Chapter 6 - The Hunt Within the Walls
Within fifteen seconds of the panic button being triggered, the tranquility of the Villa Moretti was shattered by the blare of silent-alarm klaxons and the heavy tread of tactical boots on stone.
In his study, Lorenzo Moretti was reviewing a shipping manifest when the red alarm light on his desk illuminated.
The change in him was instantaneous. The warm, affectionate father vanished in a fraction of a second, replaced entirely by the cold, ruthless syndicate boss who ruled the eastern seaboard with an iron fist.
He reached into his desk drawer, pulled out a heavy Beretta 92FS pistol, checked the magazine with a practiced clack, and slid it into his shoulder holster.
“Marco,” Lorenzo spoke into his encrypted lapel mic as he strode out of the study.
“Already moving, boss,” Marco’s voice barked back over the comms, punctuated by the sharp sound of shotgun racking. “Perimeter breach at the caretaker’s cottage. Two intruders neutralized by the outer detail; two more have breached the ground floor of the cottage. They’re looking for the child.”
Lorenzo’s stride lengthened into a deadly run. “Protect Elena and Lily. If any man lays a hand on them, I want pieces, not prisoners.”
Inside the caretaker’s cottage, Elena had barricaded the bedroom door with a heavy oak dresser, holding Lily tightly in her arms beneath the window ledge.
Crash!
The wooden cottage door splintered as a booted foot kicked it off its hinges. Two masked men dressed in tactical black stepped into the hallway, their suppressed submachine guns raised.
“Check the bedrooms!” one hissed.
Footsteps approached the children’s room. Elena’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped animal. She grabbed a heavy brass candlestick from the bedside table, raising it with shaking hands, preparing to fight to her last breath.
The bedroom door handle jiggled.
Before the intruder could push the door open, a dark shadow dropped silently from the ceiling rafters of the hallway outside.
Marco Ferrara landed squarely behind the lead intruder, wrapping a massive forearm around the man’s neck and snapping it with a sickening, muffled crunch before the mercenary could even cry out.
The second intruder whirled around, raising his weapon, but Marco anticipated the move, driving his boot into the man’s chest and sending him crashing backward through the drywall.
Within seconds, the cottage was flooded with elite Moretti security guards, securing the perimeter and clearing the rooms.
Marco stepped into the bedroom, lowering his weapon as he saw Elena cowering with Lily.
“Are you unharmed, Miss Vance?” Marco asked, his voice steady and calm despite the adrenaline pumping through his veins.
“We’re... we’re okay,” Elena breathed, her voice trembling violently as she held Lily tight.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed from the doorway.
Lorenzo Moretti walked into the ruined bedroom. His charcoal suit jacket was unbuttoned, his face carved from cold, merciless stone. His dark eyes swept over the terrified mother and child, assessing their safety before his gaze hardened into something terrifying.
“Who sent them?” Lorenzo asked softly.
“Dante Rossi,” Marco answered, stepping forward. “We caught one of the outer scouts trying to reach the north service road. He confessed under quick interrogation. Dante thought you were distracted by domestic life. He wanted leverage.”
Lorenzo stood silently for a long moment. The temperature in the room seemed to drop below freezing.
“Where is Dante right now?” Lorenzo asked.
“He’s hosting a poker game at his private club in the warehouse district,” Marco replied.
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Lorenzo reached up, adjusting his cuffs, exposing the dark ink of the wolf on his forearm and the word Familia across his knuckles.
“Get the cars,” Lorenzo said, his voice terrifyingly quiet. “We’re going to teach Dante Rossi what happens when you mistake a father’s love for weakness.”
