Chapter 5 - The Siege of Saint Jude’s
By 2:00 AM, the mansion had grown quiet, but inside the East Wing, Luca hadn't slept a wink.
He sat at the dining table in the suite’s private sitting room, reviewing a stack of old financial records and shipping manifests Marco had pulled from the basement archives. Beside him sat Dr. Harrison, a trusted family physician who had just drawn a small blood sample from little Sophie’s arm while she slept.
"The expedited paternity test will take six hours, Luca," Dr. Harrison said softly, packing his medical bag. "But strictly off the record? Looking at her genetic markers and facial structure... there is no doubt. She is Matteo’s daughter."
Luca closed his eyes, pressing his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose. A strange mix of profound joy and deep sorrow washed over him. "Thank you, Doctor. Keep this quiet."
"Always, Luca."
As the doctor exited under Marco’s escort, Luca walked into the adjoining bedroom. Mara was sitting awake in an armchair near the window, a fleece blanket wrapped around her shoulders, watching the falling snow outside.
"You should sleep," Luca said gently, standing behind her chair.
"I haven't slept a full night in three years, Luca," she replied softly without turning around. "Every time I close my eyes, I hear the sound of the news report announcing Matteo’s car fire."
Luca rested his broad hand on the back of her chair. "I swear to you, Mara. The man responsible for that fire will answer to me before this week is over."
Before Mara could answer, the lights in the suite suddenly flickered twice and died.
The ambient hum of the HVAC system shut off, plunging the room into total darkness save for the pale moonlight filtering through the snow-dusted windows.
Instantly, Luca’s posture shifted. He drew a heavy black semi-automatic pistol from his shoulder holster with a lightning-fast motion.
"Stay down," Luca whispered harshly, shoving Mara toward the space between the bed and the wall. "Cover Sophie!"
Outside in the hallway, the faint muffled sound of suppressed gunfire echoed—thwip, thwip, thwip.
"Marco!" Luca barked into his shoulder mic, but only static answered. The internal communications had been jammed.
The heavy oak double doors of the suite were suddenly hit with massive force. The reinforced steel lock held, but a second later, a flashbang grenade was shoved beneath the door gap.
"Frenzy!" Luca roared, throwing his heavy body over Mara and Sophie just as the grenade exploded with a blinding white light and a deafening boom.
BANG!
Plaster rained down from the ceiling. Ears ringing, eyes burning, Luca rolled off them as the heavy doors were kicked off their hinges. Three masked men clad in black tactical gear burst into the room, submachine guns raised.
Luca didn't hesitate. Even half-blinded by the flash, his muscle memory was flawless.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
He fired three rapid shots. The lead intruder collapsed backward into the doorway, his weapon clattering onto the floor.
The second attacker unleashed a spray of bullets that chewed through the footboard of the mahogany bed, sending wooden splinters flying. Luca dove behind a heavy leather armchair, returning fire with lethal precision, hitting the second shooter square in the throat.
"Get the kid! Grab the kid!" a voice screamed from the hallway—a voice Luca recognized instantly.
Vincent.
The third gunman charged toward the bed where Sophie was screaming in terror. Mara, driven by pure maternal instinct, grabbed a heavy brass floor lamp from beside the nightstand and swung it with all her strength, striking the gunman across the side of his helmet.
The man stumbled back, cursing, and raised his pistol toward Mara’s chest.
"NO!" Luca bellowed.
He threw himself across the room, placing his broad back directly in front of Mara just as the attacker pulled the trigger.
BANG!
A heavy 9mm round tore into Luca’s right shoulder, the impact driving him down to his knees. Pain flared through his chest like liquid fire, but Luca didn't slow down. He reached up with his left hand, grabbed the attacker’s tactical vest, dragged him down to the floor, and drove a combat knife straight into the traitor's side.
The room fell into a sudden, agonizing silence, broken only by the sound of crackling plaster and heavy breathing.
Luca knelt on the rug, his right arm hanging limp, bright crimson blood rapidly soaking through his white shirt and spreading across his chest.
"Luca!" Mara cried, scrambling over the ruined furniture to reach his side. She pressed her hands hard against his bleeding shoulder, her face pale with terror. "Oh God, Luca! You're shot!"
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Luca grunted through clenched teeth, his dark eyes burning with an unyielding, terrifying light as he looked up at her.
"I told you..." Luca gasped out, his left hand reaching up to cup her face gently. "Nobody touches... my family."
