Page 76 of The Don's Deadly Assassin

Perhaps I need to take a look in the mirror, before I decide to reduce Camela to a cold-blooded killer. There could be a million explanations. Some of these from her past, which she hasn’t unlocked for me yet. I can’t claim that I’ve told her of all the horrors I’ve caused.

I reach right beside her and the woman below us moans again. An appalling reminder of the horrific events that just took place here.

My sweet Camela, what happened to that gentle soul you showed me?

"Camela..." I say softly, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Finally turning to meet my eyes, she says “I promise I’ll explain everything when we get home.”

I hesitate, then ask the question I'm dreading to hear answered. "Camela, am I going to be angry when you explain all this?"

She pauses, and for a moment I see a flash of uncertainty cross her face. "Probably," she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her answer tells me all I need to know for now. She didn’t try to make excuses or justify anything. She’s going to be true and honest, just as she was now.

I know there's no going back now. What's done is done. But we can't just leave things as they are. “We need to handle this carefully,” I assert.

“What are you saying?”

I ignore her question. There’s no time to waste. "We have to make it look like an accident,” I tell her, in a tone that can’t be argued against. “This isn’t my first time,” I remind her, of who I am, the family I come from.

I’m Don Consolini, after all. Camela nods, her expression unreadable. I feel sick staging such a deception, but I know it's our only option. My mind flashes back to my earliest days as a mafia don, cleaning up messes and tying up loose ends when I didn’t have my men under my control, right after my brother died. I never wanted to revisit that ruthless part of myself again. But here we are.

“If the authorities find her like this, it could raise questions,” I tell Camela. She nods.

“There was a sign,” Camela tells me. She rushes away and returns with a large Do Not Enter board on a stick.

“Go plant it back,” I tell her. “Wherever you picked it up from.”

She runs off, and by the time she returns, I have a plan already. "We'll stage an accident. Trigger a controlled fire and a collapse of the labyrinth wall. That should bury any evidence of what really happened." I squeeze her hand reassuringly. "I'll take care of it. No one will ever connect this to you. Or to us. Go wait by the entrance. If the guard asks, say I’m in the washroom."

“But Vincenzo!” she protests. “Let me help.”

“Camela, go!” I warn her. She’s done enough for one night. I’d like to keep her hands as untainted as I can, from this point forward. I still love this woman, no matter what. She opens her mouth but anger washes over me, despite the fact that I love her. It’s a conundrum, these confused emotions waging war inside me. I step forward, and stop her from speaking by placing my fingers on her lips. “Leave, Camela. Now.”

“I won’t!” she takes my hand and puts it down, still holding on to it. A fiery defiance flashes in her eyes, and I bite my tongue. Despite what she did, she remains true to herself. For some reason, her rage calms mine.

“Fine,” I whisper. “Stand back, by that opening,” I point to the only entry and exit to this space.

She doesn’t argue again. I watch her stand under the dome like gate, watching me with hawk eyes.

I shake off her presence and walk towards the boundary. I run my hands and fingers along the wall until I locate the electrical wiring. Following the tangle of cables, I find what I'm looking for - the main power line feeding this section of the labyrinth. With steady hands, I strip away the plastic coating, exposing the copper wires underneath. I know just how to manipulate them to cause the right amount of damage.

Sparks fly as I carefully cross and twist the live wires, bypassing the circuit breakers. The acrid smell of burning plastic fills the air. I work quickly, keeping one eye on the structural integrity of the wall beside me.

Right on cue, the stone begins to fracture and crumble, destabilized by the electrical fire I've triggered. The collapse starts slowly at first, then gains momentum as huge blocks shear away from the walls. Clouds of debris billow through the corridors.

I duck into an alcove, shielding my face from the destruction. The ground shudders under my feet. With a deafening roar, a large section of the wall gives way, burying that cursed pit under tons of rubble.

When the chaos finally settles, I emerge to survey the scene. The labyrinth is unrecognizable, consumed by flames and buried in shattered stone. No one could ever tell this was not just an unfortunate structural collapse during the height of the event. The guide’s body will never be found.

My work here is finished. It's time to leave this nightmare behind. I run over boulders of burning wood and stone without looking back. I run towards where Camela is waiting for me.

Taking her hand in mine, we dart away from the entrance just as the fire wholly claims the space we were standing in minutes ago.

Once inside our car, I hit the button to raise the privacy partition, sealing us off from the driver. Finally, Camilla and I have a moment alone to process what just happened.

I pick up my phone and call my contact who organized tonight.

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