Chapter 37 - The Iron Tomb
They moved through the rusted drainage tunnels like phantoms, Vincent leading the way with terrifying precision. Every turn was cleared with textbook tactical discipline. Two mercenary sentries positioned at a subterranean junction were neutralized before they even had time to raise their weapons—Vincent dropping them with silent, ruthless headshots, their bodies caught and lowered quietly to the damp concrete.
Emma watched Vincent in awe and terror. This was not the man who sat in glass boardrooms signing billion-dollar merger agreements; this was the apex predator of the Moretti bloodline, a man forged in the darkest shadows of his family’s violent history.
They reached a heavy blast door that led into the lower level of the central furnace hall. Through the thick glass inspection slit, Emma saw the horror inside.
The massive, rusted warehouse was illuminated by portable halogen work lights. In the center of the hall, Leo was tied to a heavy steel chair, his face bruised and tears streaking through the dirt on his cheeks. Standing around him were six heavily armed mercenaries, checking their weapons and packing tactical cases into an open shipping container mounted on a flatbed railcar.
Above them on an elevated industrial catwalk stood Helena Moretti, wrapped in a black cashmere coat, holding a biometric reading tablet.
"The sample is extracted," a man in a white lab coat said, handing a small vial of Leo's blood to Helena. "Genetic markers confirm a ninety-nine percent lineage match to the auditor's bloodline. The De Rossi accounts in Zurich are unlocking now. Forty billion euros are transferring into the maritime trusts."
Helena smiled, a hideous, triumphant sneer that warped her aristocratic features. "Excellent. Kill the brat. Put his body in the slag pit. We leave by the canal in ten minutes."
One of the mercenaries cocked his sidearm, taking a step toward Leo.
Emma gasped, her breath catching in her throat, but before she could make a sound, Vincent kicked the blast door off its rusted hinges with explosive force.
*BANG!*
"Helena!" Vincent’s roar echoed through the steel rafters like thunder.
Vincent opened fire, his rifle spitting fire and lead. The mercenary aiming at Leo dropped instantly, a round through his chest. The entire foundry erupted into chaos. Gunfire shredded the air, deafening and brutal, muzzle flashes illuminating the rusted steel beams in blinding strobes of light.
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"Get the boy!" Vincent roared, laying down a hail of suppressing fire while diving behind a concrete pillar.
Emma didn't hesitate. She didn't think about the bullets ricocheting off the steel railcars or the deafening roars of automatic rifles. She ran straight toward Leo.
