Chapter 13 - Blood in the Foyer
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Marco guided us swiftly through a concealed servant's passage behind the library bookshelves.
The walls vibrated with the deafening thunder of shotgun blasts and ricocheting rifle rounds.
Oliver buried his face under my collar, weeping quietly.
"Mommy, I'm scared," he whimpered.
"I know, baby, but Uncle Luca and Marco are protecting us," I whispered, holding him with every ounce of strength in my body.
We reached the heavy reinforced door of the underground panic room just as a loud crash echoed from the main hallway behind us.
Two masked gunmen wearing tactical vests turned the corner, their rifles pointed directly at our backs.
"There they are!" one shouted.
Marco pushed me through the steel doorway of the panic room with his left arm while drawing his weapon with his right.
"Get inside and hit the red lock button!" Marco roared.
Before the gunmen could fire, Marco stepped into the open hallway, unleashing a barrage of return fire that forced the attackers to dive for cover.
I tumbled onto the reinforced floor of the safe room, Oliver clutched against my stomach.
I scrambled across the tiles and slammed my palm against the emergency red button on the wall.
A hydraulic hiss filled the air as the six-inch-thick steel door slid shut, sealing us in soundproof, impenetrable safety.
Through the small bulletproof glass portal, I watched Marco drop one of the attackers before taking a bullet to his left arm.
Just as the second gunman aimed at Marco's chest, a shadow moved like lightning down the stone corridor.
It was Luca.
His tailored suit was covered in plaster dust and blood, but his movements were terrifyingly fast and precise.
With two deafening shots, Luca eliminated the remaining threat, catching Marco before the big enforcer could collapse.
Luca looked directly through the glass portal at Oliver and me.
He gave us a swift, determined nod, signaling that we were safe.
Then he turned back toward the main stairs where the final confrontation was unfolding.
In the grand foyer, the smoke from flash grenades hung thick like morning fog.
Dozens of Bellini's hired guns lay disarmed and captured on the marble floor, surrounded by loyal Moretti soldiers.
At the center of the foyer, standing beneath the shattered chandelier, was Salvatore Bellini.
His silver hair was wild, his eyes crazed with desperate mania.
He held a silver revolver in his trembling hand.
"Luca!" Salvatore screamed, his voice cracking. "Come out and face me, you coward!"
Luca stepped slowly out of the shadows of the archway, his gun lowered at his side.
"It's over, Salvatore," Luca said, his voice echoing in the ruined hall.
"Your men have surrendered."
"The police and the Commission are already surrounding the estate."
"You have nothing left."
Salvatore raised his revolver, aiming straight at Luca's forehead.
"If I'm going to hell, I'm taking you with me!" Salvatore shrieked.
Before Salvatore's finger could pull the trigger, three sharp gunshots echoed from the top of the grand staircase.
Salvatore gasped, dropping his weapon as three red blooms blossomed across his chest.
He collapsed backward onto the cold marble floor, dead before he hit the ground.
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Luca spun around, looking up toward the top of the stairs to see who had fired.
Standing at the top of the marble staircase, holding a smoking pistol, was someone nobody had expected to see.
