Chapter 4 - The Sniper in the Rose Garden
The estate erupted into automated alarms. High-pitched sirens wailed across the hundreds of acres, and steel security shutters began to roll down over every window in the mansion with a deafening mechanical grind.
Caleb burst into the sunroom with three heavily armed tactical guards, their weapons raised. "Sniper from the eastern ridge! We have an infrared signature moving through the old rose garden!"
Alessandro stood up from the floor, checking Sophia and Emma for injuries. Aside from a few minor scratches from the flying glass, they were unharmed, though Emma was crying in terror, clutching her mother’s neck.
"Take them to the underground bunker," Alessandro ordered Caleb, his face pale with an absolute, deadly fury. "Give me your sidearm."
"Sir, you shouldn't go out there—"
"Give me the gun, Caleb," Alessandro repeated, his voice clipping every syllable.
Caleb didn't argue further. He handed Alessandro a customized Sig Sauer 9mm pistol. Alessandro checked the chamber, his eyes dark with the ancient, lethal bloodline of the Duca family. For years, he had played the role of the civilized billionaire, the modern businessman in a tailored suit. But before he was a CEO, he was a Duca—a family that had survived centuries of Italian political betrayal by being more ruthless than their enemies.
Alessandro slipped out through the kitchen’s reinforced basement exit, stepping into the damp, cool afternoon air. The eastern ridge was thick with ancient oak trees and overgrown stone walls from the original 19th-century estate.
He moved with an unnatural stillness, utilizing the shadows of the hedges. Ahead, he caught the flash of a dark tactical jacket. The assassin was retreating toward the perimeter wall, realizing the target had survived and the estate defenses were too heavy.
"You chose the wrong house," Alessandro muttered to himself.
He ran parallel to the assassin's path, cutting through the old vineyard. As the shooter reached the iron perimeter fence, preparing to scale it, Alessandro stepped out from behind a stone pillar, his weapon raised and perfectly steady.
"Drop it," Alessandro commanded.
The assassin froze, then attempted to spin around with his rifle raised. Alessandro fired twice. The first bullet took the shooter in the right shoulder, shattering the bone and dropping the rifle into the mud. The second bullet tore through his thigh, pinning him to the ground.
Alessandro walked up to the groaning man, kicking the rifle away. He pressed the hot barrel of his pistol directly against the man's forehead. "Who paid you?"
The assassin grinned through a mouth full of blood. "A dead man doesn't need to know names, Duca."
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"You aren't dealing with a businessman right now," Alessandro whispered, his eyes void of mercy. "You are dealing with the man who owns the police, the courts, and the graves in this city. Talk, or I will let you bleed out in these roses."
The assassin's grin vanished as he looked into Alessandro’s eyes and realized the billionaire wasn't bluffing. "It... it was Valerio. He said the poison failed, so I had to finish it today before the board vote."
