Chapter 9 - THE MAN BEHIND THE SERVICE DOOR
The man wore a black jacket.
His face was unfamiliar.
He carried a flashlight.
And a gun.
I froze.
He looked at me.
Then smiled.
"Well."
My stomach dropped.
"You're not supposed to be here."
I backed away.
He stepped forward.
"Where's Moretti?"
I shook my head.
"I don't know."
He laughed.
"Wrong answer."
I turned and ran.
Bare feet slapped against marble.
The man shouted.
I reached the guest suite.
Fumbled with the handle.
Locked the door.
Then pushed a heavy chair beneath it.
My hands shook so badly I could barely hold my phone.
I called emergency services.
Gave the estate address.
Told the dispatcher there were armed intruders.
Then I called Marco.
No answer.
Adrian.
No answer.
The door handle moved.
Once.
Twice.
Then someone struck the wood.
I backed toward the window.
The man shouted:
"Open it!"
I didn't answer.
Another blow.
The chair shifted.
I looked around desperately.
Then noticed the fireplace.
The poker.
The same kind of brass poker I'd carried outside Adrian's room.
I grabbed it.
The door cracked.
Wood splintered.
The man forced his way inside.
I screamed.
He raised the gun.
Before he could aim, I swung the poker at his wrist.
The weapon fell.
He cursed.
I ran toward the hallway.
He grabbed my shoulder.
Then another voice roared:
"GET AWAY FROM HER!"
Adrian.
He struck the intruder, forcing him backward.
Marco appeared seconds later.
The man was restrained.
I collapsed against the wall.
Adrian knelt beside me.
"Claire."
I couldn't speak.
He took my shaking hands.
"Look at me."
Tears streamed down my face.
"You're safe."
I shook my head.
"Dean—"
"He's been detained."
I stared.
"Really?"
Adrian nodded.
"Yes."
Then he pulled me gently into his arms.
May you like
And for the first time since entering the Moretti estate, I allowed myself to believe the nightmare might end.
But the worst betrayal was still waiting downstairs.
