Chapter 8 - The Breach
The tenderness of that moment was shattered by a deafening explosion.
*BOOM!*
The entire wing of the mansion shuddered violently. Books flew from the shelves, crystal glasses shattered against the floor, and the heavy chandelier swung wildly overhead, showering the Persian rug with sparkling dust.
Black smoke immediately began billowing beneath the double doors of the study.
“Perimeter breached!” Marco’s voice roared through Luca’s earpiece, loud enough for me to hear. *“Russo’s men! They brought heavy ordinance! They blew the front gates and the southern terrace! We’re surrounded!”*
Luca’s protective demeanor vanished instantly, replaced by the apex predator the city feared.
He didn't panic. He moved with cold, lethal precision.
He drew a heavy semiautomatic pistol from his shoulder holster, chambered a round, and reached into the hidden cabinet beneath the bookshelf, pulling out a smaller compact handgun. He pressed it into my uninjured left hand.
“Do you know how to use this?” he demanded.
“Point and pull,” I said, my voice shaking, adrenaline flooding my veins.
“Safety is off. Keep your finger off the trigger until you intend to kill,” Luca commanded, grabbing my arm and pulling me into the hallway. “We get Mateo. Now.”
The corridor was filled with acrid black smoke and the strobing glare of alarm lights. Downstairs, the continuous chatter of automatic gunfire echoed through the high ceilings, accompanied by the screams of dying men.
Vincent Russo had realized Isabella was caught, and he had launched a desperate, scorched-earth assault to wipe out the Moretti bloodline before Luca could retaliate.
We sprinted down the hall toward Mateo’s bedroom.
The door was kicked off its hinges.
My heart plummeted into an abyss. “Mateo!”
Luca surged into the room like a battering ram.
Inside, two men in tactical gear were struggling with a thrashing, screaming bundle of blankets. Mateo was biting, kicking, and screaming bloody murder.
Luca fired twice.
Two hollow-point rounds shattered the skull of the first mercenary, painting the wallpaper with crimson. The second man dropped Mateo and spun around, raising an assault rifle, but I didn't think.
I raised the compact gun Luca had given me, closed my eyes for half a heartbeat, and pulled the trigger.
*BANG.*
The recoil slammed painfully into my injured wrist, tearing the stitches open once again, but the bullet found its mark. It struck the second mercenary in the throat. He collapsed to the floor, choking on his own blood.
Mateo broke free from the blankets, his face streaked with tears, and hurled himself into my legs. “Emma! Emma!”
I collapsed to my knees, wrapping my arms around him, shielding his tiny body with mine as the gun slipped from my bloody fingers. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”
Luca stood over us, swapping out his magazine with terrifying speed, his eyes blazing with feral fury.
“Marco!” Luca barked into his radio. “Status!”
*“We’ve pushed them out of the foyer, boss, but they’ve cut the access roads! The police are ten minutes out—Russo’s men will burn the place down before backup arrives!”*
Luca looked down at me and his son.
May you like
“The tunnel,” Luca said. “The cellar escape route leads to the boathouse on the lake. Marco, fall back to the vault! We’re pulling out through the water!”
***
