Chapter 5 - Caught in the Crossfire
The next thirty-six hours inside the estate were spent under a pall of heavy, suffocating anticipation. Clara was given a luxurious guest room adjacent to Luca’s suite. Despite the high-thread-count sheets and soft feather pillows, she barely slept.
She spent her time observing the inner workings of the Moretti empire. Guards moved with quiet efficiency, surveillance feeds hummed in the basement control room, and Dante coordinated security protocols with lethal precision.
On the night of the meeting, the atmosphere turned electric.
Clara stood by the second-floor balcony railing, watching as three expensive black sedans pulled into the estate’s courtyard. Three men stepped out, flanked by their own bodyguards.
There was Gabriel—an older, scarred man with white hair and a hardened scowl; Lorenzo—a flashy, younger man wearing an expensive tailored suit and gold watches; and Marcus—a quiet, thin man with sharp eyes who constantly checked his surroundings.
"They're hungry," Luca’s voice came from behind her. He stood in the shadow of the doorway, wearing a loose silk shirt that concealed his bandages. "They smell blood in the water."
"Which one do you think it is?" Clara asked, turning to face him.
"Marcus," Luca replied without hesitation. "He’s been losing heavily at the tables in Atlantic City for months. Vane likely bought his debts."
"If you know it's him, why invite him here?"
"Because knowing isn't enough," Luca said, taking a step toward her. "My captains need proof. In our world, an unproven accusation creates civil war. An executed traitor creates order."
Before Clara could reply, a deafening explosion shattered the quiet of the night.
The shockwave rattled the massive glass windows of the estate, blowing out several panes in the foyer below. The lights flickered violently and died, plunging the mansion into pitch blackness. Red emergency backup lights instantly clicked on, casting a blood-red glare over the walls.
Screams and violent gunfire erupted from the front courtyard.
"They brought heavy weapons!" a guard yelled from the floor below, followed by the heavy rattle of automatic rifle fire.
"It’s an assault!" Dante’s voice roared over the comms. "Vane’s men bypassed the outer gates!"
Luca didn't panic. He grabbed Clara by the wrist, pulling her back into the safety of his suite. "Marcus didn't come to talk," Luca said grimly, drawing a sleek black semi-automatic pistol from a hidden drawer beneath his desk. "He brought Vane’s strike team directly to the front door."
"We're trapped!" Clara said, her heart hammering against her ribs as the sound of gunshots grew closer, ringing out in the lower hallways.
"Not yet," Luca said. He reached into his closet, pulled out a heavy tactical vest, and threw it over Clara’s head, pulling the straps tight around her waist. "Stay behind me. If anyone comes through that door who isn't Dante, you shoot them."
He jammed a small, compact handgun into her trembling hands.
"I don't know how to use this!" she gasped.
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"Point and pull," Luca said, his dark eyes locking onto hers with absolute authority. "I won't let them hurt you, Clara. But you need to fight if it comes to it."
Suddenly, the wooden doors of the suite were blown inward with a shattering crack.
