Chapter 6 - The Cellar Protocols
The service lift came to a sudden, mechanical stop with a heavy CLANG.
Corrie pushed the brass door open and tumbled out onto the damp stone floor of the lower wine cellar.
The room was cool and dark, lit only by a few low-wattage orange bulbs suspended from the arched brick ceiling. Rows of dusty wine barrels stretched into the shadows.
“Corrie!” a sharp whisper called out.
Rosa Delgado stepped out from behind a massive oak cask, holding a double-barreled shotgun across her chest. She grabbed Corrie by the arm, dragging her into the shadows behind the wine racks.
“Are you hurt?” Rosa demanded, her eyes scanning Corrie’s blood-stained cardigan.
“It’s not my blood,” Corrie sobbed, gasping for air, hugging the steel box. “Matteo is upstairs! He brought men! Domenico is fighting them off in the library!”
Rosa didn't panic. She reached into her apron pocket, pulled out a heavy handheld radio, and keyed the mic.
“Alpha unit, this is Delgado,” Rosa said, her voice dropping into a cold, military tone that shocked Corrie. “Code Red in the library. Breach at the east windows. Execute containment protocol Bravo.”
A static voice crackled back instantly: “Understood, Delgado. Snipers in position on the perimeter.”
Corrie stared at the elderly cook in utter disbelief. “Rosa... who are you?”
Rosa smiled faintly, her dark eyes flashing with sharp intelligence. “I was your mother’s personal bodyguard thirty years ago, child. Do you really think I came to work as a cook for Domenico by accident?”
Before Corrie could absorb this new shock, heavy footsteps rattled the metal staircase leading down from the kitchen.
Rosa immediately pushed Corrie behind her, raising the shotgun, her thumb flicking both safety levers off.
The heavy steel door at the top of the stairs blew off its hinges with a deafening BANG.
A man stumbled down the stone steps, coughing through thick black smoke.
He collapsed at the bottom of the stairs, clutching a bleeding wound in his side.
Corrie gasped.
It was Domenico.
His suit jacket was torn, his white shirt soaked in blood at the shoulder, but his pistol was still held firmly in his right hand.
“Domenico!” Corrie cried, running past Rosa, dropping to her knees beside him.
Domenico looked up, his dark eyes hazy with pain, but as soon as he saw her face, a look of profound relief washed over his features.
“You’re safe,” he choked out, his fingers reaching out to touch her cheek, leaving a smear of red against her pale skin. “Thank God...”
“You’re bleeding,” Corrie wept, pressing her hand firmly against his shoulder wound.
“Matteo’s dead,” Domenico whispered, a weak, victorious smile touching his lips. “He... he thought he could take the library. He didn't know about the perimeter snipers.”
Rosa stepped up beside them, lowered her shotgun, and checked Domenico’s pulse.
“The bullet went clean through the shoulder, child,” Rosa diagnosed calmly. “He won't die today. But we need to move. The state police will be here in ten minutes.”
Domenico reached up, grabbing Corrie by the front of her cardigan, pulling her down until her lips were inches from his.
“The ledger is yours now, Corrie,” Domenico murmured, his breath ragged. “The family... the estate... the trust... it’s all yours.”
Corrie shook her head fiercely, tears falling onto his chest.
May you like
“I don't want the estate, Domenico!” she cried. “I don't want the family business! I just want you!”
Domenico stared up at her, his dark eyes filled with a deep, consuming devotion that answered every question she had ever held in her heart.
