Chapter 8 - The Brother
Giulietta grabbed Preston by his tie and dragged him into the pantry.
Enzo shut the door.
Warren tried to follow.
A guard blocked him.
Inside, Giulietta slammed Preston against a shelf hard enough to rattle cans.
“You knew Luca was taken.”
“I knew somebody would make sure you behaved.”
“Who?”
Preston smiled.
“You don’t get names because you broke my face.”
Giulietta pressed the barrel of her pistol into the soft space beneath his jaw.
His smile thinned.
“You get one because I’m asking.”
Preston swallowed.
“I never met them.”
“Lie.”
“I got instructions. Same as everybody else.”
“Everybody else?”
He shut his mouth.
Giulietta pushed harder.
“Say it.”
“Keller. My father. Me.”
“Matteo?”
Preston’s eyes shifted.
“That one scares you,” Giulietta said.
“No. You scare me.”
“Good answer. Wrong answer.”
Outside the pantry, Enzo’s radio crackled.
They had a partial trace on the hostage video.
Giulietta lowered the gun.
“Get him dressed.”
Preston blinked.
“What?”
She opened the door.
“We’re getting married.”
Warren stared at her.
Matteo did too.
Giulietta walked straight through them.
“Enzo, tell the officiant ceremony in fifteen minutes. No guests except immediate family and security.”
Matteo caught her arm.
“You cannot be serious.”
She looked at his hand until he removed it.
“I have sixty minutes to keep Luca breathing.”
“You sign that license and Article Seven goes live.”
“Only if the license is real.”
Matteo’s eyes narrowed.
Giulietta turned to Enzo.
“Get me another license. Same paper. Same seals. Wrong registry number.”
Enzo almost smiled.
“Done.”
Matteo leaned closer.
“What are you planning?”
“Finding out who relaxes when I say yes.”
Fifteen minutes later, Giulietta stood at the front of the ballroom in the same white dress, one sleeve torn at the shoulder.
Preston stood across from her with makeup covering the bruise on his cheek.
His wrists were free.
Four guns were aimed at him from different corners.
The officiant’s hands shook around the book.
Warren sat in the first row.
Matteo stood behind Giulietta.
Enzo moved near the service entrance, listening through an earpiece.
The ceremony began.
Preston leaned forward when the officiant looked down.
“You should have listened the first time.”
Giulietta smiled for the room.
“Was that before or after you swung the club?”
“You were supposed to be scared.”
“You’ve always confused fear with obedience.”
His jaw tightened.
The officiant continued.
Preston kept glancing left.
Not toward Warren.
Toward Matteo.
Giulietta watched every glance.
Matteo did not return them.
Enzo touched his earpiece.
Once.
Their signal.
Trace acquired.
Giulietta felt her pulse settle.
The officiant turned to her.
“Giulietta Marconi, do you take Preston Hale—”
She looked directly into Preston’s eyes.
“I do.”
His shoulders dropped half an inch.
Then Giulietta turned her head toward Enzo.
May you like
“Now arrest my uncle.”
