Chapter 5 - THE THREAT AT THE GATE
The peace inside the Moretti estate lasted exactly three days.
On Sunday night at ten-fifteen, the storm returned with unprecedented fury. High winds whipped through the trees, tearing down power lines along the North Shore highway.
The estate’s automated backup generators kicked on seamlessly with a low, heavy hum, keeping the interior lights dim but steady.
Alessandro was in his study, going over shipping manifests from the Newark docks, when the landline on his desk rang once.
He picked it up. "Speak."
"Boss, we have a problem at the main gate," Vane’s voice crackled through the speaker, tight with suppressed violence. "A vehicle just rammed the outer wooden barrier. Two guys got out. They threw a package over the iron wall."
Alessandro stood up instantly, his chair scraping back against the floorboards. "What package?"
"A cardboard box, boss," Vane said grimly. "Inside was a bloody shirt. A men’s shirt. With a note pinned to it."
"Read it," Alessandro ordered, his voice dropping into a register that was dead and flat.
"It says: 'For the baby. From Matteo. We’re coming inside soon.'"
Alessandro’s eyes turned into ice. "Where is the car?"
"They took off down the coastal highway toward the bridge. I sent two units after them."
"No," Alessandro commanded sharply. "Pull your units back. They want us scattered. They’re testing our response time."
He hung up the receiver, walked over to the locked walnut cabinet near the bookshelf, and unlocked it with a small brass key.
Inside hung two tactical shoulder holsters carrying custom nineteen-eleven semi-automatic handguns. He put on the leather harness, adjusting it smoothly over his dark vest, and racked the slides of both weapons with practiced, terrifying efficiency.
He walked out of the study and headed straight for the second floor.
In the master guest suite, Elena was sitting up in bed, a robe wrapped tightly around her shoulders, holding a sleeping Mia in her arms. She looked up in alarm as Alessandro stepped through the door, his dark posture transformed by the visible weapons beneath his arms.
"Alessandro," Elena gasped, her face draining of color. "What is happening?"
"Stay in this room," Alessandro commanded flatly. "Lock the heavy deadbolt behind me. Do not open the door for anyone except me or Vane."
Elena slid out of bed, laying Mia gently on the mattress, and rushed over to him, her hands catching his forearms.
"Alessandro, please," she whispered frantically, her eyes searching his dark, cold face. "What is going on outside?"
Alessandro looked down at her hands on his arms. The raw, desperate concern in her eyes made something stir deep within his frozen chest.
"The men who killed Isabella are trying to finish their work," Alessandro said quietly.
Elena’s eyes widened with terror. "Oh God..."
"They will not reach this floor, Elena," Alessandro swore, his voice laced with absolute, unyielding authority. "I promise you on my life. No one harms you or your daughter."
Elena looked at him, her lips trembling. Suddenly, she rose on her toes, reached her arms around his thick neck, and pulled his face down, pressing her lips firmly against his.
It was a fierce, desperate kiss, born of fear, gratitude, and a sudden, undeniable passion that had been building between them in the dark halls for weeks.
Alessandro froze for a fraction of a second, then his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her flush against his body, holding her as if she were the only real thing left in a world of gunfire and blood.
He pulled back slowly, his heavy breath warm against her cheek.
"Lock the door, Elena," he whispered softly.
May you like
She nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks. "Come back to us."
Alessandro stepped into the hall, heard the heavy iron deadbolt click into place behind him, and walked downstairs to meet the darkness coming up the driveway.
