Page 113 of Last Shot

That had been Emilio Barbarani’s catchphrase – isn’t that what Grey had said in the cellar before the bomb? LikeThe Burgers are Better at Hungry Jack’sorLowest Prices are Just the Beginning.

What if it had a literal meaning?

Her fingers traced the glass wine cabinet Sophie had leant against while Max imagined Grey’s lips on her collarbone. Where Max had watched Vittoria watch Claudia La Marca.

The secret is in the wine.

Their group hadn’t been far from here when Forrest bolted towards the door. Had Grey led them in here, not knowing it was a trap? And if, by some miracle, the entrance to one of Emilio’s secret passageways was here – what if there was a keycode or fingerprint access needed?

There hadn’t been one to open the fake barrel back in the cellar ...

What had Grey said about Giovanni being old-school? Hating change? Keeping his father’s recipe like it was the fucking Eleventh Commandment? Would that have carried through to the secret passageways?

She clawed at the glass, searching for a bump, a partition, a crack, anything.

The voices above the staircase grew louder.

Fuck.

It was the same two men from before – the American one spoke first. ‘Why does she want us out here? If the cops show up, we’re the ones who are gonna get shot at.’

‘Cops don’t come to the Barbarani property unless they’re invited.’

‘Shit, they really run this place don’t they?’

‘Not for—’

CRACK!

Max had been so busy searching for an entry that she hadn’t been watching where she stepped. The crunching sound of her shoe against glass echoed through the silent chamber, cutting off the voices instantly.

Shit.

Shit.

‘Who the fuck’s that?’

Her heart was hammering so loud she didn’t even know if it was the American or the Australian who’d spoken. Shards of an expensive watch face stuck to her heel. She’d stepped on the Rolex she’d last seen on Grey’s kitchen bench.

How had it fallen off his wrist?

Unless ...

Was it a breadcrumb?

Had he left it for her?

‘There’s someone down there.’

Now would be a fabulous time, Emilio, for your portrait to go full Dorian Gray and point me in the right direction.

Her fingers clasped something – ten centimetres above the fractured face of the watch. A lever.

POW!

She ducked as the glass cabinet above her shattered. Another bullet streaked past as glass and wine gushed down. Max raised the dart gun towards the two silhouettes stomping down the stairs. Her hand shook as she searched again for the lever she knew she’d felt. She’d lost it as soon as they’d fired.

‘It’s the security guard. Fuck it, I thought we got her in the first round. Fuck!’

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