Sir, I Found Your Son in the Trash Bin by the Kitchen, the Maid's Little Girl Said, Mafia Boss Was Stunned

Rocco sprinted through the blinding rain, the water soaking his dress shirt, his boots gripping the slick stone. He didn't have heavy anti-materiel weapons on him, but he had terrain advantage.

He reached the utility junction beside the generator house five seconds before the armored van could ram the ventilation hub. Rocco raised his weapon, targeting not the armored windshield, but the hydraulic steering linkage exposed behind the reinforced front wheel well.

Three armor-piercing rounds struck the pressurized steering fluid lines.

The van veered violently off course, its tires shrieking against the wet asphalt as the front axle snapped, sending the three-ton vehicle slamming sideways into a massive decorative stone fountain. The impact buckled the hood, sending steam hissing into the rainy night.

The driver’s door was kicked open. Sergio Castiglione stumbled out, his face bleeding from the airbag deployment, an automatic rifle clutched in his hands.

Before Sergio could raise the barrel, Rocco kicked the weapon from his grip with a crushing blow that shattered the man’s wrist. He grabbed Sergio by the tactical collar, slamming him against the crumpled hood of the van.

"Wait! Rocco, wait!" Sergio gagged, staring into the pitch-black abyss of Rocco’s eyes. "It was Valentina's idea! She approached my brother three months ago! She promised us thirty percent of the port logistics if we helped silence Dr. Vance and eliminate the infant!"

"I know," Rocco whispered.

"Then take my deal! My brother will pay whatever you want—ten million! Twenty million!"

"You made one mistake, Sergio," Rocco said, pressing the cold steel of his barrel beneath Sergio's chin. "You came into the house where my son sleeps."

A single shot echoed into the thunderous night.

Silence returned to the estate.

Within ten minutes, Matteo appeared in the courtyard, accompanied by five surviving Moretti guards. The perimeter was secure. The remaining attackers were either neutralized or captured.

Matteo approached, wiping blood from a shallow cut on his brow. "The local precinct captains have been handled. The incident is classified as an industrial gas explosion and an attempted private burglary. What about the woman upstairs?"

"Call the federal authorities," Rocco instructed, tossing his spent magazine aside. "Not the local police. The Department of Justice. Give them Valentina's offshore ledgers, her wire transfers to Vance, and her encrypted logs with the Castiglione syndicate. Let her spend the next forty years in a federal penitentiary without bail. A quick death is too gentle for someone who throws babies in the trash."