Chapter 5 - The Ashes of Lake County
Tommy froze, his revolver pointing toward the floor. Camila let out a sharp gasp, her hand flying to her mouth as she scrambled backward toward the open front door.
“D’Angelo,” Tommy said, his voice remarkably steady for a man staring down the barrel of an automatic weapon. “I didn't think you had it in you to survive those guys.”
“You underestimated the basement,” D’Angelo said, his finger tightening on the trigger. “And you underestimated me. Eleven years, Tommy. I treated you like a brother.”
“You treated me like an employee who got lucky,” Tommy spat, his eyes darting toward the shadows of the corridor, looking for any sign of his remaining men. “You sat in the back of that Mercedes while I took the bullets, D’Angelo. Camila offered me half of the Lake County trust. What did you offer me? A salary and a pat on the back?”
“I offered you your life,” D’Angelo said. “Every time I kept you out of the crossfire. But I suppose that wasn't enough.”
“D’Angelo, please!” Camila cried, her voice suddenly shifting into the high-pitched, desperate tone she used when she wanted to manipulate him. She took a step forward, her hands held out in surrender. “He forced me into this! Tommy threatened to kill my family if I didn't help him get the security codes! You have to believe me!”
D’Angelo looked at her. Really looked at her. The beautiful face, the perfect clothes, the absolute void of truth behind her eyes.
“You’re a terrible actress, Camila,” D’Angelo said softly. “Nancy found your burner phone. I read the messages. You’ve been planning this since the day we got engaged.”
Camila’s expression instantly hardened, the tears vanishing as quickly as they had appeared. “You’re a monster, D’Angelo. You were never going to let me go. You were always going to keep me in this golden cage.”
“It’s a very expensive cage,” D’Angelo said. “And tonight, it’s going to be your tomb.”
Before Tommy could raise his revolver, D’Angelo fired.
The double-tap struck Tommy squarely in the chest. The force of the rounds threw him backward against the glass wall of the foyer, which shattered into a thousand spiderweb cracks before he collapsed into the pool of his own blood.
Camila screamed and turned to run toward the rain-drenched driveway.
D’Angelo did not shoot her.
He walked calmly to the open door, watching her run down the sweeping concrete steps into the pouring rain.
What Camila did not know was that the perimeter team D’Angelo had ordered to stay outside hadn't been compromised—only the south gate had been. When Tommy had disabled the south gate, D’Angelo’s true loyalists on the perimeter had simply shifted their patrol patterns, waiting for his signal.
D’Angelo pulled the burner phone from his pocket and pressed a single button, speed-dialing the head of his perimeter security, Marcus.
“Marcus,” D’Angelo said, his voice calm and clear over the sound of the storm.
“Yes, boss?”
“Miss Ross is running down the main driveway. She’s involved in an attempted home invasion. Secure her. Do not kill her. We have a lot of paperwork to rewrite.”
“Understood, boss.”
D’Angelo ended the call. He turned back toward the dark foyer, where Nancy was slowly stepping out from behind the limestone screen, the heavy brass flashlight still clutched in her hand.
He walked over to her, his movements slow and deliberate. He took the flashlight from her trembling fingers and set it on the console table, right next to his original compact pistol.
“Your mother’s medical bills,” D’Angelo said, looking down at her bleeding hand. “They will be paid in full tomorrow. By a private trust that has no connection to Camila Ross.”
Nancy blinked, tears finally spilling over her eyelashes. “Why? I... I helped her spy on you.”
“You told me the truth when it mattered,” D’Angelo said, pulling a clean white handkerchief from his suit pocket and wrapping it gently around her cut thumb. “In my world, Nancy, that makes you the most valuable asset I have.”
May you like
He looked out the shattered glass wall toward the dark, wet woods of Lake County. The rain was still falling, washing the blood from the stone steps, carrying it away into the dark earth where nobody would ever find it.
The Gallow estate was quiet once more. But for the first time in years, D’Angelo felt like the house was finally his own.
