Chapter 3 - The Blood on the DocksThe night bled into the early hours of the morning, but sleep remained an impossible dream.
I paced the soft carpets of the master suite, watching the rain strike the glass window. Downstairs, the estate felt like a war bunker. Radios crackled, heavy boots echoed down the marble hallways, and the hum of tactical communications filled the air.
Around four in the morning, Emma woke up. She sat up in the middle of the massive bed, rubbing her eyes with her small fists.
"Mommy?" she called out softly. "Where is Mr. Damiano?"
I walked over, sitting beside her and pulling her into a warm hug. "He had to go out for work, sweetie. How are you feeling?"
"I'm hungry," she admitted, looking around the luxurious room with wide, curious eyes. "And Barnaby wants some milk."
I smiled gently, kissing her forehead. "Let's see if we can get some food."
I walked to the door and knocked twice. Immediately, the heavy brass lock turned, and Marco stepped into the doorway. His suit jacket was unbuttoned, revealing a shoulder holster with a heavy automatic pistol.
"Mrs. Vance," Marco said respectfully, bowing his head slightly. "Is everything alright?"
"Emma is hungry, Marco," I said. "Is it safe for us to go down to the kitchen?"
"The estate is completely secure, ma'am," Marco assured me. "I'll escort you down myself."
We walked down the grand winding staircase into the state-of-the-art chef's kitchen on the ground floor. The house staff had been sent home for safety, leaving the stainless steel counters gleaming and empty.
While Marco stood guard by the kitchen entrance, I opened the massive refrigerator and found fresh milk, berries, and leftover roasted chicken. Within ten minutes, I had made a small plate of chicken and a warm glass of milk for Emma, who sat on one of the high leather barstools, happily munching away.
"Mr. Marco?" Emma asked, her mouth full of chicken. "Is Mr. Damiano a superhero?"
Marco let out a rough laugh, his hard face softening as he looked at the little girl. "Well, little lady, in our world, he's about as close to one as you can get. Though he wears a suit instead of a cape."
"He saved my mommy," Emma said firmly. "So he's a superhero."
Suddenly, Marco's radio clicked with harsh static. A voice panicked over the speaker: “Command! This is Gate 2! We’ve got three unidentified vehicles breaching the outer perimeter! They’re using heavy rams—!”
The sound of an explosion rocked the foundation of the house, followed by the distant rattle of automatic gunfire.
"Down!" Marco roared, drawing his weapon in a single fluid motion. He grabbed me by the arm and shoved me behind the reinforced steel kitchen island, pulling Emma down beside us.
"They bypassed the docks!" Marco cursed into his radio. "Cavalli sent a hit squad straight to the estate! All units, retreat to the main hall! Protect the Don’s family!"
My blood turned to ice. Cavalli hadn't gone for the weapons at the docks—that was a feint to draw Damiano away from the estate! The true target had always been us!
"Sophia, listen to me," Marco said, his eyes deadly serious as he handed me a small, sleek silver pistol from his ankle holster. "Do you know how to use one of these?"
"My... my father was a cop," I stammered, my hands trembling as my fingers wrapped around the cold metal grip. "I know how to disengage the safety."
"Good. If anyone comes through that door who isn't wearing a Moretti crest, you pull the trigger until it stops clicking," Marco instructed. "I'm going to hold the kitchen hallway."
"Marco, no!" I cried out as he stepped out into the corridor, raising his weapon.
The sound of gunfire inside the mansion was deafening. Glass shattered, wood splintered, and screams echoed through the grand halls. I pulled Emma under the dark overhang of the kitchen island, holding her tightly against my body, my thumb hovering over the safety of the silver pistol.
"Mommy, I'm scared," Emma whimpered, burying her face in my neck.
"Shh, baby, stay silent," I whispered, tears blurring my vision. "Mommy’s got you. I won't let anyone hurt you."
Footsteps approached the kitchen—heavy, hurried steps.
I raised the pistol with both hands, aiming directly at the kitchen doorway. My heart was pounding so fast I could hear the blood roaring in my ears.
A figure stepped into the light.
It wasn't Marco.
It was a tall, heavily built hitman wearing a black tactical vest and a ski mask. In his hands, he held a silenced submachine gun. Blood splatters stained his chest. When he saw me crouching behind the island, a cruel grin spread beneath his mask.
"Well, well," the killer sneered, raising his weapon. "The new queen and her little brat. Cavalli pays a million for both your heads."
"Don't move!" I screamed, my voice shaking with primal terror.
He laughed, taking a step forward. "Or what, sweetheart? You gonna shoot—"
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Three deafening shots echoed through the room.
The hitman’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed onto the tile floor like a sack of bricks. Standing behind him in the doorway was Damiano Moretti.
He looked like an angel of death. His shirt was soaked in rain and blood, his face covered in soot, his eyes burning with an unholy, murderous rage. In his right hand, his heavy custom pistol was smoking.
He threw the gun aside, rushed across the kitchen, and pulled both me and Emma into his massive, muscular arms.
"Sophia!" he roared, his voice thick with raw emotion. He buried his face in my hair, holding us so tightly I could barely breathe. "God, Sophia... are you hurt? Did he touch you?"
"We're... we're okay," I sobbed, dropping the silver gun onto the floor and wrapping my arms around his neck, clinging to him like a lifeline. "We're okay, Damiano! He didn't touch us!"
Damiano pulled back, his large hands framing my face, his eyes frantically searching my body for any sign of injury. When he satisfied himself that we were untouched, he scooped Emma up into his arm, holding her firmly against his chest.
"They used a diversion at the docks," Damiano growled, his jaw clenching so hard the muscles jumped. "I realized it halfway there and turned the convoy around. Marco?"
"He's hit in the shoulder, but he's alive," one of Damiano’s men called out from the hallway. "We cleared the rest of the infiltrators, Boss. None of Cavalli’s team survived."
Damiano looked down at the dead hitman on the floor, then back at me. He reached out, his thumb gently wiping away the tears streaming down my cheeks.
"I promised you that no one would ever threaten you again," Damiano said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, deadly pitch. "Cavalli broke the rules of engagement. He brought war to my home."
"Damiano, what are you going to do?" I asked, trembling.
May you like
He pulled my face close to his, pressing his lips firmly against my forehead in a long, lingering kiss that sent a wave of electric heat straight through my body.
"I'm going to end the Cavalli bloodline tonight," Damiano declared. "And then, Sophia... I am bringing you to the alter."
