Chapter 13 - The Gathering Storm
Explosions rocked the northern tree line of the estate, rattling the heavy glass fixtures in the manor. Flares ignited the sky, turning the dark night into an eerie, flickering crimson.
"Smoke bombs and flashbangs," Tommy analyzed, watching the thermal feeds. "They’re cutting our power grid!"
Backup generators kicked in immediately with a low hum, but the estate grounds were already crawling with armed men clad in dark tactical gear.
"Leo!" Celia cried, her maternal instincts surging.
"I’ve got Leo," Vincent said grimly, pulling a customized handgun from a concealed drawer under the desk. "Tommy, take Celia and Elena to the safe room below the library!"
"Not without you, Vincent!" Celia protested.
"I’ll meet you down there in three minutes," Vincent promised, kissing her deeply amidst the flashing warning lights. "Trust me."
Vincent sprinted up the marble staircase as gunfire erupted on the ground floor terrace. Romano Corporation guards engaged the invaders in a furious exchange of crossfire. Vincent moved with deadly, practiced precision—reemerging not as the cold mob boss of the past, but as a father protecting his blood.
He reached Leo’s bedroom just as two mercenary soldiers kicked through the balcony doors.
"Get away from my son," Vincent growled.
Before the soldiers could raise their weapons, Vincent ducked beneath the first man’s barrel, disarming him with a brutal wrist-lock, and fired two precise shots into the body armor of the second, neutralizing both instantly.
Leo crawled out from beneath his bed, eyes wide, holding a wooden baseball bat. "Dad!"
Vincent scooped the boy into his arms, holding him tight. "You're safe, son. I've got you."
"Are Mom and Elena okay?" Leo asked bravely, wiping a tear.
"They're waiting for us. Hold on tight."
Vincent carried Leo down the hidden service stairs leading straight into the library’s underground bunker. As the reinforced steel door sealed behind them, Tommy and Celia were already inside. Celia rushed forward, wrapping Leo in an intense embrace.
"Everyone is safe," Tommy panted, reloading his magazine. "For now. But they didn't come to take the house, Vincent. Look at the cameras."
On the bunker monitor, Luciana Moretti herself walked through the smoke of the estate’s foyer, flanked by Marco Vane and a dozen heavily armed men. She held a satellite phone to her ear, looking directly into one of the security cameras.
A second later, Celia’s burner phone chimed with an incoming video call.
May you like
Celia answered it, placing it on speaker.
"Hello, Mrs. Romano," Luciana’s voice echoed through the speaker, smooth and sharp as broken glass. "Or should I call you Counselor? You have three hours to hand over the key. If you refuse, my men will detonate the explosives planted around the city water filtration plant in Chicago and Hell's Kitchen. Thousands will suffer."
