Chapter 5 - The Safehouse
By three in the morning, the guests had been released under strict non-disclosure orders, escorted home by Alessio’s men. Villa Fontana was on absolute lockdown.
Alessio knew that as soon as news of the failed assassination reached Don Moretti, the rival syndicate would go into hiding or launch an immediate pre-emptive strike. He needed time to mobilize his forces, but first, he had a debt to settle.
He returned to his private quarters on the third floor. Greta was awake, sitting nervously by the window, while Nina lay on the bed, her thumb in her mouth, dreaming peacefully.
“Signor Fontana,” Greta stood up immediately. “What is going to happen now?”
“A war,” Alessio answered plainly. “Which means this villa is no longer safe for a child.”
Greta’s face went white. “Are you sending us away?”
“I am sending you to my secure compound in the mountains,” Alessio said. “It is a fortress built into the cliffside. Moretti doesn't know it exists. You will have private guards, fresh food, and every comfort. But you must leave tonight.”
Greta looked at her sleeping daughter, then back at the formidable man standing before her. “Why are you doing this for us? We are just staff.”
Alessio walked over to the bed and looked down at Nina. “Your daughter saved my life, Greta. In my world, a life debt is sacred. I do not forget those who protect me, nor do I forgive those who betray me.”
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, heavy gold pendant shaped like a crest—the ancient symbol of the Fontana family. He placed it gently on the nightstand next to Nina.
“If anything ever happens to me,” Alessio said softly, “show this crest to any of my men. They will protect her with their lives.”
Ten minutes later, an armored SUV pulled up to the rear service entrance. Marco personally loaded Greta and the still-half-asleep Nina into the back seat. Tinted bulletproof glass sealed them inside.
As the vehicle prepared to pull away, Nina pressed her small face against the window. She looked at Alessio, who stood under the courtyard light, his expression unreadable. She raised her small hand and waved.
Alessio raised two fingers to his brow in a subtle salutation—a gesture he reserved only for his highest generals.
“Take them away,” Alessio told the driver. “And do not stop for anything.”
As the SUV’s taillights vanished down the winding mountain road, Marco stepped up beside his boss. “The capos are assembling at the harbor house, Alessio. Everyone is waiting for your orders.”
May you like
Alessio pulled a cigar from his pocket, lit it, and inhaled deeply. The tip glowed orange in the darkness.
“Tell them to gear up,” Alessio said, his voice cold as iron. “We are going to hunt a Don.”
