Chapter 8 - The Siege of Villa Moretti
Gabriel’s hand flew to his sidearm instantly, pulling Emma behind his massive frame. "Falcone."
"Did you really think your little flight decoy in Chicago would fool me, Gabriel?" Don Falcone’s voice echoed through the intercom system. "I knew your dead wife’s sentimental heart would draw you back to Florence eventually. And look at what you brought me—the pretty little curvy nanny who replaced Isabella."
Emma’s blood ran cold, but she kept her grip tight on the leather journal she had snatched from the velvet cushion.
"You're outmatched, Falcone," Gabriel growled into the wall receiver, his voice dropping into a terrifying sub-zero tone. "My men have already surrounded the villa."
"Your men outside are currently dealing with thirty of my top mercenaries," Falcone sneered. "And as for you two... the vault you stand in is equipped with an automated fire-suppression system. In three minutes, the oxygen will be completely pumped out of that room. You will suffocate together in the dark."
The heavy hiss of gas pumps activating echoed through the ceiling vents.
Emma looked up in horror as the air pressure in the vault began to drop, making her ears pop. "Gabriel... the vents!"
Gabriel didn't panic. He looked at the steel vault door, then at Emma. "Emma, give me the silver key from the table!"
Emma grabbed the silver key and handed it to him. Gabriel sprinted to the back wall of the vault, where a massive, antique iron shield hung displayed on a stone plaque. He inserted the silver key into a tiny, hidden slot behind the shield and turned it with all his strength.
A hidden emergency escape hatch behind the plaque swung open, revealing a dark, narrow stone tunnel leading upward.
"Isabella knew Falcone might trap us here," Gabriel said, grabbing Emma’s hand. "This tunnel leads to the olive groves behind the villa! Go!"
They scrambled into the narrow tunnel just as the main vault room ran completely out of oxygen. They climbed frantically through the stone shaft, the sound of heavy gunfire and explosions echoing from the grounds above.
Moments later, they burst out of a hidden stone trapdoor hidden beneath a thick bed of ivy in the olive grove.
The night air was sweet and cool, but the Villa Moretti was in flames. Gunfire rattled across the courtyard as Matteo and the Moretti operatives traded heavy fire with Falcone’s mercenaries.
At the center of the courtyard, standing beside an armored SUV, was Don Falcone—a heavy-set, ruthless older man in a tailored suit, shouting orders to his men.
Gabriel’s eyes burned with pure, unadulterated fury.
"Stay in the grove, Emma," Gabriel commanded softly, pulling his assault rifle from a tactical sling on his back.
"Gabriel, wait!" Emma called out, pulling him back by his vest. She looked into his eyes with deep, fierce passion. "Bring justice for Isabella. Bring peace for our boys. And come back to me."
Gabriel looked at her, his dark eyes softening for a single second. He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers in a hard, promising kiss.
May you like
"Always," he growled.
Gabriel turned and stepped out of the shadows of the olive grove, moving into the battle like an unstoppable god of war.
