Chapter 8 - THIRTY MINUTES TO SAVE HIS WIFE
Matteo watched the gun touch Penelope’s head.
Something inside him became silent.
Not calm.
Silence was different.
Calm permitted thought. Silence removed everything except purpose.
Luca recognized the change.
“We need a plan.”
“We have one.”
“Driving into the factory is not a plan.”
Matteo removed the drive.
“Carlo believes the evidence exists in one copy.”
“You intend to give it to him?”
“I intend to make him believe he has it.”
Madison stood near the office door.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
She lifted the marble soap dish.
“I’m beginning to dislike that word.”
Matteo understood where she had learned the response.
“Your sister asked me to keep you safe.”
“My sister is kneeling beneath a gun because everyone else decided what was best for her.”
That struck too close to Penelope’s own words.
Matteo looked at Luca.
“Take Madison to Ward. Release the first evidence file to federal servers. Hold the rest until I signal.”
“And if you do not signal?”
“Release everything.”
They returned to the factory with eighteen minutes remaining.
Carlo’s guards searched Matteo and Luca, then took the drive.
Carlo stood on the old processing platform.
Penelope remained on her knees.
Her eyes met Matteo’s.
She was frightened.
She did not pretend otherwise.
But she was alive.
Carlo inserted the drive into a laptop.
Files appeared.
Names.
Payments.
Photographs.
All manufactured from copied fragments.
“It’s complete,” Matteo said.
Carlo scrolled.
“You expect me to believe you surrendered this for a hotel manager?”
“No.”
Matteo looked at Penelope.
“I surrendered it for my wife.”
Her eyes widened slightly.
Carlo smiled.
“You are not married.”
Matteo’s expression remained still.
“Details.”
“You always mocked men who confused desire with loyalty.”
“I was younger.”
“You were smarter.”
“No. I was alone.”
Penelope’s face changed.
Carlo removed the gun from her head.
“Release him,” he ordered, pointing toward Adrian.
The guard unlocked one chain.
Before the second was removed, alarms sounded throughout the factory.
Carlo turned toward Matteo.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
For once, that was true.
Sofia stood beside the fire-control panel.
Her hand rested on the alarm switch.
“I did.”
Carlo’s face twisted.
“You ungrateful—”
She pulled a second lever.
Fire doors slammed between the guards.
Steam flooded the processing room.
Penelope rolled beneath a conveyor belt.
Matteo lunged at Carlo.
The older man fired.
The bullet struck Matteo’s side.
He continued moving.
He drove Carlo into the railing.
Luca fought two guards near the entrance.
Adrian shielded Leo while Sofia searched for the chain key.
Penelope crawled toward Matteo.
“Are you hit?”
“Yes.”
“That was not a useful answer.”
“It was accurate.”
Carlo struck Matteo’s wound.
He staggered.
Penelope grabbed a metal scoop and swung it into Carlo’s hand.
The gun fell through the railing.
Carlo turned on her.
Matteo caught his arm.
“Do not touch her.”
Carlo laughed and head-butted him.
Matteo fell.
Carlo seized Penelope by the throat and dragged her toward the edge of the platform.
“You made him weak.”
Penelope struggled for air.
“No.”
She looked at Matteo forcing himself upright.
“I made him ask.”
Then she drove her heel down on Carlo’s foot and threw her weight backward.
The railing broke.
Both of them tipped over the edge.
Matteo caught Penelope’s wrist.
Carlo caught her ankle.
She hung between them above the factory floor.
Pain tore through Matteo’s side.
His grip began to slip.
“Let me go,” Penelope gasped.
“No.”
“He’ll pull you over.”
“No.”
Carlo looked up.
“Forever, nephew?”
Matteo’s face hardened.
“Yes.”
Adrian reached them and grabbed Matteo around the waist.
Luca arrived seconds later.
Together they pulled Penelope upward.
Carlo still clung to her ankle.
Sofia stood above him.
He looked at her.
“Help me.”
For twenty years, Sofia had obeyed him out of fear for her son.
Now Adrian and Leo were free.
She crouched.
Carlo reached for her hand.
Sofia looked into his eyes.
“You should have died in the lake.”
Then she stepped on his fingers.
Carlo fell.
He struck a conveyor and disappeared into the steam below.
Penelope collapsed against Matteo.
Blood soaked his shirt.
“You were shot.”
“I noticed.”
“Sit down.”
“Are you ordering me?”
“Yes.”
He sat.
She pressed both hands against the wound.
Federal agents breached the factory moments later. Madison had delivered the evidence to Detective Ward, who obtained emergency tactical support.
Paramedics took Matteo to a secure hospital.
The bullet had passed through muscle without striking an organ.
Penelope remained beside his bed.
At dawn, he woke.
“You stayed.”
“You sound surprised.”
“You owe me dinner, not a night in intensive care.”
“This is not intensive care.”
“Then I was misled by the machines.”
She tried to smile.
Instead, tears filled her eyes.
Matteo’s expression changed.
“Penelope.”
“You almost fell.”
“So did you.”
“You caught me after being shot.”
“You were falling.”
“That doesn’t make it reasonable.”
“No.”
She wiped her face angrily.
Matteo held out his hand.
She took it.
“You called me your wife,” she said.
“It was useful.”
“Liar.”
His thumb moved across her knuckles.
“Yes.”
Her heart shifted.
“Why did you offer to marry me that first night?”
“I told you.”
“No. You explained why pretending could stop Bradley. You never explained why you said yes before knowing anything about the stolen documents.”
Matteo looked toward the window.
“Three months ago, I attended a charity dinner at the hotel.”
“I worked that event.”
“I know.”
Penelope stared.
He continued.
“A server dropped an entire tray of champagne in front of the mayor. Charles Wentworth began shouting at her.”
“I remember.”
“You stepped between them.”
“She was seventeen.”
“You told Wentworth the floor was slippery because management had ignored a maintenance report.”
“It was true.”
“You accepted the complaint under your own name so he could not fire her.”
“How do you know that?”
“I asked.”
Penelope’s pulse quickened.
“I saw you again two weeks later,” Matteo said. “An elderly guest became confused in the lobby. You sat with him for forty minutes until his daughter arrived.”
“That is my job.”
“No. Your job was to call security.”
She said nothing.
“I knew your name before you grabbed my arm.”
The revelation settled between them.
“Then dinner was not payment.”
“No.”
“You already wanted to ask me.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because people behave differently when they know who I am.”
“I knew.”
“You knew rumors.”
“I knew enough to be terrified.”
“You still grabbed me.”
“I was panicking.”
“You still made the choice.”
Penelope looked at their hands.
“And now?”
Matteo’s voice lowered.
“Now I want something I have no right to ask for.”
“What?”
“A real chance.”
Her breath caught.
“Not a marriage,” he said. “Not yet. Dinner. Then another, if you choose. No lies about who I am.”
“And no decisions about my safety without me.”
His jaw tightened.
“I can try.”
“That was honest.”
“It was not romantic.”
“Honesty might be the most romantic thing about you.”
She leaned closer and kissed him.
Matteo remained still for one startled second.
Then his hand moved to the back of her neck.
The kiss deepened.
When they separated, Penelope rested her forehead against his.
“This does not mean forever.”
“No.”
“Good.”
Matteo’s mouth curved.
“It means dinner.”
Before Penelope could answer, Luca entered.
“Carlo’s body is missing.”
The warmth vanished.
“What?” Matteo asked.
“Federal agents searched the factory floor. They found blood, but no body.”
Penelope closed her eyes.
“Why do none of the men in your family stay dead?”
Matteo pulled her closer.
“Carlo cannot leave the city.”
Luca’s expression said otherwise.
“He may not need to.”
He placed a hospital security photograph on the bed.
May you like
Charles Wentworth had entered the building ten minutes earlier wearing a physician’s coat.
And according to the hospital system, he had just used a stolen badge to access the room where Adrian and Leo were sleeping.
