“Matteo has the hotel system,” he said.
The emergency lights flickered.
A voice came through the ceiling speakers.
“Cousin,” Matteo said.
“You always did prefer dramatic rooms.”
Luca looked toward the speaker.
“You hired a sniper and framed a waitress,” he replied.
“I expected more imagination.”
Matteo laughed softly.
“She was never meant to survive long enough to complain.”
My skin turned cold.
Sarah made a strangled sound.
Matteo continued.
“Send Elena into the private elevator with the ledger.
You and the rest of your people remain in the suite.
Do that, and perhaps I let the guests downstairs leave before the police arrive.”
Luca’s face did not change, but his hand curled at his side.
“No.”
“You do not even know her.”
“I know she is not yours to trade.”
The speaker clicked off.
I looked at Luca.
He was a man whose name frightened an entire hotel, yet he had answered Matteo without consulting anyone.
Not because he trusted me.
Because he refused to hand over a hostage.
That distinction mattered.
Mara opened a concealed cabinet and removed a compact radio system.
“Independent frequency.
Four of my people should still be on it.”
She called each one.
Two answered.
One was trapped in the parking structure.
The other, a security officer named Daniel, had reached the kitchen and found the gray case.
It contained a relay server wired into the hotel’s network and six automatic door controls.
“Can you disconnect it?” Mara asked.
“Not without triggering the fire locks,” Daniel replied.
“But I can pull its camera feed.”
“Send it here.”
The television changed from the ballroom recording to a grid of security images.
Matteo’s men occupied the lobby, ballroom entrances, loading dock, and roof access.
Most were disguised as staff.
In the lower corner, Matteo stood inside the hotel’s security center wearing his tuxedo from the gala.
He was not hiding.
He looked as if he already owned the building.
Beside him sat Owen, Sarah’s brother, bound to a chair.
Sarah covered her mouth.
“He promised he would let him go.”
Luca glanced at her.
“Men like Matteo do not keep witnesses.”
The bluntness made Sarah sway, but it also seemed to strip away the last of her denial.
“What do you need from me?” she asked.
“The truth,” Luca said.
“Every instruction, every meeting, every number you called.”
Sarah gave Mara the code to her phone and described three meetings with Matteo.
One had taken place in the hotel’s underground wine cellar, where cameras did not normally operate.
Another occurred in a coffee shop across from the courthouse.
The third happened that evening behind the ballroom.
Matteo had ordered her to get me drunk, give me the key, and make sure I reached the suite before midnight.
He said the phone would activate when it connected to Luca’s private network.
The map and forged evidence had been added to my apron during the hug.
The plan depended on Luca finding me before the gunmen entered.
He would focus on interrogating the apparent assassin while Matteo’s men took control of the hotel.
My mistake had been falling asleep too quickly.
Luca had returned later than expected.
The timing shifted.
Matteo’s team lost its clean opening and exposed the sniper too early.
I had ruined the plan simply
