Chapter 4 - THE BREACH IN THE COURTYARD~1,100 words
The crimson warning lights pulsed against the white marble walls of the Moretti mansion, casting an eerie, bleeding glow over the grand staircase.
Down in the entryway, the heavy double doors shuddered under a massive impact.
Bang! Bang!
“Vincent!” Luca shouted, his voice echoing over the screaming alarm. “Status report on the north gate!”
From the bottom of the stairs, Vincent Torino sprinted into view, his pistol already drawn and a dark headset clamped over his ear. He looked up at Luca and Luna with wide, panicked eyes that completely lacked his usual arrogant swagger.
“It’s not the Chicago families, Boss!” Vincent yelled over the noise of the alarm. “It’s a professional hit team! They bypassed the electronic locks using a military-grade relay box. They’re already in the sculpture garden!”
Luca’s jaw tightened into a rigid line of pure steel. He looked back at Luna, his green eyes burning with fierce intensity.
“Get down to the walk-in pantry in the basement kitchen,” Luca commanded, his hand gripping her shoulder. “There’s a reinforced steel panic room behind the dry goods shelves. Lock yourself inside and do not open it for anyone except me.”
“Luca, no—I’m staying with you!” Luna protested, her heart hammering against her ribs.
“Listen to me!” Luca shouted, his voice cracking with rare desperation. “They aren't here for the business tonight. Dmitri Kosoff left ten minutes ago muttering about unfinished bargains. This is a decapitation strike. They want to kill the bloodline before it starts. If I fall tonight, you need to survive.”
Before Luna could argue further, a deafening explosion rocked the western wing of the mansion.
The sound of shattering glass and splintering mahogany echoed through the corridors. Plaster dust drifted down from the high ceilings like gray snow.
“Move!” Luca pushed her gently toward the service stairs. “Go!”
Luna didn't hesitate anymore. She turned and sprinted down the narrow, winding staircase that led directly into the heart of the kitchen service corridor.
The kitchen was completely abandoned. Chef Roberto and the staff had already evacuated through the rear loading dock, leaving behind half-chopped vegetables and warm ovens.
Luna ducked behind the stainless-steel prep tables, her breathing coming in ragged gasps. The air smelled of cordite and burning drywall from the explosion upstairs.
She reached the back storage room, her hands trembling so badly she could barely grasp the handle of the dry goods pantry door.
She hauled the heavy metal shelfing aside, revealing the hidden keypad embedded in the brick wall behind it.
What was the code?
In her three years working in the house, she had occasionally overheard Maria talking about emergency protocols, but she had never seen anyone actually open the panic room.
Think, Luna, think!
Behind her, heavy boots slammed against the kitchen linoleum.
“Clear this sector!” a harsh, guttural voice shouted in Russian. “Find the girl! Kosoff wants her alive to draw the boy out!”
Luna’s breath hitched. They were looking for her.
Her fingers flew across the keypad. She punched in Don Salvatore’s birth year—nothing. She tried Luca’s birthday—access denied. A sharp red light blinked angrily on the small screen, accompanied by a low, warning beep.
One more incorrect attempt and the system locks down permanently.
Footsteps were approaching the pantry door now, fast and heavy. The barrel of a suppressed submachine gun slid around the corner of the stainless-steel refrigerator.
Luna closed her eyes, whispered a quick prayer to her grandmother’s rosary tucked inside her apron pocket, and pressed the only combination she knew by heart—the date three years ago when she had first scrubbed the floors of Luca’s private study, the day he had looked down at her and smiled.
Green light.
Click.
The heavy steel door of the panic room swung outward smoothly on oiled hinges.
Without thinking, Luna dove inside into the cool, dark interior, grabbing the heavy door and slamming it shut just as a burst of automatic gunfire chewed through the wooden drywall outside.
Thud-thud-thud.
Bullets sparked against the exterior of the steel door.
Luna locked the deadbolts from the inside, collapsing against the cold concrete floor as darkness wrapped around her like a shroud.
Inside the small, windowless sanctuary, illuminated only by the faint green glow of an emergency battery pack, she curled her knees to her chest.
May you like
She was safe for the moment.
But out there in the burning mansion, Luca was fighting for his life.
