Unknown number.
Dean.
Massimo answered privately.
“You’re late.”
Dean laughed.
“You sound confident.”
“I’m getting married.”
“You’re getting buried.”
Massimo looked through the window.
“Where are you?”
“Close.”
“You sound wet.”
Dean laughed again.
“I always told you I was hard to kill.”
“You also told me you were loyal.”
Silence.
Then Dean’s voice became colder.
“Camille plans to hand me over.”
“I know.”
“She thinks marrying you saves her family.”
“I know.”
“She thinks you die tonight.”
“I know.”
Dean paused.
“What don’t you know?”
Massimo smiled faintly.
“You.”
Dean breathed slowly.
“Then here’s something.”
“I have six men inside your security rotation.”
Massimo’s eyes sharpened.
“The moment Camille signs the trust documents, I take the estate.”
“Camille dies.”
“Nathan dies.”
“You die.”
“And I walk away with what should have been mine twelve years ago.”
Massimo looked at Luca.
Luca immediately began checking the security roster.
Massimo said calmly.
“You always wanted people to remember your name.”
Dean replied.
“They will.”
The call ended.
Luca turned pale.
“He’s telling the truth.”
“Six guards have personnel files added after the ambush.”
“Dean hired all of them.”
Massimo checked the clock.
Guests were already arriving.
They had ninety minutes.
“Remove them.”
“We pull them now, Dean knows.”
“Then replace their ammunition.”
Luca stared.
Massimo clarified.
“Nonfunctional training magazines.”
Luca almost smiled.
“You want them to discover it when they try something.”
“Yes.”
“That’s cruel.”
Massimo looked at him.
“I’m recovering.”
At four thirty, music began.
The great doors opened.
Camille walked down the aisle.
Massimo waited near the altar in his wheelchair.
Hundreds of people turned to watch.
Camille smiled at him.
Massimo smiled back.
No one in the room knew that law enforcement vehicles were already positioned beyond the outer estate road.
No one knew the groom could stand.
No one knew the bride had watched him get shot six months earlier.
And no one knew Dean Foster had entered the mansion through the kitchen dressed as one of the catering staff.
Except Nina.
From an upstairs window, she saw him crossing the courtyard.
She grabbed Carla’s hand.
“Mommy.”
“What?”
Nina pointed.
“That’s Uncle Dean.”
Carla looked down.
Her blood went cold.
Dean was not heading toward the ballroom.
May you like
He was heading toward the estate’s electrical control room.
And in his hand was the same red access key Nina had seen once before.
