Chapter 4 - Ambush at the EstateThe rain fell in sheets over the dark, winding roads of Long Island’s North Shore.
A heavy black SUV navigated the private driveway of a sprawling, gothic revival mansion hidden behind iron gates and thick pine trees. Inside the vehicle sat Lorenzo, Sophia, Marco, and two heavily armed guards.
"Stay in the car, Sophia," Lorenzo ordered as the vehicle came to a stop near the tree line overlooking the estate. "Marco and I will enter through the side terrace."
"Lorenzo, wait," Sophia said, grabbing his forearm. "If Matteo is meeting the San Giuliano representative, they aren't just signing a deal. The San Giuliano family line died out in 1943 during the Allied invasion of Sicily. Whoever is claiming to be the heir is an impostor using a stolen noble identity!"
Lorenzo looked at her hand resting on his arm, then met her eyes. "Which means the entire operation is a coordinated fraud designed by a syndicate rival. Even more reason for you to stay safe in this car."
"No," Sophia said firmly, surprising even herself with her audacity. "You need me to read whatever contract they are signing in real-time. If you wait until after they sign, the legal filing will go live on the international registry, and the damage will be done!"
Lorenzo studied her fierce, unwavering expression for three seconds. A rare, approving smirk touched his lips.
"Marco," Lorenzo said, pulling a compact, high-caliber handgun from his shoulder holster and racking the slide. "Keep her between us. If a single bullet flies in her direction, I will personally throw you into the Hudson."
"Understood, boss," Marco said grimly, handing Sophia a lightweight kevlar vest.
They slipped out of the vehicle into the freezing rain, moving silently through the shadows of the estate's manicured gardens. They bypassed the security perimeter through a side glass conservatory door that Marco efficiently unlocked with a specialized kit.
Inside, the mansion was quietly opulent. They navigated the dimly lit hallways, following the low murmur of voices echoing from the grand library on the main floor.
Lorenzo, Marco, and Sophia crouched behind a set of heavy velvet drapes near the open archway of the library.
Inside the library, sitting by a roaring fireplace, was Matteo Moretti. Across from him sat a tall, sharp-featured man with a thin mustache, wearing an expensive tailored suit—the self-proclaimed "Count von Bern," the supposed representative of the San Giuliano estate.
On the desk between them lay two thick leather-bound binders.
"Once you sign these documents, Matteo," the Count said in accented English, "the emergency injunction against the Red Hook piers will be filed with the federal court in Brooklyn at dawn. Lorenzo’s primary supply line will be frozen. The board will have no choice but to remove him as CEO for negligence, and you will step into his place."
Matteo let out a dark, arrogant laugh, swirling a glass of scotch in his hand. "Lorenzo thinks he’s untouchable because he hired that little street waitress to double-check his papers. He has no idea his own foundation is crumbling."
Matteo picked up a fountain pen, leaning over the contract.
Sophia leaned close to Lorenzo’s ear, her warm breath fluttering against his neck. "The binders," she whispered frantically in Sicilian. "The secondary seal on the table isn't the San Giuliano crest—it’s the crest of the Donati family from Milan! Matteo isn't just stealing your piers; he's selling the entire Moretti maritime network to your primary rival in Northern Italy!"
Lorenzo’s eyes flashed with lethal fury. He didn't waste another second.
With a single, powerful kick, Lorenzo shattered the heavy oak doors of the library, stepping into the room with his pistol raised. Marco followed instantly, his weapon covering the perimeter.
"Matteo!" Lorenzo’s voice boomed like a crack of thunder through the high-ceilinged room.
Matteo jumped up, dropping his pen, his glass shattering on the floor. His face turned ashen as he stared at his cousin. "Lorenzo! How... how did you find this place?!"
The Count reached frantically toward his jacket, but Lorenzo fired a single, lightning-fast shot that shattered the glass desk lamp inches from the Count's hand. The man instantly froze, throwing his hands into the air.
"Step away from the desk, Matteo," Lorenzo commanded, rolling up his sleeves as he approached his cousin with absolute, terrifying calm.
"Lorenzo, listen to me!" Matteo stammered, backing away until his spine hit the bookshelf. "It’s not what it looks like! I was setting a trap for them! I was trying to protect the family!"
"By selling Red Hook to the Donati family?" Sophia’s voice rang out clearly as she stepped out from behind Marco, pointing at the open binder on the desk. "The sub-clause on page twelve explicitly transfers maritime sovereignty to the Donati holding firm in Milan. You are a traitor to your own blood, Matteo."
Matteo’s eyes snapped to Sophia, his face twisting into a hideous mask of rage. "You bitch! You ruined everything!"
In a flash of pure desperation, Matteo lunged forward, pulling a hidden derringer pistol from his sleeve and aiming it straight at Sophia’s chest!
BANG!
A shot echoed through the room.
Sophia closed her eyes, bracing for impact. But the bullet didn't hit her.
Lorenzo had thrown his body directly between Matteo and Sophia, taking the round high in his left shoulder. He didn't even drop to his knees. Roaring like a wounded lion, Lorenzo closed the distance in a fraction of a second, grabbing Matteo by the throat with his right hand and slamming him violently onto the marble hearth of the fireplace.
"Lorenzo!" Sophia screamed, rushing to his side as Marco subdued the Count and the remaining guards.
Lorenzo held Matteo pinned to the floor, his face inches from his cousin's trembling face, blood soaking through the left shoulder of his white shirt.
"You dared to aim a gun at her?" Lorenzo growled, his voice a low, terrifying rumble that shook the room. "You sell my family, you betray my trust, and then you try to kill the woman I love?"
Matteo gasped for air, his eyes wide with absolute horror. "Lorenzo... please... blood... we are blood..."
"Blood means nothing without loyalty," Lorenzo whispered.
He struck Matteo across the jaw with the heavy handle of his pistol, knocking him instantly unconscious.
Lorenzo stood up slowly, swaying slightly from the loss of blood. Sophia caught him, wrapping her arms firmly around his waist to support his massive frame.
"Lorenzo, you're bleeding!" she cried, tears streaming down her face as she pressed her hand against his wound.
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Lorenzo looked down at her, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, reaching up with his good hand to gently cup her face.
"I'm fine, mia cara," Lorenzo murmured softly, a small, weary smile breaking through his pale face. "As long as you are safe... I am completely fine."
