Isabella POV
The acrid smell of burning velvet and wood filled my lungs, but the choking smoke was my salvation. Down the hall, the heavy boots of Marshall Soldiers thundered against the floorboards, their shouts echoing through the estate as the fire alarm finally wailed. The chloral hydrate still pulled at my limbs like a dark tide, but the pure, unadulterated adrenaline of my Vendetta kept me moving.
I slipped past the chaos, pressing my back against the cold plaster of the servant's corridor. I knew exactly where they would hide her.
The storage closet at the end of the hall was locked, but the cheap mechanism was no match for the heavy silver hairpin I pulled from my messy updo. A sharp twist, a satisfying click, and I pushed the door open.
The stench of mothballs and dust hit me. In the dim light, Adrienne was bound to a chair, a filthy rag shoved into her mouth. Her eyes, wide with sheer terror, flooded with tears the second she saw me.
I dropped to my knees, my fingers working frantically at the coarse ropes. "I've got you," I whispered, pulling the gag from her mouth.
Adrienne gasped for air, her whole body trembling. "Signorina... thank God. They drugged you. Adina and Donna Carmella... they planned it all."
"I know," I said, helping her to her feet. "But I need to know the rest. Why Hoy Casey?"
"The bootlegging routes," Adrienne sobbed, clinging to my arm. "The Marshalls are losing the turf war. Carmella promised the Irishman the western smuggling channels if he played along. They were going to let him have you in the secluded guest room, then send the guards in to catch you. Treason. They wanted you dead and your trust fund in their pockets."
A cold, hollow laugh threatened to escape my throat. My husband, Alistair, and his family were willing to sell my life to a rival boss just to secure a liquor route and a diamond necklace.
"Where is the room?" I asked, my voice devoid of any warmth.
"The east wing. Room four," she stammered.
"Good." I turned toward the dormant fireplace in the servant's quarters and picked up a heavy, solid brass poker. The metal was freezing against my palm. "Stay behind me."
We moved swiftly through the shadows. The fire in my suite had drawn everyone to the west wing, leaving the east corridors eerily deserted. Just as we neared the intersection, hurried footsteps and panicked cursing broke the silence.
"The fire wasn't part of the plan! If she burns to death before Casey gets to her, the deal is off!" Adina's shrill voice echoed, followed by the frantic scurrying of Carla, the rat.
I pressed myself against the alcove, gripping the brass poker with both hands. As Carla rounded the corner first, her eyes darting nervously, I stepped out of the darkness.
I didn't hesitate. I swung the heavy brass rod, catching Carla squarely on the back of her neck. A sickening crack echoed, and she crumpled to the floor like a broken doll, out cold.
Adina stopped dead in her tracks. The color drained from her arrogant face, her mouth opening to scream.
Before a single sound could escape her lips, I lunged forward and brought the hilt of the poker down hard against her temple. Adina's eyes rolled back, and she collapsed in a heap of expensive silk and pearls.
"Help me drag them," I ordered Adrienne, my heart beating in a slow, terrifyingly calm rhythm.
We shoved Carla into a nearby linen closet, locking it tight. Then, I grabbed Adina by her arms, hauling her dead weight down the hall and kicking open the door to Room four. I threw my sister-in-law onto the center of the luxurious mattress. With ruthless efficiency, I tore the expensive evening gown from her body, leaving her in nothing but her sheer, scandalous undergarments.
The trap was reset. The prey and the predator had just switched places.
I turned to Adrienne. She was staring at me, her breath hitching at the coldness she found in my eyes.
"Downstairs, Carmella's birthday party is in full swing," I said, my voice a deadly whisper. "Hoy Casey is waiting for a signal. I need you to go down there, find him, and tell him the lady of the house is waiting for him in Room four. Tell him she is eager."
Adrienne swallowed hard. She knew the reputation of the Irish boss. He was a monster who fed on the fear of women. Sending her to speak to him was a gamble with her life.
"Do you understand what I am asking of you?" I asked, stepping closer.
Adrienne looked at Adina's unconscious body, then back at me. The hatred for the family that had abused her hardened her features. She gave a single, resolute nod. "I will bring him to the slaughter, Signorina."
I watched her slip out the door and disappear down the corridor. A pang of guilt pierced my chest, but I crushed it instantly. To survive a world of wolves, I had to become the most ruthless one of all.
I turned and walked toward the French doors that led out to the estate gardens. The freezing Chicago wind whipped my face as I stepped into the snow-covered night, my hand slipping into my coat pocket to trace the cold, metallic edges of the detonator I had hidden there hours ago.
