Chapter 6 - BLOOD IN THE HALLWAYS
The grand hall of my mansion, once a pristine display of wealth and power, transformed into a war zone within minutes. Marble pillars shattered under the hail of automatic fire. My men, hardened veterans of the underworld, held the high ground on the mezzanine, raining bullets down on the intruders.
I moved through the shadows of the first floor with lethal precision. A mercenary rounded the corner near the library; I put two rounds into his chest before he could even raise his weapon. He dropped instantly.
"Move up! Flank them!" shouted a voice I recognized—Vittorio Falcone, the underboss and the son of the man who ordered my family's slaughter. He had come to finish the job personally.
I holstered my empty weapon and grabbed a loaded assault rifle from a fallen guard. The air was thick with the smell of cordite and copper. As I advanced toward the main atrium, a mercenary managed to slip past our defenses, sprinting down the hallway that led to the forbidden wing. To my safe room.
Panic, raw and unadulterated, spiked in my chest.
"Marco! Cover the atrium!" I yelled, breaking into a dead sprint.
I reached the corridor just as the mercenary attached a block of breaching explosives to the steel door. I raised my rifle, but my angle was blocked by a decorative statue. Before I could maneuver, a deafening explosion rocked the hallway. The shockwave threw me against the wall, my ears ringing violently.
The heavy steel doors blew inward with a horrific screech. Dust and smoke choked the corridor.
"Elena!" I roared, pushing myself up and charging through the smoke.
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The mercenary stepped into the ruined doorway, raising his gun. But before he could fire, a sharp crack echoed from inside the room. The mercenary's head snapped back, a single bullet hole appearing between his eyes, and he crumpled to the floor.
Through the clearing smoke, Elena stood over his body, her hands trembling violently around the silver pistol I had given her. Mia was hidden under the heavy mahogany desk. Elena had held her ground. She was a survivor, a queen in the making.
