Chapter 7 - The Glass Cage
The call clicked dead, leaving a hollow, echoing buzz in the cramped room.
Emma felt the floor drop out from beneath her feet. The blanket slipped from her shoulders, pooling around her bare feet. ""My... mother?"" she whispered, her voice barely audible. ""You told me she died seven years ago.""
Julian stared at the dead phone, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the casing. A terrible, dark storm swept across his face—a rare crack in the armor of a man who had controlled New York’s underworld with ruthless precision.
""She was supposed to be dead,"" Julian said, his voice dropping an octave, cold and dangerous. ""I watched the car burn on the coastal highway outside Naples. I buried the ashes myself.""
""Who was she?"" Emma demanded, grabbing the front of his sweater, her hazel eyes blazing with sudden, furious tears. ""Tell me! Stop speaking in riddles, Julian! Who am I?""
Julian didn't pull away. He looked down at her hands gripping his shirt, his jaw ticking. ""Her name is Helena Donati. Victoria's older sister. And the reigning head of the Donati family.""
Emma let go of him, stumbling backward until her spine hit the brick wall. The pieces aligned in her mind like falling dominoes, each one more horrifying than the last. ""Victoria isn't doing this for herself. She's working for my mother.""
""Helena never wanted an heir,"" Julian said grimly, walking to the locker and pulling out two heavy tactical handguns, checking their magazines with practiced clicks. ""A legitimate daughter meant the Donati family wealth would be legally split under the old Sicilian council laws. Cesare took you to protect you, but also to hold leverage over Helena. When Cesare died, Helena assumed you were dead too. Until Salvatore opened his mouth.""
Before Emma could process the revelation, a low, metallic scraping sound echoed from the tunnel outside the switching room door.
Julian froze. He killed the tactical flashlight with a flick of his thumb, plunging the room into absolute shadow.
He moved silently across the concrete, pressing his back against the wall beside the heavy iron door, raising the Glock. Emma ducked behind the steel footlocker, holding her breath, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs.
Through the rusted ventilation grate above the door, a small cylindrical canister dropped into the room with a sharp clink.
""Gas!"" Julian yelled.
White, dense smoke erupted from the canister, hissing violently. Emma clamped her hands over her mouth and nose, but the acrid chemical burned her eyes instantly, turning her lungs to fire.
The heavy iron door was blown off its hinges by a hydraulic ram, slamming into the room with deafening force. Julian fired blindly into the doorway, the muzzle flashes cutting through the thick smoke, but a heavy stun baton caught him across the temple, driving him to his knees.
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Three men in black tactical gear surged into the room. Emma lunged forward, trying to grab Julian’s fallen gun, but a gloved hand grabbed her hair, jerking her head back violently. A cold needle slid into the side of her neck.
The world tilted on its axis. The sound of Julian shouting her name grew distorted, echoing as if from the bottom of an ocean, before blackness consumed her completely.
