Chapter 5 - The Legal and Lethal War
“Mommy!”
I ripped the door open and bolted into the sunroom. Lily was cowering under the glass table, clutching Barnaby against her chest, her eyes wide with terror as the red emergency strobes painted the walls in scarlet.
“I’ve got you! Mommy’s here!” I slid across the floor, pulling her into my arms and tucking her head against my chest.
Luca was already moving. He pulled a black semi-automatic pistol from a concealed holster beneath his waistcoat, racking the slide with a crisp, lethal *clack*. He tapped his earpiece.
“Vincenzo. Report.”
A burst of static crackled from his device, followed by the muffled rattle of automatic gunfire echoing from the estate’s lower levels.
*“They breached the old carriage house tunnels, boss!”* Vincenzo’s voice shouted over the gunfire. *“Twelve hostiles. They have military-grade body armor and EMP jammers! They cut the main power grid!”*
“Where is Donati?” Luca demanded, his voice eerily calm amidst the chaos.
*“Marco Donati is waiting in an armored SUV outside the main gate with Vanessa Bellini! They have a crooked county judge on a loudspeaker claiming they have a federal warrant for the child’s protective custody!”*
Luca’s eyes narrowed into slits of pure obsidian. “Execute protocol Blackout. Kill every man who stepped through that tunnel. I am coming down.”
He cut the connection, turned, and looked at me.
“Hannah. Take Lily into the master closet. There is a false panel behind the shoe rack that leads to a reinforced panic room. The door is four inches of ballistic titanium. Once you are inside, turn the wheel three times clockwise. Do not open it for anyone except me.”
“Luca, no!” I cried out, my voice cracking as I held Lily tighter. “Don't go down there! They have warrants, they have Donati’s men—”
“A warrant signed by a dead judge means nothing in my house,” Luca said softly. He walked over, knelt down before us, and placed his palm against my cheek. His hand was warm, steady, without a single tremor. “Listen to me, Hannah. For three years, cowards took your life from you because you were alone. You are not alone anymore. Do you trust me?”
I looked at the blood-red strobe lights, listened to the distant thud of explosions rattling the estate’s foundations, and then looked into the steady, unwavering eyes of the man who had torn his own life apart to protect my daughter.
“Yes,” I breathed, a tear spilling over my lashes. “I trust you.”
Luca leaned forward, pressing a fierce, lingering kiss against my forehead, then kissed Lily’s brow. “Ten minutes. That is all I need.”
He stood, turned on his heel, and sprinted down the corridor into the smoke and sirens.
I didn't waste a second. I scooped Lily into my arms, dashed into the master bedroom, and ripped open the heavy closet doors. Pushing aside rows of Luca’s dark suits, I found the hidden latch behind the cedar paneling. The wall swung open with a pneumatic hiss, revealing a small, brightly lit room equipped with monitors, medical supplies, and leather seating.
I shoved Lily inside, stepped through, and grabbed the heavy titanium wheel on the inside of the door.
*Bang! Bang! Bang!*
The sudden splintering of wood from the outer bedroom made my heart leap into my throat.
Through the narrow glass viewport of the panic room door, I saw the bedroom doors blow off their hinges.
Two men in black tactical vests, armed with assault rifles, rushed into the master bedroom. Behind them strode Vanessa Bellini.
She had abandoned her red evening gown for a designer trench coat, her blonde hair pulled back tightly, her face twisted with a manic, unhinged fury.
“Hannah!” Vanessa’s voice screeched through the shattered room. “I know you’re in here, you little rat! Open the door or we blow the hinges!”
I spun the titanium wheel three times clockwise. Heavy steel bolts slammed into the reinforced frame with a series of deep, metallic thuds. We were locked in.
I backed away toward the monitors, shielding Lily behind my body.
On the center monitor, I saw the feed from the bedroom camera. Vanessa was screaming at the two gunmen, pointing at the closet door. One of the men pulled a block of plastic explosive from his vest and began slapping it against the titanium frame.
“Mommy, what are they doing?” Lily cried, covering her ears. “Are they going to hurt us?”
“No, baby,” I whispered, staring at the monitor, my fingernails digging into my palms until they bled. “Nobody is hurting you ever again.”
Suddenly, the screen went black.
A second later, the muffled thud of a suppressed gunshot vibrated through the steel walls.
Then another.
Then a sickening scream.
I held my breath, my heart hammering like a trapped bird.
Through the thick ballistic glass of the viewport, the smoke cleared.
The two tactical gunmen were on the floor, motionless in pools of dark red.
Standing over them, bathed in the red glow of the emergency lights, was Luca Moretti.
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His shirt was torn at the shoulder, a crimson smear staining the white cotton, but his posture was that of an apex predator that hadn't even begun to tire. He held his smoking pistol at his side as he slowly walked toward Vanessa Bellini, who had collapsed onto the carpet, crawling backward in sheer terror.
***