Chapter 4 - NO WAY OUT
“I’m leaving.”
Massimo blocked the doorway with his wheelchair.
“No.”
I stared at him.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Someone broke into my apartment because of you.”
“We don’t know that.”
“There was a bullet on my pillow.”
“That could mean several things.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“Oh, good. I was worried it only meant one terrifying thing.”
“Tessa.”
“Move.”
“If you leave this estate, you become easier to reach.”
“I became a target the second I walked through your door.”
Massimo’s face tightened.
“That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Neither was your accident.”
The words landed hard.
He looked away.
I packed anyway.
Twenty minutes later, Elena came into my room.
She placed an envelope on the bed.
“What’s that?”
“Your tuition.”
I stared at her.
“Massimo paid it this morning.”
My anger sharpened.
“He what?”
“All of it.”
“I didn’t ask him to.”
“I know.”
I stormed downstairs.
Massimo was in his office.
“You paid my tuition?”
He didn’t look up.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You needed it paid.”
“You don’t get to buy me.”
His eyes lifted.
“I wasn’t buying you.”
“Then what do you call fifty thousand dollars plus tuition?”
“Insurance.”
“Against what?”
“You leaving.”
My chest tightened.
He rolled closer.
“You want the truth?”
“Yes.”
“I need you.”
The words sounded painful coming out of his mouth.
Not romantic.
Not soft.
Honest.
“I can’t promise nothing will happen,” he continued. “I can promise nobody gets near you without going through me.”
“That is exactly what scares me.”
He nodded once.
“Fair.”
I sat across from him.
“Who knew about me?”
“Household staff. Security. Camila.”
“And Luca?”
“Yes.”
My mind jumped back to Luca’s smile.
Massimo saw it.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Accuse my brother because you don’t like him.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
That afternoon, we resumed therapy.
Massimo stood for eight seconds.
Then twelve.
Then seventeen.
His knees shook violently.
“Don’t lock them,” I said.
“I know.”
“Then stop doing it.”
“I hate you.”
“Healthy emotional expression. Excellent.”
He almost smiled.
Then the lights went out.
Everything went black.
A second later, the emergency alarm screamed.
Massimo grabbed me.
“Floor.”
“What?”
“Get down.”
The backup lights flickered red.
Gunfire erupted downstairs.
Not one shot.
Dozens.
Men shouted.
Massimo reached beneath his chair and pulled out the gun I had seen once before.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“This happens often?”
“No.”
“That is somehow worse.”
He rolled toward the door.
I grabbed the chair.
“Absolutely not.”
“Stay here.”
“You can barely stand.”
“I can still shoot.”
“That is the dumbest sentence you’ve said all week.”
He looked at me.
“Tessa.”
His voice changed.
Low.
Final.
“Lock the door.”
Then he left.
I lasted eleven seconds.
I followed him.
The hallway smelled like smoke.
One guard lay bleeding near the stairs.
I dropped beside him.
“Pressure wound,” I shouted.
Massimo fired twice down the corridor.
Someone screamed.
I pressed both hands over the guard’s abdomen.
Then I heard footsteps behind me.
I turned.
Luca stood there.
Gun in his hand.
Blood on his shirt.
He looked at Massimo.
Then at me.
“Get away from him.”
Massimo raised his weapon.
“Luca?”
May you like
Luca’s hand tightened around the gun.
And pointed it straight at his brother.
