Chapter 4 - The Midnight Siege
At 2:00 AM, the lights inside the estate were cut.
The entire house went pitch black, save for the faint green glow of the emergency exit signs in the service hallways.
I was in the master security panic room on the second floor—a concrete-reinforced bunker hidden behind a heavy bookshelf in Vincent’s study. Isabella and Ellie were asleep on a plush velvet sofa in the corner, wrapped in heavy fleece blankets.
I sat near the heavy steel door, holding a tablet monitor that showed live feeds from sixteen security cameras positioned around the estate.
Vincent had left two hours ago with eight armed men in three black armored SUVs, headed toward a warehouse in Cicero where the Commission’s leadership was meeting.
Only four bodyguards remained at the estate: Marco, Luca, and two younger tactical guards stationed at the perimeter gates.
Suddenly, the camera monitor on my lap flickered with static.
Camera 1—The Front Gate: OFFLINE. Camera 2—The Driveway: OFFLINE. Camera 4—The West Lawn: OFFLINE.
My heart plummeted into my throat.
“Marco,” I whispered into the encrypted walkie-talkie Vincent had given me before he left. “Marco, do you copy? The security cameras are going down.”
Only harsh static answered.
“Maya...” Marco’s voice cut through the radio, broken and laced with heavy gunfire echoing in the background. “Breach on the south side! Cut power to the estate! They used a signal jammer... there are at least twelve of them! Stay in the panic room! Do not open that door for anyone except Vincent!”
The sound of shattering glass echoed from the ground floor below, followed immediately by the sharp, deafening pop-pop-pop of automatic weapons fire.
Ellie woke up with a sharp gasp, clutching her stuffed rabbit. “Mommy? Is that thunder?”
“Shh, baby,” I whispered, rushing over to the sofa and pulling both little girls into my arms, pressing them against my chest in the dark. “It’s just heavy rain. Stay down.”
Isabella didn't cry. She didn't scream. She simply clutched my shirt, her small body trembling, her eyes fixed on the heavy steel door of the panic room.
Footsteps heavy combat boots echoed down the second-floor hallway outside.
“Clear the master bedroom!” a rough, unfamiliar voice barked in Italian. “Find the kid! Don't shoot the girl—Sal wants her alive for leverage against Moretti! Kill anyone else in the room!”
They were right outside the study door.
I held my breath, squeezing both little girls so tightly I was afraid I might hurt them. My mind raced wildly. The panic room door was six inches of solid reinforced steel, locked from the inside with an electronic keypad. But if they brought heavy explosive charges...
Suddenly, a loud groan echoed through the hallway outside, followed by the heavy thud of a body hitting the floor.
A single, muffled gunshot echoed—then absolute silence.
A hand rattled the brass doorknob of the study outside.
Then, three distinct, rhythmic knocks sounded against the heavy steel panic room door.
Knock. Knock-knock.
It was the signal Vincent had given me.
My hands shook violently as I stepped up to the wall keypad, punching in the six-digit security pin.
The heavy hydraulic lock hissed as the steel door swung open.
Standing in the hallway was not Vincent.
May you like
It was Luca—his white shirt soaked in blood, a heavy shotgun held in his hand, his face pale and breathing heavily.
“Get your coats,” Luca wheezed, stumbling into the doorway. “Vincent’s trap in Cicero failed. The Commission knew he was coming... they’ve taken the city. We have to move now.”
