Snapping Point||Book 1

5.

Ottavio's call came through. Something like a glimmer of hope sparked in my core. Perhaps he had succeeded in distracting the men at the control room and doing what I'd asked.

Thirty minutes earlier, I had dialed his number, instructing him to disable the security system for a brief five-minute window. My goal wasn't just to whisk Xenia away from that dreaded execution room unnoticed, but to usher her all the way back to my room within that narrow timeframe.

"It's done, but you've only got three fucking minutes or you're going to get caught," Ottavio's voice hissed through the line. "If you don't get her out of there, I won't know who you are, and I won't know why the cameras failed to capture your exit...If they suspect the glitch and Morelli starts asking questions."

"I'll take care of it," I assured him before abruptly ending the call. With a snap of my fingers, I motioned for Xenia to follow me.

We emerged from the Crypt, and I quickly scanned the surroundings for any unwanted company.

None.

Midnight was approaching, the day's festivities drawing to a close, with all attention turning toward Don Morelli's concluding speech. Soon, the after-party would kick off for those who relished such affairs and had little regard for sleep. My own speech was scheduled in just a few minutes, adding urgency to the task at hand.

I needed to swiftly retrieve Xenia, return to my quarters, and have Ottavio reactivate the security system before it registered me leaving the Crypt and heading to the hall. And about the creating a dead body, I had a different plan for it before the day's end.

I was going to opt for the garden area. A discreet door was there at the back that led to a staircase ascending to the upper hallway. As we made our way to that door, the low murmurs of a few guards reached my ears, prompting me to halt abruptly near the wall of the crypt and pull Xenia back, even though she'd already attempted to duck.

Great survival instincts.

She let out a gasp when her back grazed against the wall, instinctively muffling the sound with her right hand. Her eyes brimmed with apology for the unintentional noise.

I shrugged off my suit and dumped it into her unresponsive grasp. "Stay still," my voice took on a hushed tone, one hand over her mouth, before stepping out into the open where the trio of guards loitered.

One of them clutched a bottle of cheap liquor, another instinctively reached for his gun, while the third swiftly assumed a submissive posture as he recognized my presence.

"Who's guarding the rare entrance into the west wing?" I simply asked.

The guard clutching the bottle, genuinely taken aback by my sudden appearance, stammered nervously, "Uh, it's just me, Honcho," before hastily passing the bottle to his colleague, as if sensing my disapproval. "Any p-problem?"

"You two can leave," my command was addressed to the remaining pair with a snap of my fingers to get their full attention. Pointing back in the direction they had come from, I directed, "Not this way, that," and it prompted them to scurry out of sight, leaving the solitary guard behind with me.

A sinister thought crossed my mind as I observed him standing alone. He could prove useful, considering I needed a body to dispose of from the crypt tonight.

"Unlock the door." I closed the distance between us as he stood there, confusion furrowing his brow. "I said, unlock the door."

"Are you suggesting your you take the rear, sir?"

"And now you're questioning me?"

The guard quickly acquiesced, bowing in submission. "Not at all." Retrieving a set of keys from his pocket, he fumbled through them until he found the right one.